The paradox of the public’s power.
Where there’s black smoke, there’s a burning tyre.
We walk towards the rising tower and flaming rubber. We’re a group of journalists wandering around Joza, documenting the violence that has erupted in the community. The photographer beside me starts framing the scene through her lens: angry orange, a littered street, loitering spectators, a smudged sky.
“No photos. No photographs. Go away.” A young boy waves at the camera and furiously shakes his head. “No photographs!”
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she says as she lowers her camera and moves across the street. (more…)
Our history hurts, and without education, freedom is dumb because people are trapped by the crimes of time. Although the blade has fallen on fees, how do we account for the suffering and desperation of our communities?