• Aude

We are the other


On the 23rd of June, I found shelter against the flood inside a bar. The woman next to me asked me if I had voted. I told her I went to the polling station with my card to find my name crossed out.

I wasn’t elligible to vote for a referendum which had the potential to fuck up my future.

The woman told me she was afraid the Brexiters would win. I’v often been pretty accurate with my political forecast. So I assured her Britain wouldn’t leave the EU. People can’t possibly vote against their own interest and onto a bleak, uncertain future that is going to be even worse, right?

I was dead wrong. I woke up this morning and learned that people can, and will. When you have nothing, or so little, you have nothing to loose. I guess this is how many disempowered Brexiters have felt.

Brexit feels like a troll, a big joke taken too far. I am one for jokes and trolling, but it feels like being in an alternate reality.

The British people have spoken and we must listen. They don’t want us here. Us, meaning non whie people, EU citizens and brown migrants. Intersectionality is always complex, and the Brexit sent a clear message that the majority of people in this country don’t want people like me, EU citizens, in this country. But it’s not like they’re dying to welcome Black and Brown EU citizens either. So we are twice unwanted.

I know realize what a cruel irony all of this is.

As a writer, the creativ