Tuesday, June 04, 2013



It is a Revolution - make no mistake.  

We mark our battle at 9.00 pm each night by banging our pots and pans by open windows.  Dusk is turning into night and our children, friends, neighbours go out to do battle.  A battle that requires no weapons, but our love and hope.  Their protection is, often only a scarf tied around their nose and swimming goggles.  This is all they have to protect themselves from the toxic gasses sprayed, launched, aimed and thrown.  They wear no body armour to save themselves from the blasts of the water cannons, the shells from the tear gas nor the rubber bullets.  Each and everyone is a hero.  They are my heroes.  

I too have ventured out into the horror on the streets.  Inhaled tear gas, like nearly everyone, helped lay some stones on a barricade and then retreated to the safety of my home, because I quickly worked out that I can't run fast enough to escape the water cannons or the tear gas.  Here I sit, hour upon hour working on Facebook and Twitter to flood news of this to the outside world; to help create awareness  and support the heroes on the streets.  My revolution takes place behind the computer with the few skills I have.  They are not enough, but they are what I can give.  Others work with Anonymous to bring down the government's internet sites.  Some prepare bottles of lemon juice to pass to people who have been badly gassed to bathe their faces in and especially their eyes.  Others wait with spray bottles of milk to douse those affected by pepper spray.  Homes hang out white towels from their window to let the protestors know they offer a safe haven if needed.  Still more rush to police stations waving their law degrees.  Doctors, nurses, interns work on the street, in mosques, hallways, houses, where ever they are needed to treat the injured.  We all do what we can.  

There is a fear the Prime Minster will turn this into a jihad.  That he will raise an army of the religious against us by invoking the name of his God.  That will certainly be the call from a desperate man.  But for now He has left his country in chaos to go on a diplomatic mission.  To escape censure for what is taking place now?  To avoid being held accountable for what takes place when he is not here?  He has told his people that he wants 'this mess' cleared up by the time he returns.  Those responsible for this 'clean up' could resort to further violence, as they only have two days left.  I hope that is not the case.  I have a daughter building barricades as we speak.  She is armed with only the belief that what she is doing is right, and her swimming goggles.  My son has expressed a desire to join the fight. I asked him one question 'Think carefully.  Are you prepared to die for this cause?'
He went silent.  He is only just a teenager.  Right now his hormones are raging.  His body is fighting to become a man.  His armpits reek.  Before he answered my daughter said, 'We can send him in as our toxic counterpart to tear gas.  No one can breathe when close to him.  He is our weapon of mass destruction - The deadly armpit!'

In the midst of this war we laughed.  We laugh because we don't want to cry.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please comment - the more you put, the more I learn, the more I write.