Heart of Darfur by Lisa French Blaker

Standard

heart-of-darfur

When days are good in Darfur you relish every one. You never know–it may be your last.

An African mother doesn’t grieve less because she does it often. I’ve heard people say, ‘It’s different there,’ when they hear of death and dying in Africa. They say, ‘Those people are used to death and for them it’s natural.’ Stand listening to a crying mother as she holds her dead child in her arms and tell me if you really believe that. They cry and grieve and ache inside and the aching never goes. The difference is they have no choice without the care we take for granted. Their children die and they can only watch. So they lift the body, tie it to their backs with a colourful sheet and carry another baby home to bury in the sand.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s