Writing Entries from the Taaleem Award 2017

Winning Entries from the

Taaleem Award 2017 www.taaleem.ae

Journeys

Taaleem Award

Journeys

Note to readers: please be aware that these winning stories have not been edited.

Published in 2017 for the LitFest PO Box 24506 Dubai, UAE Tel: 00971 4 355 9844 Approved by the National Media Council UAE: 199125 Printed by Jamalon FZ - LLC All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.

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Introduction The Emirates Airline Festival of Literature aims every year to showcase students’ talents in the field of writing. In 2017 the main theme is ‘Journeys’ and it has made a huge impact on the range of participation from the students for the Taaleem Award.

Some focus on fascinating physical journeys while many others explore inner journeys taking place deep inside the human soul, alongside the journey of life.

Every year, the Taaleem Award allows these talented students to demonstrate their poetic ability, creativity and depth of imagination, and we would like to thank Taaleem for their ongoing support.

Rosamund Marshall, the CEO of Taaleem, says: ‘The importance of this Poetry Award goes beyond one student, school, organisation or emirate. It is an open invitation to all the young creative minds to come forward and be heard. Poetry is a natural component of literature and culture in the UAE and is woven into its rich heritage.’

We also mustn’t forget teachers’ efforts to highlight students’ creativity in this field, and the continued support that they, along with parents, give to the participating students.

I would like to thank everyone who entered and helped to make this award so successful, and those who have supported it from the beginning.

I want to extend heartfelt gratitude to our judges, Frank Dullaghan and Joan ScottMinter, for their time, care and insight in choosing the winners from such a powerful collection of poems. We appreciate their dedication in encouraging our young poets.

Now I can ask you to flip the page and enjoy reading the beautiful poems from a young generation that carries within them a bright future.

Eman Al Hammadi Competitions Manager & Arabic Education Relationship Officer

Contents 11 and under The journey of the blank paper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 08 Demilade Ogundele

Journey from Home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Maria Payne

Drowning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Caitlyn Bromham

12 -14 Journey of Femininity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Zamiya Akbar

Journeys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Jessica Hughes

The Journey of a Lifetime . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Jonathan John Thomas

15 -17 My Journey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 Kshama Masood

Journey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Aisha Gharsaa

Felonious Relocation - The Memories of a Refugee . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Emma Robertson

18 - 25 Journeys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Nicolle Rotilli Serra

Riding with Friends . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Rose Mary John

Journeys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Ayesha Alshared

11 & under Judge’s Overview I love reading the poems of this age group. The poets are usually less self-conscious and the language is often simpler, and better, for this, and the images fresher. There is the usual problem though with rhymes dictating the sense of the poem and the writing often making little sense as the rhymes take over. More imagination and imagery that is particular and detailed will always win out over lots of rhymes. There is also a major disadvantage within this age group: some poets can be as young as 6 years old whilst others may be close to 12 – almost twice the age. There were some lovely poems by what were obviously younger writers. Within the age group, however, they are very unlikely to win. But they should keep writing. Their day will come. And I read them with joy. I should note that I do not receive the names or ages of the children when I judge the poems and do not, therefore, take possible age into account.

As in previous years, there are still too many poems that are copied, either in whole or in part, from poems published on the net. Poems submitted to this competition should be the work of the child who sent it in and teachers need to be more vigilant in this regard. Poems that are obviously too advanced in their diction and syntax to be the work of a child should be questioned. I check poems as best I can and all such poems are eliminated from the competition.

We received 541 poems in this age range. The competition just keeps growing, and I long-listed 34 poems from which to choose the winners.

Frank Dullaghan December 2016

11 and under

The journey of the blank paper Demilade Ogundele, GEMS Wellington International School, 9 I sit there staring into space, Clueless about what to write The paper looks as if I haven’t touched it yet.

As if my brain no longer lived in my head Suddenly I feel encouraged and pick up the pen Ready to write the best sentence ever written!

