13:37
SLAVE TRADE IN LIBYA
13:37S O R R O W I was going to write an update blog post wittering on about this, that and the other. But I can’t. When a tragedy permeat...
S O R R O W
I was going to write an update blog post wittering on about this, that and the other. But I can’t. When a tragedy permeates my bubble, just like Grenfell Tower, my heart pangs with hurt. It is inexplicable, the pain is inexplicable. I selfishly try and iron clad my ignorance of the unfathomable pain and injustice occurring in the world, greedily disregarding the pricks and prods from 24-hour news outlets and hashtags to shield myself from having to empathise. How selfish of me. I feel anger at myself, but I know it’s a hopeless rage.
I am in the library as I write this, allowing myself to understand the egregious inhumane acts occurring in Libya. Reading online articles and watching documentaries. Grudgingly peeling skinfolds of endless ignorance around my eyes. And I’m just breaking down. I’m crying so much. Crying out of anger with myself. Crying out of sadness for the pain people are experiencing. Crying out of confusion. I cannot fully empathise/understand the inhumanity the migrants face for them to flee their home country to endure, not only the treacherous journey, but the huge trepidation and fear of potential death or slavery. In the documentary, most migrants expressed such pure hopelessness in regards to the life they left behind them, but no hope for the life they were risking it all to live. When someones expressing they have nothing left to lose and are willing to go through hell for the small chance relief, you are forced to imagine the hell they were in previously.
It's such a pitiful, desperately upsetting reality. My hurt just seems inadequate and futile, and it feels selfish to even hurt on their behalf. It does not achieve anything. It can’t compensate or even prepare to equate to the hurt these individuals feel. Such a hopeless sadness.
It's such a pitiful, desperately upsetting reality. My hurt just seems inadequate and futile, and it feels selfish to even hurt on their behalf. It does not achieve anything. It can’t compensate or even prepare to equate to the hurt these individuals feel. Such a hopeless sadness.
I have no desire to put a positive spin on this - I doubt there is one. If there is anything to come out of this:
- Firstly I urge you to read up and watch some things to understand what these fellow human beings endure. Here are some quick links, the documentary gives a lot of insight into the conditions the migrants face:
Or alternatively just Google Libya slave trade.
2. Please sign the petition. It is really quick. Please let your humanity force you to sign: 1. https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/205476
3. Please if you know anything more for me and others to get involved in to help, let me know in the comments or on Twitter.
I’m lost for words at how sickening this is. Dejected. Ross Kemp said something at the end of the documentary that is poignantly fractured:
we use words sometimes like, humanitarian disaster, but it's not until it confronts you like this …how many people are drowning and no one knows about them.
Words sometimes do not hold the potency of the feeling it’s meant to convey- and the word that characterises this tragedy is pure Sorrow.
My prayers, for all it can mean, goes out to them. And my action, for all it can do, reaches out too.
Tea.
Tea.