I don’t know what to write about, so I’ll write about the view outside my window.
From my office, the view outside the window is a slum, an informal settlement. I actually think it’s grown bigger since I started working in this office like 4 months ago.
Anyway, there is a school in that place, and I can hear the kids sing jubilantly at certain times of the day. Then sometimes I look out and see a woman washing clothes and hanging them on a makeshift clothesline.
The most frequent thing I see is men rebuilding their tin roof houses. They are either always repairing the roofs or just creating more space or something.
The worst is when it rains. I see people rushing to their houses and can only imagine what their thoughts are. There is hardly any drainage so I can picture them cursing the fact that their houses may get flooded in a matter of minutes. I can imagine them cursing the leaking roofs. I can almost see them bracing themselves for a night of cold wetness.
I can’t see the place very clearly but many thougts go through my head every time I look out hoping for a different view. Every time I want to daydream I look out and see this place of broken dreams and lost hopes.
But maybe all is not lost.
There must be a reason why I sit here and think all these things every time I look at those houses.
It makes me thankful for what I have. It makes me see the reality of poverty and corruption and divergent social and economic classes.
I don’t want it to make me just thankful. I want to be inspired to do something about it.