Zoals onze trouwe volgers weten is YES het gehele schooljaar intensief bezig met onze Empowerment projecten. Onze jongeren maken moedige stappen en zijn de sterren van de toekomst van Suriname. Ik
wil graag een gedicht met jullie delen dat geschreven is door een van onze leerlingen met
een buitengewoon talent voor de dichtkunst. Mocht je ook onder de indruk zijn van
dit jonge talent, dan zou het mooi zijn om haar te versterken door een comment achter te laten. 
Een warme brasa uit Suriname,
Apana van Leeuwaarde

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“to the girl who survived”

i know you.
i know how you curl into yourself when no one is looking.
how you bite your tongue until it bleeds,
because some pains are safer when they stay hidden.

i know how you carry it
the night that never ended.
the hands that never asked.
the silence you were forced to swallow.

i know the shame that isn’t yours but feels welded to your bones.
i know the nights you wanted to tear your skin off,
just to escape the memory of being touched without kindness.

i know the guilt.
i know the fury.
i know the moments when you hated your own body
for betraying you,
for surviving.

i know the way you thought healing meant forgetting,
and how cruel it felt when you couldn’t.

but listen.
listen.

healing isn’t forgetting.
healing is remembering
and still choosing to live.

healing is waking up on the worst days
and saying,
“i will stay.”
even when every part of you wants to disappear.

healing is crying so hard your ribs ache,
and still reaching for the next breath.
the next step.
the next hour.

you are not broken beyond repair.
you never were.

you are a wound
that chose to become a scar.

you are a scar
that chose to become a story.

you are a story
still being written
in hands trembling,
but unafraid.

they hurt you.
but they did not end you.

you are still here.

and you are
even now, even broken, even aching
beautiful.

not because you are untouched.
but because you touched the fire
and you lived.

and you still
choose
to love the ash-covered girl in the mirror.

and that
is the bravest thing in the world.

Esperanza T., age 15