I put the pen onto the paper and…NOTHING! Suddenly I realize it is 1:00 o’clock Finally finished but I flunk back on to the chair As I realized I started at 12:59.

I start to get frustrated, I want to rip up the paper to smithereens And throw it in the bin, But I suddenly start to get an idea!

Finally, an idea at last!

So I began my writing, My pen danced on the paper I get less frustrated Then I run out of ideas!

I knew that moment wouldn’t last long.

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I only wrote the title Ugh! This is so frustrating!

I’m never going to get this work finished in time!

It’s like I’m on a never ending journey!

Soon after that I get distracted I start fiddling with toys Then I spin round and round in my chair Now I really need to think I have barely written one word.

After that I continue staring into space.

At that moment a brilliant idea popped right into my head!

I quickly write it down.

I suddenly realize I have been writing all along.

This journey wasn’t so frustrating after all!

This is a poem about writing. Or rather, it is a poem about not being able to write, something we all know about – ‘The paper looks as if I haven’t touched it yet. As if my brain no longer lived in my head’. I love the idea of this poem. The poet becomes increasingly frustrated with writing a poem about Journeys but then realises that the process of trying to write is itself a journey and that the poem has, in fact, been written.

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Journey from Home Maria Payne, Jebel Ali School, 10 Leaving London during the war, I took one last look at what was left of my door.

On the ground fragments of bombed houses lay, There was an ocean of rubble and bricks that day.

Children like me were sent here for safety, We didn’t know if we would ever be happy.

Away from my family, how will I survive?

But I’ll tell you my story on the way, shall I? Going through my head were all my worst fears, And down my cheeks ran wet, salty tears.

I hoped that this chapter wouldn’t last forever, And I prayed our family would soon be together.

As I reluctantly stepped onto the train, I found more children waving goodbye in pain.

A single leather strap cut into my palm, But the photos in the case would bring me some calm.

Despite the torture, I tried not to cry, And the sights were beautiful, especially the sky.

Lush green valleys ventured out into the distance, I felt I was the only person in existence.

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I feared my journey was coming to an end, And there were questions; would I even have a friend?

Would my stepmother be mean, or let me sleep inside?

Would I have to do chores? Or would she leave me behind?

All of my troubles still linger in my head, Even now as I’m sat up in my strange bed.

Fond memories of family drift over and beyond, But the strength of our love would still hold our bond.

There was much coverage in the media during the year of World War II. Part of this story was the evacuation of children from London and other major cities in the UK to the countryside to save them from aerial bombings.

Many children grew up in the country living with foster parents and did not see their real parents until the war was over. The poem tells this story from such a child’s point of view. It is a rhyming poem and is an example of how rhymes can be used to good effect.

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Drowning Caitlyn Bromham, Uptown School, 9 You swim out to the ocean

where you shouldn’t be.

The waves hit you further

where you kick and scream.

It’s like you’re in a nightmare

and you can’t get out of this dream.

Speed boats whoosh beside you

and the outside sun burns.

They told you not to go out there

but you didn’t like to learn.

Your head starts to hurt,

everything starts to turn,

But now you are going down

about to drown.

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As the title says, this is a poem about drowning, about swimming too far out into the sea. It is simply told but well controlled and nicely laid out on the page. It’s also good advice.

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12-14 Judge’s Overview This year’s theme is ‘Journeys’ and the poems submitted contained many variations on this theme – emigrating to Dubai, Dubai’s journey of development, the journey of life, as well as trips, dreams, days at school, and internal journeys into the self.

As mentioned in the report on the 11 and under age group, there are still too many poems being copied straight from the net. Stop it. Please.

All poems were read at least once. Those long-listed and eventually shortlisted were read many times. The competition was tight with 27 poems long-listed out of 265 poems in total. All of the long-listed poems were good, but the winning poems stood out because of their maturity, sharpness of images and willingness to take risks.

