|
Report
of an Injustice
“For the past few days the
personal belongings of Mrs.
Damiana Murcia widow of Garcia, 77 years of age, have been out in the rain where they were thrown from her humble living quarters located at 15 “C” Street, between 3 rd and 4 th , Zone 1.” (Radio newspaper “Diario Minuto” first edition, Wednesday, June 10, 1964.) Perhaps you can't believe it, but here, before my eyes, an old woman, Damiana Murcia widow of Garcia, 77 years of ashes, under the rain, beside her furniture, broken, stained, old, receives on the curve of her back all the monstrous injustice of your system, and mine. For being poor, the judges of the rich ordered eviction. Perhaps you no longer understand that word. How noble the world you live in! Little by little the bitterest words lose their cruelty there. And every day, like the dawn, new words emerge all full of love and tenderness for man. Eviction, how to explain it?
You know, here when you can't pay the rent the authorities of the rich come and throw your things in the street. And you're left without roof for the height of your dreams. That's what it means, the word eviction: loneliness open to the sky, to the eye that judges, misery. This is the free world, they say. What luck that you no longer know these liberties! Damiana Murcia widow of Garcia is very small, you know,
and must be very cold.How great her loneliness! You can't believe how these injustices hurt. They are the norm among us. The abnormal is tenderness and the hate of poverty. And so today more than ever I love your world, I understand it,
I glorify
its cosmic pride.And I ask myself: Why do the old suffer among us so, if age comes to us all one day? But the worst of it all is the habit.
Man loses his humanity,The enormous pain of another is no longer his concern and he eats
and he laughs
and he forgets everything.I don't want these things for my country. I don't want these things for anyone. I don't want these things for anyone in the world. And I say I
because painshould carry an indelible aura This is the free world, they say. Look at me. And tell your friends my laughter has turned grotesque in the middle of my face. Tell them I love their world. They should make it beautiful. And I'm very glad they no longer know injustices so deep and painful.
|
