By Nasiru Wonder, Accra, Ghana

Mornings in Jenin, Susan’s debut novel was a bestseller, followed by six more and this recent work: Against the Loveless World. I’m not sure if this is a review of the book but a blend of historical happenings showing why to the hopeless in This World, need hope more than air to breathe. In Edward Said’s book title, Out of Place depicts Palestinians poetically outta place helping the displaced Israelis and left wandering with an indefinite place to call home!

If it is the duty of the writer to change the status quo, the unseemly right then we all can agree for ”the unanswered lies resembles the truth.” Until wrongs are righted we are not free. Susan challenges storytellers and readers and no matter where you are, so long as you want truth and justice this story is yours.

A story of redemption, hope and transformation in a defunct space. Palestine of rich ancient culture, art, good music, hospitality, intelligence and to the best as everybody has, are exploited, demurred by the Western Media as Oppressors. Why is only the quarreling been projected and not otherwise? Is Palestine just a war zone? As we merry Israel: Yeah! They are God’s favorite, Children of God (Judeo-Christian myth) reflect in those words. We are not into that today.

Speaking of Palestine the first thing that strucks my mind as a Muslim is the Masjid al-Aqsa or the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem in Prophetic Ascension. The tomb of the Female saint, Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya or the historic Bab al-Rahma cemetery. A monumental holy site for Muslims, frequented by pilgrims oftentimes and globally. A blessed space seems threatened by Khazars or modern Jews Ashkenazi Zionist Activism.


From the 12 page glossaries, one is akin to say, we cannot judge the book by just the cover. A tougher read requiring our heart not just the mind but bold presence of our humanity through texts. The chief glory of every people, Samuel Jackson iterates, arises from its authors.

Susan wrote this masterpiece within her soul, what lied beneath over a twenty years of disposition. The story reads like a Memoir. She did not disappoint like other Arabs who saw it a threat when Mu’ammar Al-Qadhdhāfī apologized to Africans in the name of Arabs in slavery then and then hell broke loose. Palestinian Arabs and the Africans share same veins with a common enemy: Capitalism, Militarism, and Anarchy.

Her birth name, Nahr but registered on file as Yakoot which pained her Mother. The pregnant Mother vowed to name the child after the River, when they crossed safely from drowning in exhausting exile, fleeing Israel’s invasion of their homeland.

Fate has it that, she will be born and raised in Kuwait whiles wandering of her ancient root. So when Mhammed popped out from Palestine she knew this was the man of her life, filled with joy and passion for the activist-come-lately heads up they married, a union that lasted for a short while yet only disrupted her life. The Gulf War left them wandering to Iraq, Jordan, Palestine Amman, and the Homeland again.

Through sojourns her heart seated tranquility in the ancient ruins, after her runaway husband Mhammed, officially divorced and married his blood brother, Bilal, a request she adhered to by Hajjeh Um Mhammed (her Mother in-law) on her deathbed.

During her shenanigans days under tutelage of the God-mother, Um Buraq, she was knows as Almas in fact, Nahr was one personality in different attributes, spaces, names devoid of place. She learnt fighting for her Mama, grandmother and only brother, Jehad who graduated in 1990 and lack academic support to Moscow, ever since the collapse of Soviet Union. Like many Palestinians, who can only point far a place without surety if there remain safe to return back to a town they once referred home.

Circle of independent Women has always been a threat to Men who prey and break them apiece. Why would her God-Mother say, ”Every man is shit?” The sooner you accept this truth, the easier your life will be.” Um Buraq lecturing. Men got all the powers and we, got the underground road to upturn them to our use lest they abuse and refuse us. Abu Moathe, the scared away of bastard (harami) leaked her belly dancing photo with cash flows leading to her arrest for some painful lessons. He took that transferred dossier of Almas, against her. Almas, then, affirmed the gospels in her God-Mother’s brothel preachings: men ain’t trustworthy.

In Bilal, a tour guide and former husband’s brother she found Peace: taking her through the Motherland, showing care and affection, and love. After showering Nahr blessing upon blessings. She yearned for more, to be his bedmate, one in mind and soulmates what a better luck than seeing this materialize. As a biologist, Bilal knew concoctions and the power of chemicals. Jehad, her disabled brother graduated University now the Internet wizard to network their struggle with sons and daughters of Palestine home/abroad. How magical that was. She would learn and read together, listen, dance and sing harmoniously in Bilal as their new love blossoms!

