Questions, unanswered.


More prayers or no more g*ds?

More trust or trust no more?

Whom do you trust? Why not?

Why are there so many experts and what does a „terrorism expert“ wants to explain?

Why are we talking about ‚individual terrorists‘? Do those individuals live all by themselves?

Why is „angry young men“ another category of its own? Where are the angry mothers, desperate sisters, outraged fiancées, loud daughters, confident grandmothers, concerned aunts and out-shouting nieces?

How are the relatives, who lost their loved ones looked after?

Does someone protect them from the pictures?

Does someone protect them from the rumors?

Can they bid farewell in silence?

Who are all those men or women who are able to explain the world behind their notebook screen?

When I was in Pakistan it turned out I was really in Afghanistan, how do you all know about the borders of states that ceased to exist quite a while ago even when the map producers did not notice it yet?

Are you sure you know what you are asking when shouting for the introduction of the death sentence? In New-Delhi where I spend quite a lot of time, Yakub Memon the lone death row convict of the Mumbai blasts of 1993 was sentenced to death. The  execution was reported live on TV. Outside of the hospital a crowd gathered, they were shouting: „Hang them, hang them“. The Muslim nurses did not dare to leave the hospital that day. I paid for the taxis taking them home. Are you really sure, you know what you are asking for?

Did the media outside of Delhi and Karachi cover those events? Are you listening?

Who are they? Who are we? Is there an us?

Who are they?

What are our values?

Do they have any values?

Why do they dream of blood and death and never of warm hands and sunshine in the afternoon?

Are we defensive? Defended? Who defends us?

Do we live in cynical times?

If you call for a 17- foot high wall today, don’t you believe that there will be an 18- foot ladder by tomorrow?

Is Paris a stand-in for where we are right now?

If so, how do we got there?

Will there be a way out?

What does Beirut stand for?

How far from Paris is Nairobi?

Do we care? Really?

What do the policemen and policewomen tell their wives and husbands?

Who listens to the policemen and nurses, who asks if the doctors and psychologists get on well, today and tomorrow and the day after tomorrow?


When we, you and I, met in Kabul, you on your way to the south of the country and I on my way back to Karachi you asked me: are you afraid? I said: no. You said: me neither. We both knew, we were not telling the truth. I still am stubborn enough to say: I am not afraid.

Am I just a gambler?

Are you afraid?

What are you afraid of?

Do you read Voltaire?

Are we still here?

Before opening the fire, did the men in the car smoke a last cigarette, turned the radio louder and is there really, really not a bit of doubt before shooting people right into the face?

Why not?


Do we really want to know?

Are we allowed to hide away?

How to answer all the questions?

4 thoughts on “Questions, unanswered.

  1. This is thought-provoking writing, Read On, and deserves a wide audience because you ask questions that echo in many hearts. The two that stopped me, plunging me into thought, were „…Where are the angry mothers, desperate sisters, outraged fiancées…“ and „If you call for a 17- foot high wall today, don’t you believe that there will be an 18- foot ladder by tomorrow?“ And, sadly, I don’t know how to answer any of them.

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