(I was not present at this event but am relying what the witnesses saw)
At ten O' clock yesterday morning a young boy was simply trying to cross the street in down town Adigrat, he was in a construction zone and was struck full force by a construction truck. So severely wounded he was still conscious and began screaming for his life. The truck driver bolted leaving the truck and the screaming boy behind. Despite the boy's cries no one helped, no one called the police, no one did anything but watch. A woman helpless woman started screaming with the boy, shrieking for someone, anyone to help him, take him to the hospital. A man finally stepped up and wrapped up the boy who by this time had lost a massive amount of blood and took him to the hospital. He had no ID card on him so they had no way to identify who he was. When he was identified they notified his mother, when she was on her way to the hospital the boy died. He was a grade A high school student with a lot of promise and enthusiasm for learning, I can't even fathom the overwhelming sense of loss, a pointless loss that will plague this poor woman for the rest of her life.
Today was the funeral. My aunt and I both attended. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The whole town was there to morn the loss of this boy. There were women and men dressed in traditional white shawls, most of them were crying and wailing, screaming at the top of their lungs to the skies, some were even collapsing on the street they were so filled with grief. In between their sobs and shrieks of agony they would break into songs or chants, they walked with the casket to the graveyard and did ceremonial prayers and songs of final rest. The priests had very elaborately decorated and brightly colored umbrellas yet wore the traditional black robes. It was very moving yet unsettling to see such a spectacle. My aunt was disturbed by it as well and cried tears of sympathy for the family and closest friends that were really losing it. They finally preceded the body back to the marked grave and after some more ceremonial songs and prayers over the small coffin, they buried him. I will never forget what a funeral is like in Ethiopia compared to the somber, very quiet, black clothed funerals I attended at home.
On a lighter subject that has none the less a dismal past, there is an orphan girl here that my aunt is absolutely in love with named Tharic, she is a beautiful 4 Year old toddler who is very bright and with a deep and curious gaze always on her very striking face. She was orphaned by her mother because Tharic was the result of a rape that happened to this woman. Despite the two attempts she made to kill the baby, once while she was pregnant with her and once when she was an infant, Tharic lived and ended up coming to the orphanage and the mother loathed her existence and did not want anything to do with her daughter. Tharic did not understand; she would see her mother still walking around and go stiff because of the memories of abuse and neglect. This is not a bad reflection on the mother, she was traumatized because of the events that happened leading to Tharic’s existence she had physiological damage done to her. She has been placed in a mental hospital and is receiving help to deal with what has happened and is working towards recovering from the past and is now starting to see Tharic again and they are both trying to re-bond and heal together and look to a brighter, happier future together. Everyone has high hopes for their relationship…
No comments:
Post a Comment