Stories and News No. 903
"These are children who, after all, have been hungry for their entire lives, and some will die here in the next twenty-four hours," said Jean Stowell, head of Doctor Without Borders center in Maiduguri, Nigeria, where the hunger is causing the death of hundreds of children a day.
In the few seconds that remained, there, only at that
time, we won.
Hooray! The wicked hunger was defeated.
A miracle? A magic? Divine intervention, maybe?
Or perhaps the fateful good ones’ arrival?
No, nothing like that.
It took us a while, maybe too much, but in the end, only there, we get it.
How to overcome hunger.
We opened our eyes once and for all, observing with mature realism the world’s remains all around.
So we started to eat what was there.
We ate the ground, all, all that could get in a hand and, after grabbing all, the treasure was lonely there, what ‘migrants on the contrary’ steal us, as if it had never been ours. As if we ourselves do not ever existed and that's it.
We ate the air, all, all that could come between a frail, little body and another, and blowing away and squeezing, the vacuum was there, what the censored history has given us as a house, as if we had never lived there.
As if we had never lived and nothing more.
We also ate dreams and nightmares, not getting the difference.
We did the same with smiles and tears.
Pleasant days and bad ones, enjoyable sensations and those hateful.
It must be an inevitable mechanism. On the soft shore of the great sea they rise boundaries and walls everywhere, while we start to merge everything.
Maybe this is the reason why, at the end of the story, everything can be eaten.
Meanwhile the last few seconds ran, but that did not put us off.
Indeed, far from it.
That's what we really have in common.
When at last we begin to find food we cannot stop.
So we ate the past and even with the latter we have not made any selection.
Only looking at one day in particular we all hesitated.
Because that one, the very first, was the land of promises and hopes.
Of everything was still possible.
Wonderful, fleeting ignorance, right?
When you had no idea that the end of the story had already been written time ago.
Nevertheless, even in the most influential books in the world there are blank spaces, among paragraphs, before the preface and after the prologue.
That's where we tell and read about us.
In the seconds that remain.
And only in the last of them.
We have stopped to lose.
Dear sky, enlighten us, now.
Because now that we have learned to eat our own lives, no one can take it away anymore...
Read more stories about human rights
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
"These are children who, after all, have been hungry for their entire lives, and some will die here in the next twenty-four hours," said Jean Stowell, head of Doctor Without Borders center in Maiduguri, Nigeria, where the hunger is causing the death of hundreds of children a day.
In the few seconds that remained, there, only at that
Hooray! The wicked hunger was defeated.
A miracle? A magic? Divine intervention, maybe?
Or perhaps the fateful good ones’ arrival?
No, nothing like that.
It took us a while, maybe too much, but in the end, only there, we get it.
How to overcome hunger.
We opened our eyes once and for all, observing with mature realism the world’s remains all around.
So we started to eat what was there.
We ate the ground, all, all that could get in a hand and, after grabbing all, the treasure was lonely there, what ‘migrants on the contrary’ steal us, as if it had never been ours. As if we ourselves do not ever existed and that's it.
We ate the air, all, all that could come between a frail, little body and another, and blowing away and squeezing, the vacuum was there, what the censored history has given us as a house, as if we had never lived there.
As if we had never lived and nothing more.
We also ate dreams and nightmares, not getting the difference.
We did the same with smiles and tears.
Pleasant days and bad ones, enjoyable sensations and those hateful.
It must be an inevitable mechanism. On the soft shore of the great sea they rise boundaries and walls everywhere, while we start to merge everything.
Maybe this is the reason why, at the end of the story, everything can be eaten.
Meanwhile the last few seconds ran, but that did not put us off.
Indeed, far from it.
That's what we really have in common.
When at last we begin to find food we cannot stop.
So we ate the past and even with the latter we have not made any selection.
Only looking at one day in particular we all hesitated.
Because that one, the very first, was the land of promises and hopes.
Of everything was still possible.
Wonderful, fleeting ignorance, right?
When you had no idea that the end of the story had already been written time ago.
Nevertheless, even in the most influential books in the world there are blank spaces, among paragraphs, before the preface and after the prologue.
That's where we tell and read about us.
In the seconds that remain.
And only in the last of them.
We have stopped to lose.
Dear sky, enlighten us, now.
Because now that we have learned to eat our own lives, no one can take it away anymore...
Read more stories about human rights
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles