By Rabhelani Mguni
There are times in which I think (and reach a definite conclusion) that the news is actually nothing but entertainment and a pastime for many people. Their reactions to the stories are temporary and can easily be distracted by something else acting as a commercial break. It seems easy for people to react to atrocity with anger and rage, only for them to forget their disgust once something happier comes up.
It is the ability to serve two masters, joy and rage, that I find astonishing. Solidarity to those in pain is a currency that can be ditched with changes in trends. Death becomes a statistic that can be ignored or relegated to the back of our minds - something to be dealt with by someone else. The ignorance and indifference are packaged off into the island of foreign policy, an I-see-the-mess-but-not-mine-to-clean mentality. Alas, some are tired and have moved on from talking of the wars and conflicts happening, to things that give satisfactory happiness.
I have in some moments accused my compatriots of forgetfulness and their uncanny ability to move on from experiences that have altered their humanity, and rearranged the algorithm of how they get to experience the joy and beauty of life. From the Gukurahundi genocide to Operation Murambatsvina, they, my fellow countrymen, too, seem capable of forgiving and forgetting that something unpardonable has been done to them. There is an intolerable willingness to ignore the necessity of justice and closure in favour of moving on. This is what most of us are doing to the people who need our voices most at this time of war and disregard for life.
The flags of solidarity on social media profiles have been taken down, as of the hashtags no longer hold value. It is no surprise that on the night of the campaign on the Rafah border, most of us were comfortable streaming the Super Bowl. Our solidarity is not about principles but projections of morality. It is not only the attack on Gaza civilians that proves our sin of serving two masters, many events have happened that could have taken our attention. Ghana passed a homophobic bill in the last week of February, but celebrities had forgotten they owned pride flags and were focused on who would win what award during the Oscars. In one of my essays, I made an argument about the silence of celebrities and artists as a way of protecting their brands and the proceeds from their creative works. Alas! I am proven right.
We have forgotten the children working in the mines of the Democratic Republic of Congo as slaves, child labour seems to dignify the inhumanity of the crime, the displaced Tigrayans and people from Darfur in Sudan, the people of Myanmar, women of Afghanistan, the hopeless queer community of Ghana and Uganda, the women of South Africa, Anglophone Cameroonians, Uyghurs, the Latin American immigrant stuck on the border, and Haitians. The list of people is long, and many of them want nothing more than assurance that tomorrow they will be alive. These are the people whose realities have vanished, and, in their stead, vanity funded by the extra change from war profits has taken our attention.
People have found a way of focusing on the supposedly good stuff, forgetting that at the end of the day, it is about defending the very sanctity of life that should be occupying our minds. All of us seem to forget that the objective is not just the ceasefire, but the absolute end to the acceptance of inhumane treatment of our fellow people. Unlivable conditions are also another form of violence.
Some things should never be forgotten. All of us must bear the burden of sharing the suffering of others. Empathy should be our default mode. Our craftsmanship in the arts of forgetfulness reflects the faults in our humanity. To move from conflict to celebration indicates indifference and complicity in the commission of atrocities and violence. It simply is wicked and unacceptable. And as for creators of art and institutions, their only credible and honest neutrality sides with the sanctity of humanity. For the rest of us, we must never forget or allow ourselves to be distracted by the state of hopelessness that has the world under siege. Tireless remembrance of those in pain and displaced from the land of the living is an act of solidarity and loving fellowship for our fellow humans.
About the Writer
Rabhelani Mguni is a writer and essayist. He is from Bulawayo and lives in Harare due to work. The writer is an undergraduate Gender Studies student at the Nehanda Center for Gender and Cultural Studies at the Great Zimbabwe University. His reading and writing is informed by his interests in social justice, pacifism, romance, history, and society. Some of his works have appeared in such publications like Lolwe, Novelty Fiction Gazette, Kalahari Review, Olongo Africa and Odd Magazine.
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