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It was a bright sunny day. Hope glistened far from the clutches of reality. Unknown horizons birthed miracles. The miracle of survival and resurrection. The ‘destitute’ started their journey. A struggle for freedom, a struggle for existence.
People slaughtered like meat, women caged like birds and mere freedom incapacitated in the name of religion. The realm of oppression so wide that deliverance seemed like a silly day dream.
70 million people all over the world remain displaced. They travel on boats, some by cargo ships, others by foot. This is a game of hide and seek whose end result will be either death or freedom. The asylum or Visa issued on humanitarian grounds is the trophy to be won.
Iran, Afghanistan, Albania, Iraq are some of the countries with the highest number of asylum seekers. While lots of people begin their journey, some are deported back to the land of their fears and remain detained indefinitely in refugee camps. A final, smaller portion wins their slice of a free life.
The innocent find themselves displaced. Their children yearn for long lost family.
Freedom is a breeze of fresh air everybody is entitled to regardless of their dominion. Yet few bear its fruits. Few experience breath, think and talk freely. Few experience its essence.
The lives of the refugees are disparaged for the ‘greater good’ or for ‘national security’.
They undergo a series of screenings. Questioning their struggles, proving their goodwill and helplessness, asking them to beg, plead, and pray for the mere existence of freedom
Every life matters. A mourning mother is a mourning world and an oppressed woman is a disgraced world.
Solution?
Nothing but eerie silence lingers.