I HAVE A CHOICE
This morning I woke up and I was feeling somewhat low. Inexplicable given that I have nothing to feel depressed about ( other than my current apathy ). As always, my choices for the day are exclusively governed by my eating issues. After a larger breakfast than usual ( a few extra slivers of fruit ) I now had this compunction and compulsion to ‘ work it off ‘ – hence the notion of a slightly longer walk than normal. Together with this is the thought that I need to replenish stocks of some of the specific foods I am currently fixated on. Said foods are only available at certain branches of M&S so plans need to be made in order to access those stores. Brainwave : I can walk to the King’s Road store from home and this way I can kill 2 birds with one stone. Its a fair walk and I justify it by telling myself that I am out and about enjoying the winter sunshine ( completely negated by an air-polluted walk along the King’s Road ). 2 shops later ( needed to pop into Waitrose as well ) and armed with my free coffee I sat on the bus with a sense of accomplishment, mission completed. Headphones in, BBC radio 4 on the go and this excerpt that has left me feeling so deeply ashamed and somewhat disgusted with the choices I make.
SHE HAD NO CHOICE
A 13 year old girl was walking along the road on her way to school, somewhere in Nigeria. She was kidnapped by 2 men on a motorbike and taken to a compound run by Boko Haram. After some weeks of harsh treatment and deprivation, she was given 2 choices: She could either marry a fighter or she could choose a mission. She didn’t want to give herself to any man so she chose a mission. She was dressed in a beautiful dress by 2 women and creative patterns of henna were delicately painted on her hands. She then had a belt of explosives tied around her waist and with 2 other girls, was driven to the nearest town where they were told to blow themselves up in a densely populated area. Walking towards the town, the girls decided between themselves that they would run away. They approached the first men they saw along the road and asked them to help them remove the explosives they were wearing. Unbeknown to them, these men were affiliated to Boko Haram and they were taken back to their compound where they were severely punished. A few weeks later the girl was once again given the choice between marriage or a mission and yet again, she chose a mission, this time intending to make sure that she wouldn’t approach the wrong men. She managed to find a group of farmers along the way and asked them for their help but they were too afraid , this time of her, due to the explosives she was wearing. She eventually found herself in the company of vigilantes who were opposed to Boko Haram. They offered to take her back to her parents and her village but her parents refused to let her come home because they feared the repercussions from Boko Haram, not only for themselves but for the entire village . The only choice that this young girl was left with, was to marry one of the vigilantes who had ‘ saved’ her.
Whilst I know its difficult to compare apples with pears, yet where we live in a democratic society with a plethora of choices in our personal lives, when we make bad choices, the chances of them being literally the choice between life and death is so minuscule that its not a consideration. Perhaps we should place more thought, more value upon this freedom and be mindful of this extreme privilege we are blessed with. Do we have to be faced with a tragedy or a life-threatening illness before we make different choices for our lives?
