No one should be ashamed of anybody, especially when evil and injustice haven’t been done. No one has a right to ethnic cleansing. What is ethnic cleansing, anyway, if not the devil’s tool for the extension of his destruction upon mankind? What kind of demonic ideology is it to rid a race/group different or supposedly inferior to yours? Who decides on such atrocities anyway? Certainly no man ought so.
This morning I saw a thin old man walking closely behind his equally frail wife. She had difficulty walking, for I saw a walking aid nearby at the corner where it was left on purpose so she could learn to exercise her leg muscles. He stood close behind her not only to encourage her to take forward steps, but to assure her that he is just behind and should she fall, she need not fear because he is right behind for support. That is the kind of love that should be shared abroad. Not hate and discrimination and certainly not ethnic cleansing.
I’m reminded of the year 1991, the year my thirteen year old mind understood ethnic cleansing and inhumanity. Sitting in the living room of my JB house, watching the grim scenes on the television with my dad and sis. I think mom was there too, but she couldn’t bear the brutality and left the room for household chores. I remembered how my tears rolled and my heart bled a thousand times over. I kept asking my dad why can’t the US or UN, or anyone, for that matter, do anything to stop the Bosnian annihilation. Despite the grave tone in which I queried my dad, he took my seriousness in wanting to help lightly and said to my dismay, what can we do? I remembered my resolute reply which I believed with all my heart then – that I will grow up to fight for justice. Maybe not then in 1991, for I was yet young, but someday when I grow up I will. I have not yet found my cause to fight for, but up till then I thank God I have found an outlet in writing.
This morning I saw a thin old man walking closely behind his equally frail wife. She had difficulty walking, for I saw a walking aid nearby at the corner where it was left on purpose so she could learn to exercise her leg muscles. He stood close behind her not only to encourage her to take forward steps, but to assure her that he is just behind and should she fall, she need not fear because he is right behind for support. That is the kind of love that should be shared abroad. Not hate and discrimination and certainly not ethnic cleansing.
I’m reminded of the year 1991, the year my thirteen year old mind understood ethnic cleansing and inhumanity. Sitting in the living room of my JB house, watching the grim scenes on the television with my dad and sis. I think mom was there too, but she couldn’t bear the brutality and left the room for household chores. I remembered how my tears rolled and my heart bled a thousand times over. I kept asking my dad why can’t the US or UN, or anyone, for that matter, do anything to stop the Bosnian annihilation. Despite the grave tone in which I queried my dad, he took my seriousness in wanting to help lightly and said to my dismay, what can we do? I remembered my resolute reply which I believed with all my heart then – that I will grow up to fight for justice. Maybe not then in 1991, for I was yet young, but someday when I grow up I will. I have not yet found my cause to fight for, but up till then I thank God I have found an outlet in writing.
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