On Sunday, June 22nd, we will be hosting a Palestinian breakfast with spBR organisers Jawad and Jonny, joined by Ruba, who is from the West Bank.
He will be leading a discussion on ‘Sumud’ – an all-encompassing term which refers to the resilience and steadfastness of Palestinian people.
But it is more than simply a reference term. It has become an emblem of resistance and for many an integral part of how they live their life.
Below, Mustafa, who visited Sheffield in 2006 as a part of the Al Asria dance tour describes what Sumud means to him.
Whilst he is now safe in Norway his family, from Jabalia refugee camp in North Gaza, are suffering the most terrible ordeal.
Please join us at 10 am on Sunday 22nd June in the Palestine Voices Tent outside Meersbrook Hall for breakfast and discussion.
What Sumud (صمود) truly means for me, Mustafa Awad
Sumud means standing tall when everything is collapsing around you.
It means not giving up even after losing your cousin, your family, your home — everything.
It means crying every night, having nightmares, feeling broken, but refusing to be defeated.
Sumud is when your family calls and tells you they have no food — and even though your heart is shattered, you still speak out, you still fight.
It’s when your mother, brothers, and sisters are starving, living without water or electricity, and the world just watches — but you still believe in justice.
Sumud is saying “I will never bow my head.”
It’s screaming to the world that what’s happening is genocide — and you will never be silent.
It’s being angry and hurt, but still strong. It’s losing family and still saying, “If I lose more, I will never give up.”
Sumud is refusing to be dehumanised. It’s shouting the truth when others stay silent. It’s saying loudly: “I have the right to be angry, I have the right to say ‘fxxk occupation’, and I have the right to never surrender.”
Sumud is when you teach your children to grow up strong — to never forget the uncles and aunts who were slaughtered on live TV while the world did nothing.
It’s keeping their memory alive, turning pain into strength.
It’s being tired, heartbroken, full of rage — but saying with pride:
“We were born strong. We will die strong. Nothing will break us”