This piece began with a single sentence by Chilean artist and folk singer Violeta Parra:
“Los hambrientos piden pan, plomo les da la milicia.”
“The hungry ask for bread, but the militia gives them bullets.”
I chose to inscribe this line in Arabic calligraphy, its letters woven together like a relentless echo.
But this is not just a reflection on the past; it is Gaza today.
Since the beginning of the genocide , hundreds of Palestinians have been killed while trying to collect food. So-called “humanitarian aid points” have become ambush zones—military forces lure starving civilians into open spaces and then target them. These are not relief stations; they are execution grounds.
This work bridges two parallel realities: the cultural memory of resistance in Latin America, and the ongoing reality in Gaza, where bread continues to be met with bullets.
I created this piece during my visit to Chile, while working in the courtyard of the Violeta Parra Museum in Santiago. The museum, dedicated to Parra’s life and legacy, was set on fire in 2020 during waves of protests against inequality and state violence. When I visited, traces of that fire still scarred the walls marks left by a society that refused to stay silent.
