The point of protest

I was involved in two protests over the last two weeks, one out of pure volition, the other out of pure necessity. The protests had similar themes: the victims were oppressed and being imprisoned by authorative States. The European Union and the international community were turning a blind eye to the indignity and lack of humanity. The protesters chanted, “Freedom! Dignity! Equality!” and “Wake up Europe!”

I was particularly committed to one of the protests, on slavery in Libya. We, the world, had known about the thriving slave trade in Libya since April when the International Organisation for Migration published accounts of migrants being bought and sold, for menial work, hard labour and for sex. Sub-saharan Africans were imprisoned in private and government-run detention facilities, and as well as being auctioned, many were tortured by smugglers, militia, or whoever was in authority if they failed to pay up extra money for their journey to Europe.

It had to take another seven months, this time thanks to a CNN documentary for we, the world, to react. This time, thankfully, we woke up. We took it seriously and we say that we are doing something about it.

I had never protested in my life. Yet, I had never felt so appalled and disgusted over something as much as I did over this issue. Not even Brexit, as gut-wrenchingly revolting as it is, did not stir up as much frustration, anger and passion as watching people being sold off did. On Saturday, 25 November, I joined 2 500 people in Brussels to protest against slavery in Libya.  That’s me in the picture saying no to slavery (courtesy of Camille Van Durme).

The second protest I was involved in concerned 45 000 Catalan nationalists protesting against the forced exile of the President of the Government of Catalonia, Carles Puigdemont; the imprisoned members of his government; and against the EU’s stance on the supposed independence referendum. I unfortunately ended up in the melee as it was literally outside my flat and I had to walk through the masses streaming Catalan flags to get to work.

Like with the slavery protest, I was inflamed by the same passion. Yet this time, the anger and frustration was pointed at these nationalists. How can two protests, with the same chants, calling for almost the same thing be worlds apart from eachother? How can the voice of one set of oppressed people be equal to the other?

They can’t. I don’t pretend to understand the Catalan independence movement and the suffering of its people but I do understand this: there really are people on this earth who do not have the freedom to express themselves, who do not have a constitution that protects them, who ARE NOT FREE. The Catalan people, in the most basic sense of the word, ARE FREE. They can vote in elections, they can express their opinions, they can freely travel, they are NOT BOUGHT AND SOLD.

The freedom to protest is a precious and hard-fought freedom. I am thankful we can do so without risking our lives. But the chants and demands of one protest this week cannot equate with the other the week before. Protest without perspective is pointless.

 

 

Simmering in the subconscious

“Everyone instinctively knows when the moment is right to jump in. And when you do, seize the moment, grab it.”

Peter de Meersman, Tulibris

I am very interested in people who have decided to leave their day jobs and try something completely different or venture out on their own. I’ve come across quite a few of these characters here in Brussels: the belgian civil servant turned book shop owner, the jewellery consultant turned entrepreneur, the european civil servant turned soup-seller on a food bike. And of course it’s not just in Brussels; in Frankfurt there’s a former Deutsche Bank employee turned food vlogger.

I interviewed the book shop owner and the entrepreneur for Together magazine, and I’m currently finishing up another piece on office workers turned chocolate makers, Mike & Becky. I really, really admire these people and I think I can sort of piece together some of their common traits.

First, these entrepreneurs, or ‘Bohemian Businessmen‘ as Tom Hodgkinson from ‘The Idler‘ would say, found a gap in the market and went for it: I think Peter de Meersman’s secondhand english bookshop may be the only one in Brussels. As for the jewellery consultant turned entrepreneur, Anne-Sofie Rehfeld found that coworking spaces at the time were not particularly homely or inviting so she decided to set up a space that was just that. Mike & Becky found that nowhere in Brussels sold a good hot chocolate.

It also seemed like they had some sort of security or support. Peter is on sabbatical from the civil service, Anne-Sofie has a very supportive husband, and Mike & Becky have eachother.

What I took away most from these conversations was that the decision to leave the day job was not exactly an ‘Eureka!’ moment. Rather, it was a process, or to coin Peter’s apt phrase, it was simmering in the subconcious. For Peter, his business idea was simmering in his subconscious for 25 years.

