The Return of Anne Frank

Dear Diary,

Today, November 7, 2024, Amsterdam has witnessed something that seems like a nightmare, and it’s hard to understand that this has happened on our streets, in our city.

It pains me to write these words, but I feel that if I don’t, they will linger in my mind for a long time.

This morning, the news started to come in; at first, they were just rumors, but then, like an overflowing river, the reality became evident.

Last night, after a football match ended, several neighbors were attacked, beaten, kicked, simply for being Jewish.

I heard my father say that some shop windows were shattered, as if a time machine had taken us back to 1938, as if the scars on the city’s face hadn’t faded.

An act of deliberate violence, a manifestation of hatred that seemed to have been extinguished but, nonetheless, remains alive, lurking in the darkness.

I overhear my parents’ conversations in whispers, trying to shield me from the truth, but they don’t need to say anything, because fear can be felt in every corner of the house, in every glance they avoid. I know they want to make me feel safe, as if we were protected here, but security feels like a distant memory.

It’s hard for me to understand how someone, in 2024, could bring back these acts of hatred. I naively thought these dark days were part of a distant past, that the world had changed, that we had learned something from our history. Yet here we are, in the same city that once harbored so much hope, facing ghosts that never fully left.

I wish someone, outside these walls, would tell us that everything will be okay, that those who suffer today will find justice, that this hatred will be eradicated, that our community, our friends, and our families will be able to walk freely and safely.

But that promise feels so distant. Is no one listening? Has this city we love so much ceased to be a refuge?

Tonight, before closing my eyes, I think of the families who have had to hide, who now fear stepping outside, who wonder what more the future holds for them.

I wonder if, like me, they also yearn for a day when the world will look at them and accept them as they are, without hatred, without prejudice.

I wonder if there is a corner of the world where we can truly be safe.

Dear Diary, I don’t want to let this fear remain in my heart.

I promise myself that I will remember this night, not only as a nightmare, but as a reminder that we must fight so that this story does not repeat itself.

Because even though it hurts today, I want to believe that one day all of this will change, and until that day comes, I will keep writing here, holding onto my thoughts, so that on that day the world may hear our truth.

With hope, though trembling,

Anne