Do you remember the ocean, abaayo?

In the hopes of giving my sisters a memorable summer on a scarce budget and in the midst of a pandemic I brought them with me on trips around the beaches of Skåne, hoping that the ocean would mean as much to them as it did to me and that they’d always remember those days. The ocean means more to me than I can put into words. No feeling measures to the calm that I experience standing before it. How small and humble I feel gazing over it. Humble before the waves that hit the shore. I think of my fathers stories about his childhood, of his friend who was pulled away by the currents whom they never saw again. I think of the men and boys in Kismaayo pushing their fishing boats in to the ocean every dawn. The same water where we played and bathed in the sun is a graveyard for so many. I think of of my cousins journey across the Mediterranean and the excruciating wait for her call to let us know that she survived. I think of the female Somali poet, Asha Luul Farah, who wrote in her poem ”Tahriib”:

”Look at the hordes of women, all the young who drown, disappearing onto ships, dissolving on the crossing,
all those deprived of life’s basics, adrift outside their country: our future floats bloated in sea, is a corpse dragged on sand”

I ask my sisters if they remember the ocean knowing that the ocean they remember isn’t the same as mine.

With love, Ikram

SWEDISH VERSION

The exhibition took place at OBRA Malmö

Stora Varvsgatan 12

OPENING the 26th of May from 3 - 7 pm

Due to the covid situation a limited number of people at a time will be able to visit the gallery space. We will use the outdoors not to get to crowded.

OPENING HOURS Wednesday to Saturday 12 - 16 [changes will be announced here]

We are aslo open by appointment +46 708 83 26 90