Although I set out a black outfit, I didn't manage to leave the house yesterday.
A combination of too much work and also, I guess a bit of fear. I was terrified that Trinis wouldn't have heeded the call to wear black. That people would have dismissed the call and gone on with life as usual. That I would go out and be more angry and upset about this Sean Luke thing.
So I stayed home, watching BBC, watching dead Palestinian children. It's easier that way. To think that the death isn't happening in your back yard. To think that such barbarism won't ever touch your home. But it does and it has and it will continue to do so, because we still don't know the value of our children.
In the evening, my niece and nephews came over. Loud and energetic, climbing all over me, making me exasperated and happy and tired and hoarse all at the same time. I can't imagine someone wanting to destroy such light. We watch some cartoons and after a much arguing and bribing with promises of snacks, I switch to the news. The newsreader is wearing black. Sean Luke's picture comes up on screen. The nephews watch and we share a rare moment of stillness and silence.
"Everybody talking about Sean Luke." Shomari says, I guess to let me know that they know but that they too can't make sense of it. The moment passes. I switch back to cartoons and the boys sigh with relief. They go back to being their sweet, loud, funny, innocent selves again. But I still feel powerless to protect them against the real monsters that live, not under beds or in a far off place with Anansi.
This little kid did not deserve what happened to him. He is just little baby still, to me he is an angel. Sean your parents still loves you and the people who don't know you much they love you to.
Posted by: Savita | March 02, 2007 at 03:13 PM