Substack Exile Archive Presents Fragments of Resistance!
Substack Exile Archive Presents Fragments of Resistance is not a blog. It is a living archive of exile, defiance, and poetic testimony. Each post is a fragment of resistance, drawn from public encounters, courtroom farce, and bureaucratic rituals. Here, memory refuses erasure. Here, the margins speak. Welcome to the bridge between silence and witness. If you carry a wound, a silence, a story that has no place... write it. I will read it. I will carry it. Together, we may find a shape, a word, a way forward.
Substack Exile Archive Presents Fragments of Resistance: A solitary figure standing at the edge of Geneva lake at dusk. Their back is turned, but their posture is alert... half-defiant, half-reflective. The water is still, the sky bruised with violet and grey. A dog sits beside them, looking directly at the viewer. The scene is quiet, but charged. It evokes exile, presence, and the act of witnessing.Every thread in the clusters below is not a technical link, but a threshold of recurrence... a passage between fragments and formal testimony. It is raised of lifetime experiences, fed from my blood, thought out of a 60-year mentality rich of instinct and intuition to explore real lifetime occurrences that hurt... and from the pain the pen draws not by ink, but by blood.
These clusters do not seek followers. They seek witnesses. Not to scroll, but to stay. Not to consume, but to carry.
Each fragment below is a wound that speaks. A door that once refused to open. A corridor where memory still walks.
If you arrived here by accident, know that testimony does not wait for permission. It arrives uninvited, and stays until it is heard.
When the Archive Walks Uninvited: Testimony at the Gates of the Unexpected!
In September, the archive walked. It entered classrooms, corporate corridors, and coffee chains. It whispered through code and curriculum and still, it was heard. Which fragment did they find? Perhaps the one that opened the wrong door and told the right story.
26929 steps. Each one a witness. Each referrer a door... Udemy, Yahoo, Bioware, USC, Coca-Cola, ResearchGate, The Times, NY Time, Medium, Glassdoor, Apache, Utexas, CBS News, Forbes and many other brands. Not endorsements, maybe. Not algorithms. Just echoes. Just presence.
To those who arrived without knowing why: You are welcome. This is not a site. It is a heartbeat.
Sidewalks of Power: Where Testimony Sleeps!
This cluster gathers fragments where global institutions and personal exile collide. From Geneva's polished façades to its forgotten sidewalks, these posts trace the contradictions between human rights declarations and lived neglect. They document the quiet orchestration of disappearance from Sudan to Denmark and the refusal to let silence win.
From Geneva Lake-side walks, inspirational thoughts spring like Geneva Fountain... from the pain of years in a silencing systems, that forge even testimonies to protect representatives of authorities, claiming they cannot do wrong things. While in the TV news we heard even ministers can do bad things, like those who have resigned from their posts when sincere pens in the press exposed them. This is the time for the public to wakeup everywhere.
Geneva Beneath the Flags: Where the Forgotten Sleep!
Soft Laughters of Ms. Swiss!
Here, even the city becomes a witness. Ms. Swiss smiles in neutrality while families sleep on sidewalks. Her elegance masks indifference. Her silence is the architecture of power. She smiles always in allegiance, but never blinks. Her lips are moistened, but never kiss. Her eyes are inviting, but never look toward the scattered people. She attracted me and I waited to hug her for so long. I am almost there, reaching many human rights organizations
I started connecting with them while I worked journalist in the gulf area years ago... about half a century and got an invitation with travel tickets booking and a hotel in Paris to attend a conference on human rights in Sudan. Now, the same organization offers a meeting to debate and I suggested lectures to the staffs and the public.
Miss Swiss: I'll beat your heart and you'll love me for that:-)
Soft Laughters of Ms. Swiss! Oh, Man!
Echoes of Intention: Where Misreading Becomes Vision!
I walked Geneva again not to arrive, but to listen. The streets whispered solidarity, or so I thought. Second-hand items laid out like offerings. I filmed. I praised. I believed. But belief, too, must be corrected.