Frank Dullaghan December 2016

12 - 14

Journey of Femininity Zamiya Akbar, Greenwood International School, 13 he smirks as he claws into my skin the crimson sun bleeds along with me he tells me i am weak

a woman is what i am and he says a woman is broken glass and bad poetry he tells me i am nothing but a half moon made to be where i do not deserve to be seen i am two-dimensional; only half whole without the bruising chains of patriarchy

he tells me i’m prettier when my opinions are stuffed in my mouth that when i speak i morph into the thorns of a rose rather than the silky petals he tells me i am a paper doll made to be little and pretty and voiceless for men to use and pull apart whenever they want to be crumpled and to collapse into the jagged teeth of the people who treat me as if i am not strong enough to hold myself up

(he is society and i am the woman oppressed by his monstrosity)

listen to me you have ripped me to pieces and smiled in the process my wings are broken but i still fight to fly i am a tree that was engulfed in smoke and hissing fire but still breathes and blooms and gives life

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i am a woman and i will persevere even when you try to break every bone of assurance i have in my body watch me smolder and shiver from afar you cannot touch me for i am the lingering taste of metal and faraway night stars you cannot crush me no matter how much your hands ache with me in your palms

for i have realized in my journey of femininity that i am mine and mine alone before i can even come close to giving you one of the galaxies that blaze in my veins i am as gentle as warm rising suns

but i matter so much you’d never survive without my glow

This is an unabashed feminist poem, very modern and very mature in its presentation, language and imagery. This poem stood out within this age group. It is a protest against patriarchy that seems very relevant as the world plunged to the right at the end of 2016. This is great writing – ‘he tells me i’m prettier when my opinions are stuffed in my mouth/that when i speak i morph into the thorns of a rose rather than the silky petals/he tells me i am a paper doll’.

Enjoy reading it. I did.

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Journeys Jessica Hughes, Dubai International Academy, 14 It used to be peaceful and still, But out of the blue you swept right through, And tumbled me like a wave would.

I choked and I spluttered but I didn’t see, The beauty underneath, And a heart the size of the ocean.

You seemed shallow and transparent, But I soon discovered your soul was deep enough to drown in.

Your colours were rich, Ever-changing as the wind, And they would sometimes confuse and bewilder me.

See I soon realized, You were the ocean to my sky, And I am so glad your current came and swept me.

It was great until then but a dark cloud came arise, There was divorce and abuse in both of our lives.

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That cloud became a storm, The storm became a hurricane.

It was a sickening time with fear and extreme pain.

But that cloud didn’t know that we became stronger, And now all that remains is light rain.

Let’s hope it will be peaceful and still.

This is a love poem. It is so easy to get a love poem wrong, to be sentimental and over-sweet. Like the other prize-winning poems, it’s taken on a risky subject. However, the exuberance of the language and the way the emotional weight is carried in the images made this poem stand out – ‘But out of the blue you swept right through, /And tumbled me like a wave would’. Wonderful!

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The Journey of a Lifetime Johnathan John Thomas, Our Own High School, 12 Past the immigration and the baggage check, Waiting at the gate, rubbing my neck.

Back to Dubai, to the hot sunny weather, On a plane flight, a journey like any other.

I hear a loud ding, followed by my flight’s call, Not a bad flight, I hope, overall.

Preparing for the long journey, anxious to come home, To a loving family, to a scorching biome.

Past a few hours, the long wait continues, A sluggish journey, not doubting we won’t reach our venue.

Before landing we noticed an extra turn, That can’t be good, I say as my stomach churns.

As the flight lands we looked from eye to eye, We knew we were on a hunk of metal, literally falling from the sky.

As the plane came to a stand we got up to rush for our lives, Panic filling the cabin, along with smoke like stabbing knives.

But somehow during this trauma I didn’t hear even a cry.

Some of my senses switched off, some of them on standby.