I had been keen to quit the day job. Perhaps, it’s age or perhaps it’s because I see life is a struggle that I realise for now, quitting the day job would envisage a lot of struggle. Struggle that I am too tired for. Instead, may be the best way is to keep it simple, keep going, keep allowing my ideas to simmer naturally, and enjoy the pleasure of the slow build. My right moment may not be here yet.

I hope you take inspiration from these entrepreneurs: quitting the day job with Peter de Meersman and breaking the norm of office space design with Anne-Sofie Rehfeld.

 

Money versus happiness

“…that of all things worth having in life, such as kindness, wisdom, and the human affections, none are on offer in the world’s shopping-malls.“

– A.C. Grayling, The Meaning of Things

I followed a course on how to be idle, run by the Idler Academy. I came across this academy a couple of years back when I was doing a bit of research on being idle for the blog. Becoming idle (rather than ‘being idle’, as I feel that I am yet to achieve such a state) is very much a goal of mine. How do I free up my time and rely on less materially, to cultivate my mind and one day, make a living from something I really enjoy doing? That is a lot to ask, but one has to at least make a start.

One of the sessions of the course is about being thrifty, this is very much a key to becoming idle. Being thrifty is necessary since idleness inevitably involves earning less. The Idler Academy advises us to learn to love accounting. A simple way to start is to note down how much one spends every day. I have been doing this for over a year and it’s amazing to realise how much I can spend on not that much really. I remember I spent over €20 on a very disappointing fish and chips. When I noted it down in my little accounting book, I swore that I would never spend as much money again on shite. If I’m going to fork out €20 for lunch, it better be good.

I have also miraculously managed to work part-time. I say miraculously because my day job is in a very big organisation with a lot of rules, procedures and hierarchy. I honestly didn’t think it would be possible, but with preparation, opportunity and negotiation, I managed to get some time off per week. I plan to use this time to write more and explore other opportunities, and sometimes, just be idle.

With the reduced working week comes the reduced salary. The difference is quite remarkable and I have to tighten my belt. But again, my little accounting book comes in handy: I’ve learnt to budget and stay on top of my spending. Plus, it’s fun to be a bit more resourceful and less wasteful.

When I returned to work on Monday (after the first week of part-time), my boss asked me how were my few days of freedom. “Really nice,” I said. They were. For a couple of days a week, I am free. I remember on my first day off I was dancing around listening to Justin Timberlake. I was elated.

Sometimes I miss the extra cash, but then again, what’s the point of having it if I don’t actually have the time to spend it? I could save it, of course but I’m saving it for future expense. If my goal is to try to make a living out of my passion, then my free time is worth more now than the additional money in the future.

For Together magazine, I wrote about the money versus happiness dilemma. The inspiration for the article came from staying with a widower in Indonesia. She didn’t have a lot materially, but she was happy. And I think what made her happy was the daily connections and interactions with her neighbours and her family. Enjoy the read.

Saying f**k it to goals

My goal, ahem, for what’s left of 2016 is to try and put up all my publications online.

This article for Together magazine focused on goals. Is it good to set goals? Yes, they give you direction, a target, and a sense of achievement once you’ve reached them. On the other hand, no it’s not good, as you can become goal crazy, putting your health, self or others at risk just to achieve them.

Sometimes, it’s really nice not to have a goal. It’s great to just drift along and see where life takes you. You may be pleasantly surprised. I’m quite partial to the “go with the flow” attitude, but once and a while, I check in with myself and stay conscious of where I’m going. When it no longer feels like the right direction, I pull over and get my map out (or ask someone)!

So I hope you enjoy the article.

Finally, you may have noticed that the citizens of the US did something quite spectacular on Tuesday. There’s been a lot of fear mongering since and it’s true, we really don’t know what’s going to happen. But just with Brexit, maybe the best thing is to focus on today, rather than on what might be, and on what is beyond our control. Let’s do what we can: protest peacefully, hold our politicians to account and be part of the citizenry.

P.S I’m with Dilbert.

