From Your Castle Up Above.
"In 1999, a poor Colombian told me that his eighty two years had finally dulled his fear of violence which had tormented him because he had been robbed many times; once they'd cut his belly open-I requested opinion of the rich-He clenched his fist and said:Oh,they don't do nothing for the poor people!
The ones who harmed him were poorer than he-and still he hated the rich."
This is an excerpt from Poor People by Michael Voltmann searching for a different view on poverty-seeking a first hand account from poor people all over the world. It's an interesting adventure through India and a few other countries through the slums and farmlands asking this a few simple questions: Are you poor? Why do you think you are poor? Why are some people rich and some people poor?
The first lesson I have learnt is that the only people who really understand poverty are those swimming deep in the dirt-lavished,sewer-decorated,waste adorned abodes of splendid misery. Those are the only people who really understand what it is to live in real poverty.
Poverty has a mindset that comes with the lifestyle. When all you can think about is your next meal then your whole perspective on life changes. We know we can make a difference. We know we will be successful. We know a friend who can ask a friend to get you a job. We know that when we're sick we can go to hospital. We know that we can give in to our ineluctable desires and afford an impulse buy or two. We know that we will always have a home,food and clothes on our back. Think of all those things and imagine a life where success isn't even a thought. You're 18 and have never stepped out of Kibera slum. You have never been to the city which is one matatu ride(or a walk) away. You haven't been to school. You don't have a job. You have been desensitised to the filth and noise around you, the rape, the drunkenness, the domestic violence,the insecurity,the wreaking smell of hopelessness and despair. This isn't a slum. It's home.
A Thoreauvian existence becomes a norm. The only people that have a problem with the way they live is you. You looking from the outside. You on the internet looking at the photos and pitying them. You blaming the government for all the poverty. You blaming the MP and Governor for all the neglect and mismanagement. You that probably won't vote. You that have mastered the art of social media duels with armour strengthened by bravado. You that blame the poor for their obsequious obsession and belief in politicians but do nothing to help them see a better way. You that thinks that your political discussions at a bar are much more advanced than the watchmen you passed on the way in. You who have all the power but no influence. You who are bothered by poor leadership but not too bothered to actually do anything about it. You who really don't know the difference between sympathy and empathy but you're past stoic apathy and so that should surely count for something.
You're the ones talking about poverty. You're the ones distraught by the opprobrium of a slum right next to your plush estate. I'm glad that you're high enough to see the slum. That's step one,I guess?
The ones who harmed him were poorer than he-and still he hated the rich."
This is an excerpt from Poor People by Michael Voltmann searching for a different view on poverty-seeking a first hand account from poor people all over the world. It's an interesting adventure through India and a few other countries through the slums and farmlands asking this a few simple questions: Are you poor? Why do you think you are poor? Why are some people rich and some people poor?
The first lesson I have learnt is that the only people who really understand poverty are those swimming deep in the dirt-lavished,sewer-decorated,waste adorned abodes of splendid misery. Those are the only people who really understand what it is to live in real poverty.
Poverty has a mindset that comes with the lifestyle. When all you can think about is your next meal then your whole perspective on life changes. We know we can make a difference. We know we will be successful. We know a friend who can ask a friend to get you a job. We know that when we're sick we can go to hospital. We know that we can give in to our ineluctable desires and afford an impulse buy or two. We know that we will always have a home,food and clothes on our back. Think of all those things and imagine a life where success isn't even a thought. You're 18 and have never stepped out of Kibera slum. You have never been to the city which is one matatu ride(or a walk) away. You haven't been to school. You don't have a job. You have been desensitised to the filth and noise around you, the rape, the drunkenness, the domestic violence,the insecurity,the wreaking smell of hopelessness and despair. This isn't a slum. It's home.
A Thoreauvian existence becomes a norm. The only people that have a problem with the way they live is you. You looking from the outside. You on the internet looking at the photos and pitying them. You blaming the government for all the poverty. You blaming the MP and Governor for all the neglect and mismanagement. You that probably won't vote. You that have mastered the art of social media duels with armour strengthened by bravado. You that blame the poor for their obsequious obsession and belief in politicians but do nothing to help them see a better way. You that thinks that your political discussions at a bar are much more advanced than the watchmen you passed on the way in. You who have all the power but no influence. You who are bothered by poor leadership but not too bothered to actually do anything about it. You who really don't know the difference between sympathy and empathy but you're past stoic apathy and so that should surely count for something.
You're the ones talking about poverty. You're the ones distraught by the opprobrium of a slum right next to your plush estate. I'm glad that you're high enough to see the slum. That's step one,I guess?
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