As I ran through the plane, my only motive was to get them out, HE never let me think that I might not make it, not even a doubt.

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All I could hear was ‘Move, Move, Move’ Of the crew, for now their bravery had been proved.

We rushed out of the plane, with wings like a bird, God was with us on August the third.

As we ran together, we could hear the loud boom, I could not believe I was in that plane of doom.

A tribute I give to all those firefighters Who rescued us from that huge burning lighter.

And a salute to the one who passed away for the passengers of EK521 that day.

That journey was one I’ll never forget, This journey of a lifetime will stay in my mind, ever set.

This poem tells the story, from a first-person point of view, of the crash landing in August 2016 of Flight EK521 from India at Dubai airport. The subject matter was well-handled and the poem was structured in rhyming quatrains. Often the use of rhyme lends itself to forced syntax, but in this poem the rhymes worked well. By the way, none of the 300 passengers were killed – as the poet says ‘God was with us on August the third’. Unfortunately, one of the fire fighters did lose his life.

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15 – 17 & 18 - 25 Judge’s Overview Wow! What a year this has been with a record breaking number of entries which made judging very difficult and time consuming. The theme of journeys provoked a great many different ideas, approaches and styles, with many reflecting the crises currently affecting young people around the world. Sadly, once again, too many poems had to be eliminated through lack of care and attention or a disregard for the rules.

Those poems which did make the shortlist demonstrated imagination, intelligence, courage, and a true poetic ability. They are not all perfect but they are memorable, and create a strong emotional and intellectual response. It is always a great pleasure to see such talent – thank you to those students who made the time and effort to produce much good work.

Thank you once again to Taaleem for their sponsorship, to schools and parents for their support and encouragement, and to all our budding poets.

Joan Scott-Minter December 2016

15 - 17

My Journey Kshama Masood, GEMS Modern Academy Dubai, 15 “Hey little girl where are you going?” asked her mother.

“Hey little girl what are you doing?” asked her father.

“Hey little girl who do you think you are?” asked society.

“I’m going on my journey.” she said to her mother.

“I’m going to find my own way.” she said to her father.

“I am one amongst many.”

“I am a bird flying against the wind.”

“I am an inferno that will burn through you.”

“I am a force you cannot control.” she warned society.

“Be careful little girl.” advised her mother.

“Watch your feet little girl.” advised her father.

“You will never reach there.”

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taunted society.

“You can’t stop me.” she said, her voice still strong.

“I will do it.” her voice now quivering.

“Please let me do it.” her voice now small.

“Why can’t I do it?” her voice now afraid.

“Take my hand little girl, we’ll do it together.”

I say to the little girl in my head.

Kshama has demonstrated perfectly the effectiveness of a very simply structured poem to deliver a very complex theme: how adults can restrain their child, stifle ambition and make it afraid. The adults/child voices and the repetition work convincingly, with optimism and certainty turning to fear and loss of confidence. The little girl’s warning to society is full of strong metaphors making an excellent contrast with the timid voice in the penultimate three stanzas as the adults’ negative put-downs seem to have defeated her. The final stanza is unexpected and joyous. Deceptively simple, this is the work of a clever and confident poet. Thank you Kshama.

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JOURNEY Aisha Gharsaa, Maplewood International School, 16

You’re invited, Come watch this journey savagely gut me.

See it crush my bones into dust, And blow the ashes to make an ardent wish.

Strike my jaw with iron, And string my teeth together for a necklace.

Carve into my chest, And craft my heart into a celebration ornament.

I hope to see you at my destination, Before time has eroded me, And after love has sculpted me.

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This is another simply structured poem with the poet talking directly to someone - the reader or a particular person? We don’t know. The invitation in the first line is direct and brusque. What we are being invited to is a mystery so we must read on - only to be faced with a series of brutal and visceral images. The rhythm strikes as hard as the images, relentless it seems until the final stanza explains. But the mystery of who is being addressed remains and ‘after love has sculpted me’ comes as a complete surprise.

