20 August 2016

I have been thinking a lot about the video of the young boy in Aleppo and why I posted it. Because my father is right, there is nothing we can do. And I admit that I posted it partly because he said this to me and also because I didn't know what to do with my anguish, how to soften the blow. Which of course has no effect other than a feeling of: see? There you have it. In your face, you cruel world.

The boy BTW is back home with his family, he was (physically) not seriously injured. We cannot imagine what "home" means in this context, how he, his family and the other 300,000 remaining residents of Aleppo get through their days.

I remember when the bazaar of Aleppo was burned to the ground in 2012 and the reaction in the media, what a loss and what a shame. I met a Syrian taxi driver a few days later (we have many Syrian taxi drivers) and he was so upset, the souk, our souk, he cried, all gone! Four years ago, there was outrage because a UNESCO heritage site was destroyed.

Meanwhile, we can donate some of our spare cash to the various aid agencies which are doing amazing things and sleep a little better. Or we can read this report by Dr Sahloul, a physician from Chicago working in Aleppo and lose more sleep.

But most of all, I would like to see this happen:

3 comments:

am said...

The visual arts and music and the written word are powerful. Whoever put that collage together did something that couldn't have been done in any other way. A vision for us all. I still sense that there is something each of us can do. We are all connected.

Anonymous said...

The image is truly stunning. It says so much in one visual moment. We move on day after day from one tragedy to the next. When I look at the image, I think what child will we see next scorched between them.

37paddington said...

I thank you for posting it Sabine. The still photograph was one thing, and I confess I looked away. I could not look away from the video, from that child sitting there, bewildered and covered in bomb dust, wiping his face and then looking down at his bloody hand. Sometimes, even when there is nothing we can do, awareness, consciousness, can help move the needle. At least I hope so.