I saw this post on LinkedIn and asked the author Lila Tamea for permission to share it on my blog. Her message is spot on and resonates with me and many others with a conscience and a moral compass.

I, too, have no time for those colleagues who call themselves anti-racist or who claim to champion inclusion because if you “can’t acknowledge the racism and Islamophobia at the core of the Gaza genocide and the discourse enabling it, then you are neither anti-racist nor inclusive.”

I must admit that even though I no longer “engage with individuals or organizations (namely those who boast about their inclusive values) that fail to act, remain indifferent, or refuse to take a stand,” I still confront and challenge them selectively. That’s the least I can do. God knows they, the victims of genocide, and the truth deserve that.

You can follow Lila on Instagram and/or LinkedIn.

Peace, MAA

LinkedIn, it’s been a while.

This post is going to be frank—unreservedly so.

Some of you will remember when I used to be active here; angry, frustrated, desperately trying to get the attention of colleagues and connections who seemed oblivious to what was unfolding in Gxza. I chose this platform deliberately. Not Instagram. Not Twitter.

Here, because I wanted to disrupt the comfort zones, to confront people with truths they wouldn’t see on TV or their carefully curated algorithms.

I wanted to voice what others tried to suppress—the uncomfortable realities that don’t make their way into polite conversation. I wanted connections to see the toll this was taking on their colleagues—people like me—who have had to bite their tongues in an act of self-preservation, just to survive in these spaces.

Then I stepped away, I took a break to focus on my PhD and my projects. In that time, I reflected. And I realised painfully, my anger here wasn’t changing anything. The same people I wanted to reach remained unmoved. Their silence was deafening.

So why write this now? Because these last 15 months have irrevocably changed me. They’ve shifted how I see the world, my colleagues, academia, EDI spaces, and even this platform.

I’ll say it plainly: I am no longer interested.

I no longer have the patience to give my time to EDI events or working groups chaired by people who refuse to speak out on the P@lestine cause. I can’t see people the same. I can’t attend work socials or events with people unmoved by the abuses they have witnessed, by the endless corpses they see on their screen.

I have learned my place.

For people of colour—especially Muslims—who’ve spent any time in EDI spaces, the superficiality of it all is nothing new. But nothing has hit harder than seeing these same groups, organisations, and networks utterly fail to address the reality of the last year. Their inaction is betrayal.

This might not be the most “professional” thing to say on LinkedIn, but I’m saying it because I know I’m not alone.

If you call yourself an anti-racist or champion inclusion, but you can’t acknowledge the racism and Islamophobia at the core of the Gxza genocide and the discourse enabling it, then you are neither anti-racist nor inclusive.

To those who understand—who have spoken out, who continue to resist; to those even who at least feel and express discomfort in their silence— we see you. We know it isn’t that simple or easy.

But the truth is, it no longer feels right to engage with individuals or organisations (namely those who boast about their inclusive values) that fail to act, remain indifferent, or refuse to take a stand.

Lila Tamea