The history of the world is often told out loud, almost always by those who had the privilege of holding the pen. And there is nothing wrong with knowing these grand narratives. The danger arises when they become the only stories we hear.

When we spend our lives consuming only dominant narratives—the books everyone reads, the stories always told from the same point of view—our map of the world shrinks. We begin to believe that our bubble is the entire reality. And it is exactly there, in the comfort of what is familiar, that we run a silent risk.

By accepting a single version of the world as the absolute truth, we risk committing one of the greatest human flaws: failing to see the pain, complexity, and humanity of others. That is how, so often, we end up positioning ourselves on the wrong side of history. Not out of malice, but out of sheer ignorance. Out of a lack of listening.

At KALAM Editora, we think a lot about this. We feel that giving space to voices that usually remain on the margins is not just an editorial choice, but an ethical necessity. We need to seek out the narratives of those who do not usually hold the microphone.

Reading an author who comes from a reality completely different from our own—from another territory, another culture, or an experience that society often silences—is a profound exercise in humility. It is accepting that we do not know everything and that we have much to learn from the pain and joy of those who walk other paths.

Literature is, perhaps, the safest bridge to cross this ignorance. When we read the other, we stop seeing them as a stereotype and start seeing them as an equal. And this is, ultimately, the only way to ensure that we are walking on the right side: the side of listening, dialogue and empathy.