Journalism in the UK is 94 per cent white and 55 per cent male, while only 0.4 per cent of journalists are Muslim and 0.2 per cent are Black. The publishing industry's statistics are equally dire. Many publications will use British Black, Indigenous People of Colour when it's convenient; typically, when the region the writer represents is topical and newsworthy. Otherwise, their voices are left muted.
Haramacy amplifies under-represented voices. Tackling topics previously left unspoken, this anthology offers a space for writers to explore ideas that mainstream organisations overlook. Focusing on the experiences of twelve Middle Eastern and South Asian writers, the essays explore visibility, invisibility, love, strength and race, painting a picture of what it means to feel fractured - both in the UK and back home. Appreciating both heritage and adopted home, the anthology highlights the various shades that make up our society.
The title, Haramacy, is an amalgamation of the Arabic word 'haram', meaning indecent or forbidden, and the English word 'pharmacy', implying a safe, trustworthy space that prescribes the antidote to ailments caused by intersectional, social issues.
The book features contributions by novelists, journalists, and artists including Aina J. Khan, Ammar Kalia, Cyrine Sinti, Joe Zadeh, Kieran Yates, Nasri Atallah, Nouf Alhimiary, Saleem Haddad and Sanjana Varghese, as well as essays by editors Dhruva Balram, Tara Joshi and Zahed Sultan.
4.5. These essays were thought provoking and so tender. Things I have thought about myself, and things I hadn’t which will stay with me. The last essay, Rest, was so interesting and also had me tearing up. I loved loved how all these stories and experiences were so different and varied, but still had similar themes overall with incredible and gorgeous writing. They’ll stay with me and I highly recommend
First off, haramacy is such a clever name, bravo. I really liked this essay collection. As with essays, some are better than others. There are a few from this that will stick with me, particularly “The Illegitimate Indian” by Cyrine Sinti, and “On Being Loud” by Amar Kalia. I have always been drawn to multi-hyphenate, diasporic stories and this book really captured me.
This is a collection of 11 personal essays, by writers from the Middle East, South Asia and the Diaspora. The topics explore the complexities and nuances of identity; on the importance of finding your voice and your community (or communities); the meaning of home, and more.
Some essays are slightly more abstract than others. While I understood the correlation between racism and poor health, I never understood before how leisure time is a privilege many BIPOC people do not enjoy. Thank you, Kieran Yates, for your piece on the "power in the politics of rest.
But there's something to learn in all of these essays. Cyrine Sinti's The Illegitimate Indian is a gripping family history of Banjara Gypsies forced by discrimination from Punjab, to Europe and the hell of Auschwitz. With a German father and Gypsy mother, Cyrine unpacks being told the dances she inherited from her Banjari ancestors amount to 'cultural appropriation'. Joe Zadeh also explores his biracial roots and offers up Filipino-American clinical psychologist Maria P.P. Root's arguments that "mixed-race individuals can expand the discussion and potentially take us beyond race." Saleem Haddad's thought provoking "Who Owns A Story?" explores representation as he discovers his own identity as a gay Arab writer.
This is a very well-written collection on the dangers and delights of invisibility and visibility and of being able to claim and experience all of yourself. The title Haramacy is a play on the Arabic word 'haram', meaning indecent or forbidden, and the English word pharmacy.
Stand-out contributions, for me, were Saleem Haddad's "Who Owns A Story"; Joe Zadeh ("The Ballad of the Kangaroo Bandit") on the idea of 'mixed race'; and Kieran Yates on racial inequities in rest and sleep. Essays from Cyrine Sinti and Tara Joshi - very different, but sharing themes of family, loss, distance and love - were beautiful and moving; and Ammar Kalia's elegy for jazz had sparks of magic. A wonderful collection, with each author enriching the whole, and sharing their own very personal stories, understandings and voices. Zahed Sultan concludes the epilogue, "collective work is necessary", and this anthology is a testament to that.
These personal essays spoke to the very core of my being. As a member of the Bangladeshi diasporic community in the UK, I've grappled with most if not all of the themes and issues discussed by all the writers in this collection... Even the comedy is so similar to myself. At time it's given me uncomfortable truths but I finished the book feeling light, like I can step out with a better grasp of who I am and who I can be. And most importantly it helped me begin to understand who I have been this entire time. I sincerely hope they do a Haramacy workshop in Newcastle... We need it up here, the Northern arts are drying up as the South eats up the talent like a gourmand!
Powerful stories of talented writers from across SWANA. Each story, meticulously woven with precision and passion, serves as a window into the intricate dance of personal identity within the embrace of a larger community and diaspora. The tales on the common theme of "Fractures" resonate deeply, echoing the complex experiences of grappling with, understanding, and envisioning one's place in a constantly evolving landscape we may (or may not) call home. As a child of migrants myself, I found myself touched but also challenged more often than I would've expected. In any case, this anthology left me revisiting some important questions of identity and belonging. 🧿
3.5/5 A nice collection of bite sized essays, capturing a myriad voices and experiences. I will say I had hoped to find reading this a bit more emotive having often been an immigrant myself in foreign countries. But it fell a little bit short of that.
Some of the accounts left no deep impression, while others were a pleasure to read highlighting insightful common threads between all diaspora. All in all, happy I picked it up.
This is a lovely collection of perspectives that brought to my attention some issues that I was unaware of (such as for Punjabi people) and further helped me understand things I was aware of (such as the villainization of Muslims or the anglicizing of complex names). Overall I found it informative and interesting, although I wish there had been more essays and a couple of them felt hastily thrown together.
Stellar stop in my stories/essays collections experiment. Such an interesting, emotional, thought-provoking amalgamation of different voices and lenses around loosely similar “feelings” - I loved it.
Stirred up lots of feelings as a raised-Muslim-now-atheist and Bangladeshi-American (mostly American first). So much to relate to and reflect on. Huge fan
Favorites: Rest, On Being Loud, Kangaroo Bandit, Illegitimate Indian, On Saying Goodbye
„That the very image of Brown people praying has been weaponised by some sections of British society while white yoga mums perform aspirational ‘Oms’ tells us something about who is allowed to meditate in peace”.
“I find myself wondering more and more : is immigration in itself a form of grief?”
I questioned why I oscillated between needing closeness and solitude.. where my conflicting aggressive need for independence and severe fear of abandonment came from .. all of these questions I could travel back to one original point of tension: being caught between homelands and heartlands while belonging to neither and both simultaneously..
A collection of short stories and essays on being detached by the majority, on feeling uprooted, diverse, an island. A collection of short stories and essays on looking for a connection with our humanity. A glorious book of which I loved every single page.
I thought I would like this more than I did. My favourite essay was Rest by Kieran Yates - I’ve never heard of the sleep gap before and thought it was an interesting concept. Other essays I thought were good - ‘The ballad of the kangaroo bandit’ and ‘Gary is not my name’