Luck is bestowed upon those selected few blessed with introduction to a land of bluebells and crimson flowers who in their beauty remind us of the lives of our martyrs and our newborns.

Luck is bestowed upon the selected few who share the knowledge of a land where happiness is in simplicity, and comfort is in monotony.

Luck is bestowed upon you and me for knowing the true meaning of the arrival of spring and the rising of the sun on the morning where victory is announced to daylight and winter goes to sleep.

On a graceful afternoon we begin one more year of 2707 years of history and though our Newruz has been overshadowed, and much like our people neglected and abandoned, our strength has endured. Much talk has been done on the suffering of the Kurds but our people are building, growing, overcoming, surviving and above all have hope that tomorrow will be a better day, that this year will be better than last. Our success is countless though our misery is beyond numbers, but the mere idea that somewhere across the world our people are finally able to walk, talk, dance, sing, learn and grow in their own mother tongue, where our people breath the fresh air of their own land gives us that much more drive, desire, need, to hold hands and speak of what we can do to flourish. Someone once said “forgive but don’t forget” but our suffering is unforgivable and unforgettable and it is neither fair nor humane to forgive or forget but what must be done is to have hope and to build on that hope every day of our lives. Newruz is not just the beginning of spring and the time of celebration and gathering, it is time to begin one more peaceful battle in the hopes of winning the war that the world has gagged upon us. It is time to begin to hold, to have, to believe that the sight and scent of freedom is close by and though mountains are no friends and the world has turned their backs on us countless times, people are still innately good and will stand for our cause if only luck be bestowed upon them to know of our existence. Perhaps it seems as though the world holds true that knowledge is sorrow and ignorance is bliss but indeed knowledge is power, power to acknowledge ourselves, power to speak of our needs and demand redemption.

I am here to make one request: I ask only that each and one of you find just one person and share your stories, be the voices of the silenced children of Halabja and speak of the truth so that more of the world is aware of our ambitions in the face of horrific tragedies, so that more of the world can begin a new year with us and fight injustice along side our people, so that more of the world can be lucky to know our culture, our customs, our glories and the fall but most importantly our rising future.

Luck be bestowed upon ignorance…