Geneva Beneath the Flags: Where the Forgotten Sleep!

A poet’s return, a city’s contradiction, and the urgent need for a deeper humanitarian lens

I returned to Geneva this September (two visits in a month)... exhausted, unbooked, and guided only by instinct. Three trains, two with 3 connections, one with one connection at 2:10 am. I come the early bird. No sleep. No certainty. Just the rhythm of a soul seeking shelter. I found a room. I found my inbox. I found a reminder that my words still echo, even if only faintly.

But Geneva did not greet me with comfort. It greeted me with contradiction. I walked past families sleeping on sidewalks... children curled beside their parents beneath the glow of international institutions. This is not a failure of charity. It is a failure of frameworks.

Human rights must not live only in declarations and treaties. They must walk the streets. They must shelter the forgotten. They must answer the question: How can a city of protection allow such visible neglect?

I’ve seen this pattern before in Denmark, where 25 years of residence ended in conspiracies and retaliation for my critiques of authorities. I’ve seen it in Iraq, many countries in Africa and the Middle East and Sudan. Sudan, where the media’s narrative is a distant echo of the truth. Sudan’s crisis did not begin with headlines. It began with a long, quiet orchestration and regional players circling a nation prepared for disappearance. My archive in exile exposes this. My voice carries it.

I am in contact with UNHCR, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, and may reach out to Human Rights Watch and others. I’ve proposed lectures, not just meetings. Because the public must know. Because the staff must hear. Because the sidewalks of Geneva are not separate from the story. They are the story.

A Geneva poet is in pain.