The Story of Sorrow and Power
Memories of land are about sorrow and power. No more imagination of a space where everyone can live happily above it. On it people are killing each other and people kills for it.
Years ago, I made film on a community which is self sufficient from their reclaimed land. I was taping one of the community, a women. She was 40 years old. “Once, in the middle of the night,” she said. “Around hundred motor cycled thugs came to our house. After hiding our son, my husband and I went outside. We brought long knife with us. They shouted and forced us to leave. I managed to hit a wood trunk to call for other peasants, when they saw we were outnumber, they fled.” Then she smiled. “Now I can till the land. I can eat three times a day and be able to give alms.”
Suddenly, from my camera I saw a long paused. Her eyes started to water, in shattered voice she carried on, “Before having this land, my son and I could only eat once a day. Sometimes we didn’t at all. One time, he was starving for days. None of neighbors were willing to help.” She burst into tears. “We were so hungry. Luckily my husband came from city. He had 25 kilograms of rice with him. Thank God, we could eat.” She continued, “I am happy now, although the government is not yet recognizing our right over the land. I will keep fighting for it.”