Aisha has wasted no words here. It is a very well executed response to the theme. Well done Aisha.

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Felonious Relocation The Memories Of a Refugee Emma Robertson, Dubai College, 15 I sit, back stiff, toes curled Brain stiff, thoughts curled Coiled and twirled and writhing inside the seat beneath, morphing into it until I am sitting on but a mountain of my thoughts Tethered across my lap by a seatbelt To keep me safe and sat, paralysed Upon my guilt It’s alright, comfort is not part of my language anymore My coat reminds me of my soul Heavy Stained Foreign Wrinkles form as it is forced to cinch beneath the belt The fabric hills fold and cast shadows on the valleys, fashioning a landscape so familiar So similar To the ones I have passed before I do not understand all the cultures I pass The lights of the towns do not make sounds, but boy do I wish they did Lit up ornaments on Christmas trees would scream Hopefully loud enough to drown out my illegality Drown out all the predetermined fallacies Of my people, told by yours Or of course, with my luck, they would rather illuminate me

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As I gasp out of horror, the screams of the light would fill my stomach And echo inside of me like a broken horn Never stopping, ever screaming Forever travelling but ceaselessly false Glimpses of the lights of civilization slip through the slats of the blind eyes that are turned towards me The further I travel, the more sightless they become Gossiped about, but even my shadows no longer exist Safety takes too long.

My fingers brush the frayed belt, but that too, is temporary.

Emma has created an ambitious and rather enigmatic poem to tell the refugee’s story. The part rhyme, varying line length and rhythm, the pauses, and single lines all contribute to the idea of an uncomfortable journey and relocation, and insecurity of identity. There are some clever and intriguing metaphors: her coat with ‘the fabric hills fold and cast shadows....’ and the hard hitting political message: ‘drown out all the predetermined fallacies of my people, told by yours’. Although it needs a little more tightening in places and elimination of errors, this poem is worthy of its place among the winners.

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18 - 25

Journeys Nicolle Rotilli Serra, GEMS Wellington International School, 18 there sits a pile of books, tall and stiff smelling of dust and stars. she lives in them. she travels within the pages, exploring; an odyssey that takes years and no time at all. she travels miles, sitting in a chair, nose buried in a book. she rescues damsels, slays dragons, solves the riddle. she destroys planets, crosses universes, finds new life she lives over and over, leaves pieces of her soul behind every time one ends. with every book she grows, she transforms. when her quest is over she uses the pile to step up to reach for her dreams, and touches the sky.

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I love the extended metaphor of Nicolle’s poem: that books ‘smelling of dust and stars’ can take us on very special and unique journeys ‘an odyssey that takes years and no time at all’ Nicolle has structured it well the longer first stanza mirroring the length of a potentially never-ending journey and the innumerable experiences and adventures to be had. The second stanza ‘she lives over and over’ recognises the emotional and transformational effect of books. Finally, there is the unexpected and perfect ending highlighting the positive and energising result of reading. This is an excellent example of how an apparently simple poem can be the most profound.

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Riding with Friends Rose Mary John, Phoenix Financial Training Institute, 18 Convertible, three people, landscape, Love, Unplanned trip to a must-see destination.

Rental car with three drivers; Many pit stops will hear the laughter they leave behind.

--“Volume down, Rebecca!”

Droopy eyes and jet lag sums up anger.

The other two knew; Sandra turned the Volume up.

--Hotel Rooms bloomed with her lavender bliss.

Anne wore floral print; Sandra borrowed the two others’ things; Rebecca adorned a floral crown scented lavender.

--Party by the beach; Sunset and Camp fire with strangers.

Breezy winds heard Rebecca’s favourite rhythm, And the music drew them closer to eternity.

--A jump from a hill in the forest; Welcoming waters below and the three shouts of joy.

