Ink smears, as thoughts sometimes do. ~Terri Guillemets

Some days so many words rush to my head,

But I don't know how to say them
So I write them instead


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Railway


Set the scene.
You are a Cambodian family living in a slum.
You already hardly have anything, and make as much as 20 cents from your job.
You would think, that it would be hard for people to take more from you.
You're wrong.
The government has ordered everyone living in your slum to ship out. As they
want to build where you live. They want to develop over the only shelter you have.
Group by group they are going to send all of you to a piece of land, with
No clean water.
No electricity.
And one toilet.
They give you little money, to build a house there.
How caring.
How bloody lovely that they choose to develop in the poorest part of that town.
Where you hardly have anything to start off with anyway.
What now?
I am sure it is nice for you to know that you have such a nice government looking out for you.
Sending you to a place, that is even worse then the one you already live in.
SCENE.

There is no justice in that. Nothing about that is fair.
And yet, that is their life.




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