"Is this a humanitarian activity? Which organization runs it?", I asked in hope. She said, "No, it's just a local sale, we organised to help the residents of this quarter." And I smiled, not in defeat, but in recognition: Even mistaken hope is a kind of resistance. I added to the video:
"I misread the moment, because I'm wired to see human rights where they should be." And maybe that's the point. To wire the city with longing. To see justice in every sidewalk crack. So, my mind didn't stop. It continued to build a hope in a street project I created and called "Streets for Justice". So, the missed hope becomes a project. Keep reading to see how it's structured.
Echoes of Intention: Where Misreading Becomes Vision!
Streets for Justice: A Project Born from Misreading!
Origin It began with a question: "Which organization runs this?" The answer corrected me. But my mind refused to stop. I saw justice in the folds of second-hand clothes, in the quiet dignity of a local sale. So I built a project, not to document what is, but to insist on what should be. It is linked to the cluster above and it will enrich your creativity to replicate it.
The project is simple to implement using 5 structured activities. If well-done this project can be replicated in any other city in the world, using the same 5 steps and encouraging creators like musicians, painters, poets, short story writer, novelists and even film producers and stars to participate as explained in one of the steps to fundraise human rights and justice. Walk the project now. Thank me later.
Streets for Justice: A Project Born from Misreading!
Substack Exile Archive Presents Fragments of Resistance - A dim corner where two truths meet: RUE DE L’ÉQUITÉ and JUSTICE. Their names are etched into metal street signs, mounted high yet weathered... symbols of ideals often deferred. The sidewalk below is uneven, its cracks filled with silence and sediment. A money case lies open on the ground, half in shadow, half in light. Its presence is ambiguous: a trace of corruption, a relic of struggle, or a metaphor for what’s been traded away. The scene is quiet, but not still. The absence of people feels deliberate, as if the streets themselves are waiting for testimony, for reckoning, for footsteps that refuse to walk past. The lamplight flickers, casting long shadows that stretch across the pavement like unresolved histories. This is not just a corner... it's a threshold. A place where justice must be reclaimed, not inherited.Coordinates of Memory: Where Encounters Redirect Testimony!
I was searching for number 51 on a quiet Geneva street, hoping to find the office of Human Rights Watch. Instead, I found number 50 and number 52... two buildings that seemed to flank an absence.
Number 52 bore the name of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, but it wasn't my destination, as I have already submitted a human rights report there. Outside number 50, a Swiss girl stepped out to smoke with her friend. She smiled, looking at me before passing by. I felt her eyes on my back. I felt electrified. I returned to her, as if magnetized, or walking in sleep. I asked where I might find number 51. She stayed with me for almost 5 minutes to find it on her iPhone and gave it to me see and search further.
She stayed with me for nearly five minutes, searching on her iPhone, then handed it to me so I could look further. She told me her name when I couldn’t read it on her office badge. She even let me take a photo and a short video of her. And suddenly, the search became something else: Thresholds of Recognition: When the Wrong Door Opens the Right Story.
I filmed the street. Not for evidence, but for memory. The missing number became a metaphor. The girl's gaze, a quiet resistance. Quiet Resistance: Where Memory Refuses to Forget. I didn't find Human Rights Watch, but I found a moment worth archiving. A fragment of testimony that refused to be transactional. The sidewalk held no answers, but it offered a question: What do we miss when we search too precisely?
Coordinates of Memory: Where Encounters Redirect Testimony!
Systemic Silence: Where Bureaucracy Becomes Violence!
In Sindal, Denmark, Deng Akok died not from war, but from welfare denial. A refugee accepted into resettlement, he was left unsupported when the Kommune stopped his payments. The student grant never arrived. For three months, he lived in bureaucratic limbo until he couldn't anymore.
His death wasn't accidental. It was engineered by silence, by systems that refuse to speak to each other. And that silence continues. Denmark still weaponizes integration, still withholds welfare, still violates the Geneva Convention in slow, quiet ways.
This post is not just remembrance... it's resistance. It documents not only Deng's story, but the echo of cruelty that reverberates through other lives, including mine, yours if you are living there. The retaliatory measures, the low-frequency harassment, the psychological pressure... they are instruments of the same systemic violence.
