For most of us in the developed/developing world having a regular meal, is something we take for granted. For some, finding a meal may be hard but not impossible. But for people in third world countries, finding a regular meal once a day, is really hard. This situation is deplorable and is a gross abuse of the fundamental rights of all men, something that we harp on every day.
These pictures (that I came across on the internet) bothered me and made me want to pen my thoughts. Writing about the imbalance of food, can hardly solve the problem. But at least it can raise awareness about things that our gossip-mongering media miss out on. Imagine if you had the sad plight of being born in such a community. Is there any value for some basic principles that we advocate in civilized life. Is there any meaning in saying that violence is wrong? What if violence is the only source of a respectable life for a man and his family? Do we have any moral standing in advocating non-violence to such people/communities? Doesn’t a man have the right to want to eat? Should luxuries like social well-being and moral-uprightness come in the way of wanting to live? What Mahatma Gandhi said on poverty rings loud to me now, “Poverty is the worst form of violence”.
It is an open secret that most of such incidents happen in Africa.There is no concept called guaranteed acceptance life insurance there in many parts.I will re-count an incident that happened to me in Tanzania. It might not be as chilling as any of these pictures, but it made a big impact on me.
On one afternoon, when driving through the country side, the sun was scorching down on us. At a signal on the highway, a kid, perhaps 10 years old, was selling coconut water for two hundred shillings. He gave me one and I shook it, and found that there was not much water in it. I asked for another and he didn’t have any. I gave back the coconut and we moved on. About a kilometer later, at another signal the same kid came running with a coconut in his hand. Beads of sweat were pouring from his face. He gave me the coconut saying that this one would have more water in it. I was touched. What made the kid hurry and fetch a fresh coconut, run a fair distance (I don’t know how he made it there so fast, a short cut perhaps), with his bated breath getting the better of his words, for a mere 200 shillings. (200 Tanzanian shillings = 0.1476 U.S. dollars). That meager amount was perhaps this kid’s source for his next meal. Chilling. I can still re-collect the smile on his face when I gave him the money.