Sisters in Islam

“You must be responsible for what you do, as well as for what you don’t do.“

– Seyran Ates, muslim feminist

During a visit to Malaysia last year, I was very fortunate to spend some time volunteering at Sisters In Islam, an NGO that advocates the rights of muslim women predominantly in Malaysia, with many networks across the muslim world.

I came across them through an article on Facebook that a friend had posted. I can’t quite remember its content but I remember feeling particularly heartened by what they were saying. They were muslim women who believed in reform in Islam, as well as the application of critical thinking and common sense when it comes to the practice of Islam. They appeared open, liberal, spiritual and erudite. I knew that I had to contact them.

It was through my voluntary work that I met and got to know Ratna Osman, the then Executive Director of SIS. My first proper occasion with her was going to Australia Day celebrations just beside the Petronas twin towers, right in the heart of Kuala Lumpur. It was during the car journey that she told me a little bit about her life story, that she had gone from a path of extremism to one of reform. Those few minutes of listening to her encouraged me to later interview her for Together magazine.

If you have followed my blog over the years, you probably know that I am very much an admirer of Irshad Manji, whose work in trying to prevent Islam from being hijacked by extremists has put her life at risk. Thus through SIS, I learnt about other incredible muslim feminists, like the American Amina Wadud, who led Friday prayers of a mixed gender congregation, and the Iranian Ziba Mir-Hosseini, who writes and teaches extensively on gender equality in Islam. These women, Ratna Osman, and Sisters In Islam give me hope. Their voice, intellect and courage are much needed in this time when we are asking, what does it mean to be muslim?

Perhaps my tardiness at uploading my articles comes at an opportune time. This week I met Seyran Ates, a German lawyer of Turkish decent, at a debate on the integration of migrants. She has written books on Islamic reform, one notably called ‘Islam needs a sexual revolution‘. At 21 years of age, she was shot in the neck because of her work at a womens’ shelter. Today, she lives under police protection. Her devotion to show the moderate, tolerant, peaceful side of Islam is worth more than her own life. She believes that she has to take on the responsibility of being a role model, not only to young muslims (and in particularly female ones) but also to the rest of society. Next year, she will open a mosque in Berlin.

This week’s blog post is dedicated to the sisters in Islam: the women like Ratna, like Seyran, who despite the rise in extremism, don’t give up on their faith, and work even harder to understand it and tell us about it.

The interview with Ratna Osman is my first ever interview for the magazine. Of all my articles, it is the one I am most proud of. Read the article in full online, or it is also on p. 44 of the magazine. Below is a short extract to get you started.

Until next week, happy reading!

Sisters in Islam: In search of peace – Gemma Rose learns about Ratna Osman’s journey from extremism to reformism

The first thing I notice about Ratna Osman – the Executive Director of Sisters in Islam (SIS), a Muslim women’s NGO based in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia – is her hijab, or tudung in Malay. It’s not quite a hijab in the traditional sense where only her face is left uncovered. Rather, her hair is covered in a wrap leaving her whole neck visible. Ratna has worn the headscarf since the age of 15. “I used to say that once I reach 50, I’ll take it off because then I would be considered an old woman,” she recalls to me, “but now that I’m approaching 50, I still think I’m quite young!” she giggles. Her beaming smile is the second thing I notice. It’s broad, complemented by dimples, on a face that exhibits much warmth and hospitality. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever take it off,” she reflects. “It’s become part of my identity.”

The headscarf remains a controversial issue in Muslim majority Malaysia, where it is not compulsory. In her youth, Ratna felt ostracized from her peers, both Muslim and non-Muslim, for covering her hair. “I was part of a small minority wearing it at that time,” she explained. “I was laughed at, jeered at, made uncomfortable. A teacher told me to take it off because it was an obstruction. Most of my close friends stayed away from me. It was quite a lonely world,” she says. “Now, it’s the other way around.” She refers to cases where Muslim girls at school have been harassed for exposing their hair. “And I feel for those who are not covered. They have the right to dress as they are because I believe in the freedom of choice, and that nobody needs to dictate to another human being. Only God can do that.”

Read more…

Ratna Osman’s beaming smile. Photo from Malaysia Tatler magazine.

