Our Top Ten Articles of 2025, as Chosen by You: #8 The House of Termites by Ubah Cristina Ali Farah

December 24, 2025 | in News | by Haajar Abu Ismail

Whether displacement is forced or voluntary, there is one prevailing symptom: loss.

Coming in at number eight, “The House of Termites” is a poetic essay from our Winter 2025 issue by Somali-Italian writer Ubah Cristina Ali Farah (tr. Brandon Michael Cleverly Breen) that paradoxically succeeds at being both unique and universal. As she reflects on a life between borders, from Somalia to Italy to Belgium, Ali Farah ponders a question close to all migrants: What does it mean to live in exile?

This work is a treasure trove for the reflective reader. Sure to be bookmarked, there is a goldmine of pensive moments to glean wisdom from. One of many to start us off: “Migrating means disappearing into yourself, dying and being reborn, running the risk of becoming invisible, or rather, of being seen in another way.”

Whether displacement is forced or voluntary, there is one prevailing symptom: loss. There is a constant undercurrent of disconnection from the physical space one inhabits and their distant home. Ali Farah draws on the wisdom of James Baldwin to describe this condition:

My obsession had always been that of reimagining Mogadishu, my “Garden of Eden,” even if it was anything but a terrestrial paradise. “Maybe life only offers the possibility of remembering the garden or forgetting it,” Baldwin writes in Giovanni’s Room. “One thing or the other: you need strength to remember, you need another kind of strength to forget, and you need to be a hero to do both things together.”

The migrant’s choice outlined here is a bitter one; the deeper they assimilate, the more they forget their origin. Alternatively, to remember cements the condition of exile. There is no shame in either, simply an understanding that both incur loss.

Ali Farah offers several priceless takeaways of her attempt to stay connected to Somalia. Among them is the recognition that ‘remembering’ is how to bridge the gap home when the distance can’t be closed. What is there to do but treasure manifestations of the place being reached? Traditional cuisine, dress, music, histories and stories—this engagement is a precious act that tethers one to their roots, and as Ali Farah rightly credits, an act of love.

Love, like the act of writing for stateless people, is the torment of always beginning again from zero, the pain linked to travelling, a challenge to brutality and oblivion, an ethical duty to protect those precious things that we conserve in our memory.

This piece is a must for anyone positioned across cultures or reckoning with life in exile. Moreover, even the most particular of readers will laud Ali Farah’s expertly synthesized blend of personal experience, borrowed wisdom, and critical reflection that tackles an emblematic theme of the current age: belonging.

To follow along, watch out for tomorrow’s big reveal, number seven!