We hear stories

Kellerine Quah

Art: 'The Answer', by Veronika Belcheva (@belronika) for Fine Acts, is licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA.

It is safe to presume you care
for people you’ve never met.

Buildings and bodies turn to ash
Another headline, another fire.

Communities torn apart by war
We hear stories;

They hear the sounds of children 
playing in the day 
Gunshots in the night.

The next morning, they play with bones.

Millions unnamed, unreported
Smoke fills the air 
we do not breathe.

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On ‘We hear stories’

This poem was inspired by personal accounts from a humanitarian worker in an organisation that builds schools in war zones. A recent update highlighted that in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, 27.3 million people suffer from hunger and are in urgent need of food security assistance. The images of children playing and the gunshots are from an eyewitness account of one of their humanitarian workers. Beyond the DRC, global headlines reek of human rights violations and humanitarian crises. Though I may think that I care about injustice, the suffering that people in conflict zones experience is distant to me; my awareness of their suffering is limited, my emotions are secondhand, and the stories I hear can never fully cover the depths of their lived experiences.

The illustration accompanying this poem, 'The Answer' by Veronika Belcheva (@belronika) for Fine Acts, is licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA.