To the Editor:
There is something about Canadian culture that sees emergencies as moments that last a couple weeks, but the reality is that without the right measures, an emergency state can become a permanent state. We are seeing this with the drought crisis in the horn of Africa right now as millions face severe starvation and tens of thousands already dead.
As the global audience witnesses an entire region being preyed on by truly a more permanent state of natural disaster, we have a choice. We have a choice to see this as an opportunity or as a horror. If we see this as a horror, we will remain in shock and turn our faces. But if we see this is an opportunity, we can remain rightfully responsible, and communicate hope with our words and with our hands. We can intervene.
The truth is the only thing that separates us from these families living in an extreme drought is where we were born. Despite what you might tell yourself, they see the same moon and wake up to the same sun; they have dreams, fears, and stories; they did nothing to deserve this atrocity.
Just for a moment, imagine with me, that it is you and those terrifying pictures you see in your newspaper, those are your kids. Those are your kids who you cannot feed and who lay on your back and those are your kids friends who drop dead at your feet. You walk for miles in desperation, you are forced to leave children behind, your daughters face the danger of rape and assault, and yet you have to keep on walking. The wrenching in your heart that you feel as you read these words; that is compassion.
Without doubt, our Western culture finds the idea of extreme famine overwhelming. We have no point of reference for what it means to truly be in lack. Our issues border more on the side of obesity, than starvation. So we turn the page, we change the channel, we think about our favourite TV show. As for the millions who face death today, that image quickly becomes blurry.
Allow this to be an opportunity more than a horror. Even if you simply pause to hear their story and look at their faces, give these people the dignity of being heard. Give them the chance to dream again.
Ashley Beaudin, Smithville, ON.
