an activist

Do you want change? Or are you just accepting coins?

‘An activist is a person who campaigns for some kind of social change.’We all NEED to be activists. How could we NOT be?

Have you not read about child prostitution in Brazil? I read a book about in two years ago and was appalled. The younger they are the more valuable they are to those men who want to have sex with them. Yes, a ten year old girl, beautiful and with a life ahead of her, has to get in a car, maybe a Mercedes, maybe a stinky old truck, travel to a motel or a secluded place, and let a man violate her. Dozens of times every day. I could be much more graphic about it but I will spare you. But imagine this.. this girl (or little boy) has countless men penetrate her/him only to decrease in value as she gets older. When she is 10 she is worth £5 an hour, and maybe when she is 15 she will be around £1 an hour. But by then she is so hooked on crack and probably has a child or two, that child destined for the same horrendous fate. Talk to that little girl and she might tell you it is just life, it is just what she has to do. And this is the SADDEST part. This is the part that MUST make us activists. The part where a beautiful child turns into a run-down, used, tattered, dirty, diseased, cold-hearted, lifeless object. The part where she says, ‘I have no choice. This is the only way.’ The part where she says, ‘My life has no meaning.’

Have you not read about the girl hostages in Nigeria? And that in the past child hostages have been raped and forced into war, into holding guns, into shooting people and other children? If you can’t imagine what this would be like to hold a gun as a child watch Blood Diamond, the movie that made me want to be a writer, and secretly an activist, because the children’s faces had hatred written all over them, they were trained to hate other people and trained to love the force of the gun against them as they shoot those bullets that steal lives of the innocence. Those bullets steal their lives too. Because they are also lifeless like the children of Brazil. They don’t have names because they die in battle and no0ne cares because they were taken from (or sold by) their families. They don’t get to celebrate their birthdays, instead the only gifts they get are new guns, bigger guns as they get older, more responsibility to step out into the frontline as though they are concrete barriers. They are modern day cannons that can shoot back, but risk being blown up themselves, and they are blow up. And that is the part that MUST make us activists. The part where these young children become invisible, firstly by being stolen and kidnapped, then their dignity taken from them and their thirst for life when they are raped, and then when are put in the frontline and die before reaching their teenage years. They become invisible little nothings and mere weapons of war.

Have you not seen the riots in London that result from the unrest of the underclasses, the black teens who are searched by police simply because they are black? And that a lot of these fellas who walk around in hoodies with limps and talk another kind of English have, at some point in their life, done something illegal but if you talk to them you might find that it is normal where they grew up? Have you not heard about the protests in the Middle East where people who just really want change in their suffocating country are killed because they speak out? And about North Korea, where people have learnt so well how to be miserable and live brainwashed because the authorities want to keep control over every part of their lives? And the prison camps in North Korea where people go even if they are just suspected of speaking out against the government — there where they are forced to labour in the fields for hours on end, skinny, undernourished, tired, 20 years older than their age, without love or encouragement? Or the soldiers in various countries around the world who, if they don’t die at war, come home traumatised because they see their friends blown up, they are forced to kill innocent people who are suspected suicide bombers, and have to learn how to NOT trust anyone in order to protect themselves? And what about that man you pass at the tube entrance every day who is lying on the ground, years of dirt stuck in his rock-hard fingernails, far gone from hope of any sort of life besides begging and sleeping rough?

What about your friend, your sister, your mother, your colleague, who comes to you and tells you she has been suffering with depression for weeks and looks at you with a steely stare because heavy drugs have taken away her ability to express anything but disillusionment? What about your friend who struggles to find work because she lacks the confidence in this brutal world of capitalism and money-vores — eater of money, those who thrive and live and hunt for money?

What about them? People who are torn, burdened, hurt, ostracised, marginalised, bullied, exploited, mislead, brainwashed, abused, traumatised, mentally ill, poor, orphaned?


The answer is — we can’t and we shouldn’t. We must all be activists. We must all fight for justice by creating awareness, praying, giving money and giving time, love and care to those in need.

Choose your cause and start being an activist… NOW! Hopefully I will have a lot more blogs about activist work I get into. 

2 thoughts on “an activist

  1. Yes, well written. Life long activist. But we can only do our part,one by one,minute by minute. Hope you have a good day.


    Elizabeth *WALKER* 868 765 1847

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