Palestinian poet and activist Shahd Karaeen: "I've been quiet for many years. At least now I know I'm done with being quiet"

For Shahd Karaeen, the past two years have been marked by stark contrasts: immense grief, as a UK-based Palestinian watching a genocide being perpetrated against her people; and hard-won catharsis, as a poet who has finally found her voice, after years of suffering in silence.

Born and raised in East Jerusalem, Shahd relocated to the UK as a young adult. While she initially found success as an entrepreneur – winning several awards, including High Street Hero, for her fish and chip business in London – it wasn’t until 2023 that she went public with her creative work, taking her poetry from behind closed doors to the stage of a Palestine Solidarity Campaign event, in the days after October 7.

“I felt no fear,” she reflects now. “I felt so confident, and comfortable. From that day on, I did not stop writing and performing. I don’t know what exactly happened, but it just opened a door, of me going on stage constantly. And it felt very healing.”

Shahd has since taken part in over 90 events, raising funds for charities like Medical Aid For Palestinians, Projects In Palestine and Islamic Relief. She’s also set up her own series of fundraiser nights, Peace Is The Song, titled after one of her poems.

Shahd Karaeen

“I wanted to provide a safe place, where no one can touch us,” she says of the events. “Where you can still have freedom of speech, but through poetry and music. I wanted to give a platform to people who had never recited a poem before. Because there’s so many people out there who can make a change, but they don’t really believe in themselves.”

Although she tells me it’s sparked controversy on some occasions, Shahd has decided to include Israeli participants at her events – such as the anti-Zionist Israeli activist Yael Kahn.

“Not all Israeli people are against us,” Shahd says. “There’s actually people who stand with us, and who believe in the cause as much as us. I offered Yael Kahn the platform – some people objected, and other people praised that move. But what’s the point of having a platform if you’re going to carry that division in it? It just doesn’t make sense.

“I don’t need big names,” she continues. “That’s why I say at the events, ‘This is not a talent show.’ It’s about unity.”

Shahd’s work – which includes two collections of poetry, Re-Embroidered and White Shoes – has been deeply shaped by her upbringing as a Palestinian girl in Jerusalem.

“My father was a very well-known public figure, who worked alongside Yasser Arafat, the late president,” she explains. “So for me, it was not only about the challenges of Zionism and the Israeli occupation – it was also the challenge of being the daughter of Ibrahim Karaeen. I was shielded from so much, but yet I was confined. So I always felt lonely, yet surrounded by so many people.”

Her creative streak was evident from a young age, however.

“I used to write all the time, and paint, and draw,” she recalls. “I really felt some power that I just couldn’t unleash at that time, because I was so young. I just felt different.

“There was also beauty in my upbringing,” she adds. “I‘d go into communities with my dad and my mum – we’d go to the village, and see these traditional old Palestinian women with their embroidered dresses. That whole aroma takes me back to childhood – the freshly baked bread, the za’atar, the olive oil… Just sitting on the ground, with the olive trees around you, and the sounds of the pigeons. It’s home. And my soul is there, definitely. I’m very connected to my background, and my upbringing.”

But she’s also thankful for the life she’s found in the UK.

“The UK has given me the opportunity to be who I am,” she states. “And it’s given me the platform to share with all these other cultures. I go into communities, and we learn from each other.. That’s the growth – the understanding. It’s not about changing people, it’s about accepting people.”

In 2024, Shahd also spent time as a writer-in-residence in Co. Cork, with Swerve Magazine.

“I loved it,” she reflects. “I connected to many people, and they looked after me and supported me. They were so generous. Every time I would visit someone, it was like, ‘Here! €20! Give it to your cause!’ You would never get that in London. In London it’s like, ‘Anybody? Five pounds, please…?’”

With the help of that community in Cork, Shahd was able to raise over €700 for Haya Murtaja, a woman in Gaza who she had been talking to online.

“We became friends, speaking everyday,” she says of Haya. “She had two beautiful daughters, and she documented everything in Gaza for me. She’d send me videos, and I’d do live videos with her. I still have all the recordings, and the voice messages.”

Tragically, Haya died from a reported heart attack in April of this year, at the age of just 26.

“Someone got in touch to tell me she was in a coma, in a tent,” Shahd recalls. “They said it was from severe shock and fear. She was protecting her children, and she just dropped. She died after 11 days.

“It was very personal,” she continues. “I felt I had to fight for her, and for the many other innocent mothers and children. I feel like I keep going, because of them.”

As well as addressing the resilience and grief of her people, Shahd’s work has also been informed by her own experiences as a survivor of domestic abuse.

“I survived years of it,” she tells me. “And to escape it, I needed to go back to my creative side. Honestly, if I didn’t have that creativity, I think I would have been dead by now.

“I went through a phase where I didn’t think life was worth living. I’d try to be this perfect woman, running my home, looking after my children, working. And I just had enough. I found shelter in my writing – and I started writing so much that I found some different path through it.”

At the same time that she was starting to immerse herself in her poetry, and raising funds for Palestine, she was simultaneously plotting her escape from that relationship.

“One night, before I went on stage to speak for a free Palestine, I was beaten and punched in the mouth,” she reveals. “I covered the bruise on my mouth with lipstick and thought, ‘How can I fight for freedom, when I still need to free myself?’ From that moment, I vowed to do it – and I did.”

Having explored that remarkable journey in depth in Re-Embroidered, Shahd plans to return with a new project, Re-Embroidered Voices, featuring recordings of 27 women, each reciting one of the poems. She’ll also delve into this chapter of her life in her upcoming ‘psychological thriller-memoir’, Hope: Re-Embroidered.

“I’ve been quiet for many years,” she concludes. “At least now I know I’m done with being quiet.”

• Shahd Karaeen’s poetry collections Re-Embroidered and White Shoes are available to purchase now from lulu.com