And when search engines suppress the story, it becomes clear: even digital space conspires to erase testimony. But I refuse it and I stand strong against it bye the rights of my journalistic authority and refuse erasure. I archive. I amplify. I turn silence into sound. You must do too.
Systemic Silence: Where Bureaucracy Becomes Violence!
Subterranean Testimony: Where the City Speaks Back!
Subterranean Testimony: Where the City Speaks Back - for moments when Geneva's infrastructure becomes a canvas of resistance: "Eyes Beneath the Protocol"? sketch how this fragment links to my broader archive of poetic resistance.
Beneath the polished offices of the UNHCR, where protocols are drafted and silence is institutionalized, a face stares out from the underpass. It's not a mural. It's not even protest. It's sarcasm etched in concrete... a quiet scream from the margins. The graffiti doesn't ask for attention; it demands recognition. Its eyes, half-shadowed and defiant, speak louder than any press release. This is Geneva's underside, where testimony leaks through tram rails and the city's infrastructure becomes a canvas of resistance.
The irony is brutal. Above, humanitarian language flows in fluent bureaucracy. Below, a face reminds us what gets buried. This isn't just street art... it's subterranean testimony. A counter-monument to the erased, the waiting, the disappeared. And in that moment, standing beneath the rails, I didn't just witness a drawing. I felt the city speak back. I archived it. Because even sarcasm, when carved into stone, becomes a fragment of resistance.
Subterranean Testimony: Where the City Speaks Back!
Archive of Care: Where Empathy Becomes Testimony!
Outside the gates of the UNHCR, a man stood guard... but it was his knees that spoke first. I asked gently, and he answered with silence, then pain. In that moment, roles dissolved. I, the refugee, became the healer. He, the gatekeeper, became the witness.
There was no protocol, no appointment... just two persons exchanging something deeper than documents. I offered herbs, a search term, a gesture. And he listened, not as a functionary, but as a man in need.
Later, I returned, not to seek, but to give. A pharmacy card, a list of remedies containing herbs, a memory of empathy. This is what the Archive of Care holds: moments where resistance becomes tenderness, where testimony is carried not in files, but in acts of healing. I didn't just document injustice... I responded to it. And in doing so, I expanded the definition of advocacy. Sometimes, the most radical act is to return with a cure.
Archive of Care: Where Empathy Becomes Testimony!
Gestures of Grace: Where Small Acts Carry Testimony!
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When I get a new information, or a good read, my conscience tells me to be obliged to whom has added a drop of knowledge with some values in my life by doing some good deeds to him. Some links here get me a little power to support some people in need, indeed, by paying my subscription to international human organizations I am part of their generous good deeds. Like this at Awassa.
A Friend in Need is A Friend Indeed!
How many times have you fallen like a mountain, because you were great with your inspirations, guidance and professional teaching and later on found some people you made professional drawn in luxuries and never cared about you?
A hand up is better than a hand down. Share a link of a page you liked in great sites, but please not FACEBOOK. I am a man of principles.
A Man is Known by the Company he Keeps!
True, don't you think so? I can tell you stories and stories about that. Can you tell me one in details with the original cultures of the world it refers to? Take the cultural section by a huge and write that in the comments form.
Healthy Citizens are the Greatest Asset any Country can have!
It's true. But, he didn't know what ill governance can do for healthy citizens, or how ill monarchies can bring healthy citizens into miseries, or why great powers play by the fates of so many healthy citizens in the world.
Know any similar situations where healthy citizens are broken by the ruling elites in any country? Bring that into readers' attention through the comments form at Are You Intellectual?
Global Dynamics to Make Everyone Intellectual
Look for the top 100 Google most searched terms globally in 2021. You will not find any single thing that any person looks for and wants to know about, or use in daily life, such as food, health, education, cinema, tv, news, developing qualities and qualifications, playing, traveling, and even what causes Coronavirus and other pandemics, which are real threats to all people lives etc... You will find only search terms used for top social media, Youtube, search engines and Amazon. Political illiteracy is what matters to me to educate. See Global Dynamics & signup for the newsletter.
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