 

Living room Legend: Marcia Clark

“I could feel justice being subverted long before we started picking a jury. I could feel the trial turning into a circus.”

– Marcia Clark

One of the things I’ve been meaning to do for a while on the blog is write a short hommage to the people who have really impressed me: dead or alive, real or fictional. There has been something so extraordinary about who they are, what they have done, or even the circumstances that have happened to them, that they are worthy of being a “legend” in my eyes.  One definition of ‘legend’ in the urban dictionary is this: “A legend is someone or something whose coolness extends beyond all space and time”. I’ll go with that.

This month’s living room legend is Marcia Clark, the lead prosecutor of what was considered the trial of the 20th century, the People of the State of California v O.J. Simpson. Twenty years later, the trial has been serialised into ten episodes, The People v O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story. Marcia Clark is portrayed excellently by Sarah Paulson. As an aside, there were many notable actors in this series including Courtney B. Vance, Sterling K. Brown and John Travolta (!).

Marcia Clark was relentlessly criticised during the trial. If it wasn’t her perm, then it was her dress sense (she wore sombre, straigh-cut suits), or the fact that she seemed to come across as a bitch in the court room. Her private life was laid open to bare: old pictures of her being topless on the beach re-surfaced, her custody battle with her ex-husband. She faced sexism in the court: Johnny Cochrane quipped about the fact that she could not stay late in court because of child care. I recommend you read this good New York magazine article which encapsulates the mockery, sexism, misogyny, retorts she endured not just in the press, but in court too.

Yet, she carried on. She worked hard on the case to persuade the jury that it was the overwhelming evidence that mattered, not the racism of the LAPD. In the series, after the verdict was given, Gil Carcetti, the District Attorney, tells Marcia how much he admired her. She fought with integrity, even when the defence  were pulling every trick in the book to undermine her professionally and personally.

Gil Carcetti stated that the no guilty verdict was based on emotion, not reason. Unfortunately, in the heated aftermath of the Rodney King riots, African Americans in Los Angeles were still reeling from police racism and brutality. Only from the distance of twenty years does one realise that this case wasn’t really about the murders of two people, it was about the fallout of America’s ugly and complicated history with race.

For Marcia, not only did she have this to struggle with, but also the sexism thrown at her. Seeing the blatant misogyny twenty years later is shamefully laughable. The New York magazine article highlights the time of the 80s and 90s where feminism was on pause, that calling oneself a feminist was viewed negatively. With no internet, no social media, the tabloids ruled and columnists, newscasters, and chatshow hosts could ridicule and criticise and the public would just swallow it. Unlike today, there was very little room for dissent, or for female solidarity.

Things appeared to have moved on a bit since then. Being chastised for child care, or labelled as “hysterical” or a bitch for doing your job would be unacceptable in the workplace today. Yet, it still saddens me when a female news anchor’s flowing locks garner more attention than the actual news, as happened to Anne Claire Coudray on French telly, or when female newsreaders or presenters are dropped from their shows for being too old.

Looks like gender equality has a long way to go and Marcia Clark bore the brunt of sexism. But she was committed to her job and fought the good fight. For this, Marcia Clark, you are a living room legend.

Photo from The Guardian.

Late bloomers

“The fashion in recent times has been for the young to hold centre stage as if they were the only important form of human being.”

– A.C. Grayling, The Meaning of Things

For the February 2015 issue of Together magazine, I wrote about “Late Bloomers”.

I consider myself a bit of a late bloomer. My love of writing, reading and philosophy only came to me later in life. I certainly recall hating reading as a child and the only writing I enjoyed was doodling a few poems here and there on the back cover of my exercise books. As for philosophy, well that involved reading so enough said. I did, however, have an inquisitive mind.

I was (and am) particularly struck by very talented people who also happen to be very young. Unfortunately, it is more out of envy rather than awe or admiration. To appease my jealousy and reassure me that it’s ok to be one, I embarked upon a quest to discover late bloomers. I learnt about many a late bloomer, some to my surprise and perhaps to yours.

Although it’s wonderful to marvel at the great, late bloomers, we should just as well welcome the lesser known ones: those who flourished in adversity; or those that found joy in finally finding something they enjoy doing and became good at, e.g. cooking, aromatherapy, mentoring, DIY.

