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Persons or trash?

My God, can not sleep. Promotes in me the fire that destroyed the shacks of the slum, when I was a child. I know I am not dreaming. I relive each memory when I hear people talking about who is going through the same process similar to the scenes of my past. They are still using the same strategies to deal with people living in slums at the time of the transfers.

The government creates programs, only the name change. A mask of worthlessness are engineered forms of exclusion that they use. The methodology to expel the less privileged in these transfers are unpleasant.

Launched a new project, want to teach families to learn to live in a house.

We must not forget that women are far from the slum to clean the walls of buildings and luxury foods to support the daily lives of their employers. Who should teach?

Who is able to dominate the services?

Could dissect this issue as a doctor does in a body to be studied.

What is called a subclass? I venture to give just a glimpse of a girl trapped in the idea of ​​memory, with less money, born in a fertile country with abundant vegetation. Cradle of the waters of the world, with oil supplies, and knowing that the owner is who gets possession of the land.

Who gave the states for the captains and barons? Here was a land of Indians.

All people are born without wealth, and basic care needs for survival. Poverty increases the power of inequality, reduces the other to be always miserable.

I Do not want to dwell on this social policy issue due to a poor income distribution conditions. I was born poor, I never felt inferior.

If I survived with the remnants of power, eating leftovers, being the victim of beating, without having a decent house, living on the stool by the way, having to watch the picture painted in the colors of the caliber of weapons.

The vernissage I had to look at the subject were the human models were boys still prioritizing the ground red with blood and their bodies black as background. In the center of life become routine screen seen from the window of our childhood chaos, produced by a transfer that affected the feelings of a community.

I Can not Believe That the poor citizen Able is less than the rich. Not HAVING HAD the benefit of owning properties, is a question of historical colonization. If It is allowed to be born poor, build huts, Also one must be part of this problem by intervening with the law as a constitutional right.

I remember the transfer of slums. I lived 42 years ago, I was removed in a garbage truck, along with neighbors and they were all gold to us. All because of that time and reigning power in a political speculation dictatorship. Investing.

And now is the World Cup which will be largely responsible for the transfers. The community will be treated like dirt again? Regardless of the story of their lives. Treated as waste? Enough!

The government, in order to accelerate growth through its programs, destroy families that we spend years saving for their homes. They play on the ground with demolition destroy all the investment space, feelings and personal history of a people. On behalf of the best.

It asked them what is the best?

Children become confused, disengage the story of an era, and behaviors contribute to acculturate, undermining the resources that form the weaving espertises a native people.

The disadvantaged are empowered to keep his life with his family in poverty. Work, Their children enroll in a school system near his home, is the help of neighbors all Collapse, it has to start, there fragelização emotional and historical ties with the space is not just a piece That moves from one board. He is the life

Today I'm grieving, see the wreckage of the houses of friends in an area where residents are waiting for the day of your home also come to the floor, their dreams, their lives and all claims for land that does not allow you to maintain the standard of your home previous

Everyone is like debris on the floor. There are pieces on the ground that will never be rebuilt, the sweat of the brow of the worker, the cries of a child and their laughter, love the design of each family member.

How not to feel being treated like dirt, its history destroyed in the rubble?

The poor citizen has no meaning? Has no history?

You have to think hard before launching all these ruins the environment.

We need to intervene. Provide a reflective context of education, we should take our children to teach them the values ​​of life, ethics, respect people. Today, the situation stinks power in the trench with fetuses, dead children, broken families and their own waste, polluting the world with the shame of their immoral acts.

The voting population of the dictator at the head of misery, it is necessary to intervene in the process of enslavement system that involves removing the tag value.

We do not need to earn alms. The charity have asked when we were kids, we want to win paths, directions, quality of life, and be the star of our own success, as well as most considered elite.

Comments

usha kc's picture

Dear sis Valeria,, I do

Dear sis Valeria,, I do appriciate your feelings and thoughts! keep sharing.

Monica Clarke's picture

You are a voice of the future!

My dear, dear Valéria

I read your writing, and memories flood over my heart as it pounds, echoeing the communal suffering - endured and observed - of our people.

I want to scream, to ask why, what are we to do? How can my little effort make any change within the big evil of the big giants with money and politics and power over the little nobodies which we are born to be? How can we make a change?

I wish I knew the answer. I wish I could see into Eternity and follow the pattern of how things need to evolve to ensure a safer haven for our great and great-great grandchildren. I know that what you and I and the rest of this wonderful community of women in World Pulse and every other human being with compassion is trying to achieve - I know that one day, but many, many generations hence - things will change. I call that time Eternity, and I wish you and I could be there to see the change.

All we can but do at the moment is to project our energies into the powers for good, and with our will, force the flow of goodness to shed light into the darkness of evil, so as to make those changes happen.

A Master said, 'The poor you shall have with you always.' I pondered about that for a long, long time, thinking that the words were spoken against the poor. But now, I do see, and the revelation has helped me tremendously. He was speaking about the poor in spirit!

So, dear Valéria, if we accept that the poor in spirit shall be with us always, those who oppress, exploit, take and never give - those are them with poor spirits. They shall be with us always. And then looking at them, it is easier for us to accpt that poverty, in itself, is not the weakness. The weakness lies in not taking the strength offered us by mother earth to rise above the intensity of suffering. The weakness lies in not having the ability to turn suffering on its head, to turn the darkness of it into light, in not being able to make an example of our destiny and say, 'Look at how we have changed things, despite this cloud called Suffering into which we were born. Look at how we managed to turn the dark night into day.'

You. Valéria, with your beautiful, beautiful smile and tremendous energy are such an outstanding example of this. You are making it possible for us to realise that suffering (as the Budha said) is but a part of life and if we are able to detach from it, then that is when we go back to using our birthright: the immense strength which is ours, which never can be dimmed. You have this ability and strength in abundance. You are showing the world of less fortunate people how to let their wounds be their story of triumph.

I wish that I can one day have the privilege of meeting you in person. But, you know what? Those people in America, to whom you will be telling your story next year as a Correspondent (and I know this will happen) - of those people I'm envious, because they will be meeting a true voice of the future!

With lots of respect and deep love from Monica in France

Monica Clarke, Writer & Storyteller, bringing human rights alive.
I wish you 'Nangamso', that is: May you continue to do the good work which you do so well.
(A blessing from my ancestors, the Khoikhoi, the first people of South Africa).

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