From Keti Koti to Dia di Himno i Bandera

From Keti Koti to Dia di Himno i Bandera

July 2, 2026

July 2 is the day we celebrate Curaçao's national anthem and flag. Some people distort its meaning by turning it into nothing more than Flag Day. By using the word distort, I am also making a subtle reference to the recent slip of the Speaker of Parliament, who accidentally said "rape" instead of "resilience."

This year I experience the day in a special way. Not only because our flag—half the size of a football field—was displayed before the entire world during the Blue Wave's World Cup matches, but also because I am staying on another island. Here, I attended Keti Koti. As far as I know, just as in Curaçao, this is only the third or fourth year that people have consciously commemorated it.

Although it is essential to reflect on this history, it does not make me happy. To me, it feels somewhat like looking back on a rape. At the same time, it is also a celebration of resilience, because despite that painful past, progress has been made. Reaching the FIFA World Cup as the smallest country ever is one example. Yet that achievement should not obscure the fact that much remains wrong—not only in the relationship with the former colonial power, but also among ourselves. Nos mes ta bringando otro.

Although I am not experiencing it firsthand today, I can imagine that Dia di Himno i Bandera feels different this year. Over the past weeks, sport has united the people under their own flag in a way rarely seen before.

Even so, I am left with mixed feelings. Not only for the reasons I have already mentioned, but also because the Venezuelan people and their flag are now literally buried beneath the rubble following one of the most devastating earthquakes of the past century.

Miguel Goede