Here’s a short excerpt to entice you with the link to the magazine. It’s on page 29 of the magazine (p. 15 of the Pdf). Alternatively you can read a shortened online version. But to get a good sense of what I’m talking about, read the full magazine version.

Enjoy and do leave me a comment. Are you a late bloomer? I would love to hear from you.

Late bloomers : Gemma Rose writes in praise of those whose talent bloomed later in life

At last year’s TEDxBrussels, I was particularly struck by one of the speakers, Lina Colucci, who spoke about health hackathons. Health hackathons bring together specialists from different disciplines as well as consumer groups to respond innovatively to medical problems. At the age of 16, Lina began redesigning the ballet shoe so as to limit the pain and deformity done to the ballerina’s foot. This award-winning idea led her towards collaborating with Nike in updating the pointe shoe. Currently, she is a PhD student on a joint MIT and Harvard programme, dances ballet with the Harvard Ballet company and is an accomplished clarinetist. Judging by her CV and her appearance, she could not have been any older than 25.

Society tends to place a lot of value on youth. We often hear of the meteoric rise of actors, musicians, entrepreneurs, CEOs and inspirational leaders in their twenties, sometimes even in their teens. Forbes magazine does an annual “30 under 30” with movers and shakers in several domains including law and policy, education, entertainment and social entrepreneurship. This phenomenon is nothing new. Some of the greatest artists, composers, writers and scientists were so notable in part due to their youth – Picasso became well-known at 26, Mozart at 21, Orson Welles at 25 and Einstein at 26.

Read more… (pp. 15 – 16 on the Pdf)

Gardanne (1885 – 86) by Paul Cézanne, a late bloomer.

References

Late Bloomers, Malcolm Gladwell for The New Yorker

Interview with Uncle Yee, Lite FM

The Meaning of Things, A.C. Grayling

Why we should all hack medicine, Lina Colucci, Tedx Brussels 2014

It’s not too late to make a difference, Jonathan Sackner-Bernstein, Tedx Brussels 2014

Freedom to write

“I won’t put down my pen, I won’t lay down my camera, I won’t shut up and I won’t be blinkered or turn a deaf ear to what goes on in Malaysia and the world. And I urge all of you to do the same.”

– Jahabar Sadiq, editor of the now closed The Malaysian Insider

It was with great sadness to read the other day about the closure of The Malaysian Insider. It was a news portal that was independent, written in both Malay and English, informing the Malaysian public and the world of the realities of Malaysia.

The official line was that it was closing down because of lack of funds, which is true. But the reason why it was losing funding was because the Malaysian Government had put pressure on companies not to advertise with the organisation. The Government also blocked the site. The reasons for the pressure and block were due to the reporting on the 1 Malaysia Development Berhad scandal, a Malaysian state fund, which money from it has been allegedly embezzled. The Prime Minister Najib Razak is the head of its advisory board and was caught up in investigations as to how US$681m ended up in his bank account and where it came from. The Prime Minister has been cleared in Malaysia of any wrongdoing. Many investigators including the FBI, Swizerland, Hong Kong and Singapore are examining the misappropriation of 1MDB funds.

The Malaysian Insider reported that there was evidence of a criminal charge against the Prime Minister. Shortly after, its site was blocked. Three weeks later, it shut down.

I came across the editor’s obituary of the Malaysian Insider in the Guardian. The site had 59 staffers, representing 1 Malaysia in its true form: the Malay, Chinese and Indian peoples of Malaysia. “We were becoming too free,” he writes, “as the government side of the news became the object of derision and ridicule.” The press has become too free in Malaysia, thanks to the internet. But blocking and arrests “make people shut up,” and shut down, to borrow his sentiment.

Whether it is writing to uncover the truth, or to question convention, it is incredible how the pen, or the keyboard can upset Governments, fanatics and the status quo. But as Sadiq fears, we cannot be prisoners in our minds because of repression. He urges us not to put down the pen or shut down the laptop.