Echoed in the nature’s lap, Rebecca’s wishes slowly keeps getting fulfilled.

--High Heels, Little Black Dresses and Make-up; Loud music in the Club, Gave the three an adrenaline rush.

5 O’ Clock meant the next day.

---

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Convertible, two people, Landscape, Love and Nostalgia, Unplanned trip to ‘The Destination’ that could not cure.

Rental Car with two drivers; Many pit stops will feel the silence they leave behind.

--Rebecca’s wishes had all been fulfilled.

Her rhythm is still the favourite of the breezy winds, Her head had adorned the floral crown scented lavender; When she was lying in the coffin.

Riding with Friends takes the reader on a road trip with the three girls. It sounds great fun and the relationship between them looks solid. In the second stanza there is a subtle hint of something inexplicable and then the final two stanzas reveal the bitter-sweet truth behind the journey.

Despite some errors, Rose Mary captures the essence of this journey which we can all recognise. I particularly liked ‘the music drew them closer to eternity’ and ‘shouts of joy echoed in nature’s lap’. I also liked the change of ‘laughter’ to ‘silence’ in ‘many pit stops will hear the laughter they leave behind’. Overall I felt involved in the experience and the ending evoked an empathic response.

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Journeys Ayesha Alshared, American University of Sharjah, 22 I want to buy a farm in Ireland. Somewhere so cold I can see my breath in front of me like the mist in the Sahara’s late December dawn.

I want to sip a pint of gahwa1 as I look unto shifting dunes of snow like the grand land of Liwa, except white and gray and slush for sand.

I want to be a nomad of weather, searching for rain, searching for snow, searching for the cool cool chilly khamsin.

I want a sky that would cry for me, not smoldering in anger and dry-eyed.

I want her comforting teardrops embracing me, not her dry exhales and chide.

Let it be noted, however, that when I was in 5 degrees weather (the coldest my body has seen) I added a layer of clothes each morning— another shirt, another sweater, and even another pair of jeans! Thinking of it, my body aches …

Yes, I miss the cold like the desert misses the rain.

But when I’m cold— damn it am I in pain!

If I bought a farm in Ireland ...

1

Arabic coffee

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Ayesha’s opening sentence immediately attracts attention and interest: why buy a farm in Ireland? ‘I want’ is repeated several times giving the poet’s reasons for desiring cold weather in these metaphors: ‘I want to be a nomad of weather’; ‘I want a sky that would cry for me’; ‘I want her comforting tear drops’ as opposed to the heat of Dubai, but remembering being cold perhaps changes the desire. The declarative statement at the beginning now changes: ‘If I bought a farm...’

Despite some loss of structure in the middle, I enjoyed this poem for its refreshingly different subject matter and tone.

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Frank Dullaghan lives in Dubai. He holds an MA with Distinction in Writing from the University of South Wales. Whilst in the UK he co-founded the Essex Poetry Festival and edited Seam Poetry Magazine. He has published three poetry collections (On the Back of the Wind, 2008, Enough Light to See the Dark, 2012, and The Same Roads Back, 2014) from Cinnamon Press in the UK, and two haiku collections. Frank has run workshops in poetry and short story writing in schools, university and for various literary and writing groups. His screenplay Melody featured in the best short films Dubai 48 hour Film competition 2012 and won the audience award in the Mumbai Women’s International Film Festival 2013. He has also written short stage plays which have been performed in Dubai. In 2014, he provided the final English poetic translations (from literal translations) for His Highness Sheikh Mohammed’s book, Flashes of Verse.

Joan Scott-Minter came to Dubai in 1989 as a full-time teacher and, although she retired in 2000, she has continuously been involved in children’s education and children’s literature as a teacher, writer, mentor and editor. Her first musical Nagwaja, published by Maverick Musicals in Australia, has been performed in many countries including Dubai. Joan has been involved with the Emirates Airline Festival of Literature since its inception and remains enthusiastically committed.

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