Speaking at an Intersection

Eric Abalajon

At first, we gathered 
in an obscure corner 
of Nathan Phillips Square, 
a bit after 
one in the afternoon. 

The police easily found us 
because of the red flags, 
unfurled even 
before the program. 
Let us know 
if you need help, 
and they went on their way.
It was cold but bright 
by December standards. 

While waiting for others 
it is apparent that strolling season 
is done for the year.
Those catching up 
are instructed to go 
to the Cenotaph 
in front of the Old City Hall. 

Let’s use the street lights 
in our favor. 
People waiting 
to cross Queen Street West 
and Bay Street are 
bound to hear
a few sentences at least.

Printed out faces 
are passed around,
the word justice
larger than 
their names. 
We need to start 
before it gets dark
or the flurries too thick.

Gripping a small megaphone, 
I talked about cultural workers 
abducted while preparing their 
own human rights day mob, 

not too far Marawi City is in ruins. 
I even have the figures in my 
print-out, getting moist in 
my shaking fingers, 
but they took too long to read.

I haven’t been introduced 
to any of our guests, 
but other speakers didn’t need
to elaborate much 

on mining aggression to First Nations, 
peace aborted to the Kurds, 

drug war deaths to Latin Americans, 
public housing occupation to Tenant Organizers.

Alarmed faces jump out in the crowd 
when university students in black 
with faces covered start 
denouncing Duterte
in a distinct Canadian accent. 
Most of the onlookers are 
coming out of Eaton Centre. 

You did great, said the one 
who made me speak, I replied, 

I can’t feel my toes. Solidarity 
demands we numb our discomforts.   

His face is also red, that’s okay, 
he added, they are being killed out there. 

---

On ‘Speaking at an intersection’

December 10, International Human Rights Day, looks very different in an affluent country like Canada. Organising a protest with migrant organisations and allies is an experience filled with anxiety. There is also a large risk that the immediate public will not understand our objectives. But these small discomforts should be overcome, as problems from developing countries are not as distant as we may think and have parallels in cities such as Toronto as well. This is the essence of solidarity.

The art in the poem’s thumbnail, ‘Better Together’ by Ana Filipa dos Santos Lopes (@analogictinker), is licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA.