Anouar Rahmani's Official Website

Only two days remain for me before I leave City of Asylum for good.
An experience that cannot be explained or reduced to an article, but I will try as much as I can to tell what I am able to condense, for memory, for gratitude, and for what remains of words.

I am not exaggerating when I say that this experience is equivalent to a PhD or more. And that door that opens every evening for the parties, one cannot walk out of it the same way one walked in.

Years in this place during which I came to know some of the best people who have passed through my life. I cannot say everyone was on the same level, but most were unforgettable people. People who remain stuck in the memory forever.

Things I regretted saying, and words I regretted not saying. Things I attained, and others that stayed suspended in the air. I got angry, I smiled, I cried, I felt proud, and everything passed as if it were nothing but sea foam.

These are my last days at the City of Asylum organization. Days in which I catch my breath and look back: what I left, what I did, my patience at times, and my impulsiveness at other times. Things I loved very much, and others I wished had been better.

City of Asylum saved me. It gave me a platform to speak from. It restored my dignity more than once. I lived there the sweet and the bitter: from the Salman Rushdie incident that shook me from within, to the mysterious death of my friend Shiber. And between them, many invitations, many questions, and many parties that did not end. But the sorrow inside is not erased. Sometimes we cast our sorrow onto the people closest to us, onto those we love.

There was a lot of competition among writers, and there was a lot of love, too. Everyone wants the stage, but when the blood cools, everyone wants life. In the end, it is only about life, how to survive. No more and no less. The life that lets us down sometimes and stalls us at other times, but always leaves us a small reason so we do not lose hope.

I would be lying if I said my experience was always ideal. People change, and others come along. Some are like angels, and some have been weighed down by life and no longer care much. But the steadfast ones are the most beautiful. They are the soul of this organization. The soul that made me, more than once, feel appreciation and gratitude.

City of Asylum has, since its founding, brought life back to the city of Pittsburgh, and brought in voices from all over the world to protect this city’s iron from rust. And since I arrived, I found generous, friendly people who believe in what they say, keen to preserve this spirit. I loved them to the point that they got under my skin, became part of me, and I will never forget them as long as I live.

In the end, what always remains are the beautiful things. I remember every joke said offhand, every evening gathering, every laugh, every embrace, every hug, every smile, every hope, every dinner, every party, every dance.

Perhaps I was not given the chance to say everything I wanted to say, and I could not always control my image in this organization’s mirror. But I seized every opportunity to say that I love, that I forgave, that I embraced, and that I moved on, even when it was not in my power to move on. And I was honest when I said I would leave.

Thank you to City of Asylum for granting me my second chance to live.
And I will leave now the way one leaves a home one has lived in for a whole lifetime: quietly, with a full heart, carrying with me all the keys that no longer open doors, but will remain heavy with love and memories.

Best wishes. with love.

Anouar.