These last couple days have been surreal to me.
I had hoped that eventually I bounce back to some version of normality that would allow me to cope and adjust to the injustice that the world I live in seem to revel in.
I was wrong.
The rhetoric has been said, directly or indirectly, by many. It has been repeated by many, shown in movies by different characters, written in stories, drawn in comes and the reality of it all still hits true.
“The world is broken.”
As of this morning, I woke to the news that 5 police officers had been killed by armed shooters in the middle of what was supposed to be a peaceful protest. I pictured it in my head as husbands/sons/fathers leaving their houses to assist in the protest of a movement, only for the reality of the job to set in as they lay bleeding in the dark because someone, somewhere found their organisation guilty of something and decided they’d pay the price. It’s been hours since then but we mourn.
In the space of three days, 3 black men have been killed under questionable circumstances which re-directed everyone back to the reality that out there, there are numerous people who are, by default, biased against us because of the colour of our skin. Like a phone reminder so we don’t forget that we are not generally liked by the world. As almost expected, we rose up in our droves and protested, social media, physically, at the sights that we had been forced to replay over and over again, burning the images of the men bleeding out into our brain. The deaths feel too close to home. SO we mourn.
Let’s not even forget the Nigerian kill in Italy for defending his wife against a racist. (<<It’s a link… Go on and click)
In just a week, the world watched as Baghdad streamed the atrocity committed at the end of their fast. Bodies strewn around like confetti as we had to realise, once again, that life is fleeting. Families torn apart at the whims of others because they want to get an ideal across that is contrary to what is current. So the hate spreads, deeply ingrained into the hearts of man as tears roll down the faces of the afflicted. The rhetoric that a specific religion was responsible for heinous crimes, proven once more to be untrue. Our hearts fall heavily, as we mourn.
These last couple days have been surreal, so to speak.
I had hoped that eventually I return back to some version of sanity that would allow me to cope and adjust to the injustice that the world I live in seem to revel in.
I was mistaken.
As the years went by, realisation struck me in the meanest of ways, opening my eyes to notice that we, as a species, are becoming more and more divided, pulling away from one another because we want to “take our stuff back”. Our “countries”. Our “lands”. Our “money”. Our this and that, so we fight to break off in a world where we should be drawing together to fight off the evils in the darkness.
The internet is rolling as I speak, mud-slinging and tearing at each-other’s throat as the blame game is played extensively. It is always someone’s fault at the end of the day.
United we stand. Divided we fall.
I guess we’re still falling.