During Her visit in homeland they walked hand in hand and quiet along, where the Shepherd does his work, as the flocks graze they are caught sitting in line grasses, under orchard tree talking about life and whatever awestruck their mind. At the first glance and introduction, Jandal, the Shepherd praised her: “Your name, Yakoot, is a testament to your precious rarity.” How sweet to know one is ruby amongst stones.

Bilal and the team formulate the chaos theory, with Nahr the two devised and chemicalized the Enemies’ pipeline popularizing infertility and series of health issue of wheezing, asthmatics having frequent flare ups, make them flee without wanting. Some Rabbis say, the land is cursed.

Later, Bilal broke the egg, Tamar, a name she first heard during the honeymoon night, unbeknownst was a Man. Itamar was the rightful name he disgust but again, she wonders How could he, Mhammed betray her?. How could he siphone with the enemy and fuck, his fucking asshole.

She joins activists in her homeland to fight bring orders. During an underground meeting She refuted a scion wannabe, Madam Honor, saying: “Some of us end up with little choice but to Fuck. For. Money.” And for her street and strict credibility, and whore-abled background much was achieved.

God been so good, her grandmother, Sitti Wasfiyeh had a share lot, The World Heritage Site considered the oldest town with Archaeologists going here and there to made a fortune in Ein el-Sultan. Then, her family’s heart softened, money is in. Money soften heart Now they take care of her, hypocritical and acting as if they love her, GrandMa is old and wise to discover your tricks.

On page 302, she “told him everything”: of who she was, the names she had, the things she did, the names and times she fucked, sucked, the many men she encountered, who impregnated (later lure her into abort), who enjoyed fucking and acting rapist, the bloody pant sniffer who times diligently on her red month periods. How she enjoyed been able to express her self through belly dancing charming men into her bosom. Matter fact, it took trust for such powerful revelation.

Then she knew how to fight, steal ATM pins, connive, lure and maneuver men into meeting her needs. At the expense of catering for her brother, her widowed mother, Sitti Wasfiyeh paying the rents, and setting their homes in order. Y’all know how damn difficult it is living without cash.

A work of thoughtful excursions into another land of destitute and undying generation, culture, traditions as they rebel and endured living to be. I recommend reading this book. My pragmatic review ain’t no good. Pardon me.

Flashback in 2015, during Farrakhan’s 20th Anniversary of the Million-man March at Washington State Capitol, Linda Sarsour A National Arab American Racial Justice & Civil Right Activists spoke truth to power resiliently and unapologetically. I admire the fearlessness and courage of this lady but then, I ask when will this illegal occupation come to an end?

If you want to know who rules over you, Voltaire said, “look at who you are not allowed to criticize.” Folks condemn faiths, people from all walks of life and God the Most High to the utmost profanity in peace but to hell with you who dares criticize Jews. By the power of Jews in their side, you have to suffer labeled an anti-semitic or modern day hitler putting your life on the death-row.

But then again, how does it feel to journey back home, as if you were never there? Bereft of a home after owning a property!

Palestine Liberation Organization strategies abruptly failed but this one by the youths was a success. They poisoned the waters and threatened their living in the stolen land we learn in this novel how and what is needed for a liberated state. Goliath was more powerful but David used stones and faithful fought the giant, slaughtering him with his own sword.


South Africa, during Apartheid were deprived of land, their homes, and the freedom of going-abouts. And many unwonted crimes against the natives. This system of apartheid is no different in Palestinian’s scope. Imagine been a foreigner in your own land? Your property been confiscated for another? Just Imagine where to hang your certificate after many years studying abroad and no wall to sellotape graduation certificates or that important image? Imagine when a mind is just wailing wailing and no spaces to depend or the offspring to inherit. How expensive a living brotherhood to others is a threat.

Oppression is a psychological problem, a problem we are yet to solve together once and for all. Martin Luther King Jr, said: “Injustice everywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” And went on to reveal how people are trampled upon through Racism, militarism and capitalism.

The whole world watched South Africa suffer apartheid’s ingenuity now stifled on Palestine. And I got the balls to speak on this? Yesssssss, I’m a son of my time.

Reproduced from with the kind permission of the author


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