Sometimes the safest place in the world can be as simple as the closeness and intimacy with a parent or a grandparent and at those moments their bodies seem to shield us from all what can threaten or hurt us.
photo taken: little girl near a small shop in Boracay
Until I went to Africa and saw the children face to face, the issues resided in my head as statistics, facts and numbers…
This child is no longer a number. This little girl has a unique story, she has a name, she has parents, a favorite game she liked to play back in her home in Rwanda and maybe a favorite color. I met her in Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo, where she was taking refuge in a medical center with her mother after crossing the border and receiving milk and medication with groups of other refugees, mostly women and children. She is one of millions affected by the conflict in the area and her future is unknown, unsafe and uncertain.
Another powerless victim in a war waged for no other purpose than the attainment of power.
It is strange after living in countries that put so much emphasis on traffic safety regulations, like the obligatory use of helmets, children’s safety, seat belts…etc, to live in Shanghai and witness the loose and almost too relaxed regulations for transportation. This is of course not too alien to me, having lived my first twenty years in Lebanon where everything goes, but I still get a shock each time I see a child riding the Shanghai traffic in this way. All is left to chance, good luck and to the faith that other drivers will be careful. But there has not been a week where I did not see at least one moped, motorcycle, bicycle or car accident in the streets of the city, so there must be something wrong with this picture!