The photo below comes from The Malaysian Insider’s site. You see the 59 or so staffers smiling and vivacious, even though an organisation that is so dear to them comes to a close. The top of photo lies the caption in bold capital letters: Thank you Malaysia.

I hope that Malaysia, in return, thanks you.

 

Settling for an ‘8’

“And I challenge you, above all, to date yourself.”

– Gemma Rose, Settling for an ‘8’, Together magazine

This is probably one of my favourite articles for Together magazine. I am really into romantic relationships: reading, writing, watching, talking about them as well as experiencing them. In my blog and magazine articles, I refer regularly to the advice from my relationship gurus, Matthew Hussey and Natalie Lue. So when I got the opportunity to write about relationships for last December’s issue, I decided to focus on the idea of settling for second (or third or fourth) best in relationships.

“Don’t settle!” is a phrase I hear a lot, and it’s one that I’ve used all too blindingly on friends. But, I think it can be very misleading because the idea of settling is very subjective. It’s probably quite difficult to know if second best is actually so because we may not have a clue about who is best for us. The more I read on relationships – as well as be in one – I realise that being self-aware plays a key role in finding the right person. Knowing who you are will hopefully help you know what you want and separate “the wheat from the chaff“.

I’ve pasted part of the article below. If it entices you, you can read it in full (p.17 – 18 on pdf) or a shortened online version. The longer version is better! After the excerpt, I’ve also added references to the article, in case you want to read more.

I hope you enjoy it, and if you have time, leave a comment or write to me with your thoughts. What do you think it means to settle in a relationship? Do you think we should? Is there really such thing as The One, or should we just go for the ‘8’?

Settling for an ‘8’: Gemma Rose wonders if we should settle for second best in love

When I recently read an article by Lori Gottlieb for the Atlantic magazine, written in 2008, ‘Marry Him! The case for settling for Mr. Good Enough‘, I was initially saddened by what she had to say: that once a woman is over 30 and is single, she obviously wants to get married and have children. Thus, she should start being less picky because once she gets to 40, the dating pool reduces considerably and she only has the dregs to choose from. Gottlieb was then in her early 40s and a single mum. She yearned for a man in her life and regretted dismissing so easily those men she met in her 20s and 30s. Whether you should hold out for the love of your life or settle, Gottlieb is clear:

“My advice is this: Settle! That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in movie theatres. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a family, settling is the way to go. Based on my observations, in fact, settling will probably make you happier in the long run, since many of those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with each passing year.”

Following the success – or the controversy – surrounding this article, Gottlieb wrote a book (under the same title) to delve deeper into the issue. Although I have not read the book, subsequent interviews with Gottlieb suggest that the book paints a slightly less depressing picture compared to the original article. She appears to say that the person of our dreams does not exist; that we should give people a chance rather than simply dismiss them because there was no instant chemistry, or because they were called Sheldon. Go for the ‘8’, she says, instead of holding out for the ‘10’, because you’ll be waiting a long time.

Read more… (p.17 – 19 of Pdf).

References:

How we end up marrying the wrong people, The Philosophers’ Mail

What I’m really thinking: the matchmaker, The Guardian

For good advice on emotional unavailability, read Baggage Reclaim by Natalie Lue

The driving force of fear

“Fear drives us to do many things in our lives. For me, the fear of losing a loved one, and all those terrifying thoughts of what it’s like to be left behind and feel alone, drove me to conceive and write this story.”

Cecilia Ahern, P.S I love you

I read this book recently on my holiday. Honestly, I’ve read better books but what encouraged (forced) me to keep reading was this first sentence of the note from the author. When I got back from holiday, I also decided to watch the film to see what all the fuss about and I have to say the book was far better (why do Americans overdo Ireland so much?), although the film’s saving grace is Lisa Kudrow.

The quote above resounds so much with me because I have a fear that drives me. A fear of being stuck in a routine, or a lifestyle that doesn’t suit me. I know that something isn’t right when I get a funny urge in my body, one where something inside just wants to leap out of me, take hold of me and shove me into the spotlight. But then my slow brain takes over – the thinker – and it just says, “Not yet.”

I am waiting for the day when the urge is so strong that my slow brain will say, “Now.”