12,000 dead...
and it’s not news!
IF four buildings – four twin
towers for example – full of boys and girls, killing
12,000 were destroyed, surely it would not occur to
anyone to argue against that terrible news being the
lead story on all news broadcasts, all front pages.
No one, on any editorial board,
or in any radio or television studio, would object
if the news of those 12,000 dead children dominated
all the headlines and columns, opinions and reports,
photos and testimonies.
No public figure would miss the
opportunity to refer to such a dramatic event and to
proclaim that a similar disaster must never happen
again.
If an earthquake hit a country or
a tsunami unexpectedly slammed into a coastline
killing 12,000 children, no one in the media would
dare suggest that such a terrible disaster should
yield the spotlight to a soccer game, for example,
or the illness of a popular singer. No police chief
or religious leader in the world would fail to
display his or her dismay over the incident, and
every government or humanitarian aid agency would
mobilize their resources.
If a terrorist gang kidnapped
12,000 children and threatened to execute the
hostages if their demands were not met within 24
hours, every plaza in the world would be full of
people clamoring for the release of the victims, not
one person would be indifferent to the possible fate
of these children.
Nevertheless, every day, each
time we wake up, 12,000 more children have died. Not
from the tsunami that didn’t happen yesterday, or
from the tower that didn’t collapse, or from the
terrorist gang that doesn’t exist; these 12,000
children have died of starvation, of simple and
wretched starvation. And starvation and its
miserable consequences are not news.
Audiences would get tired —says
the media director— of a fixed eight columns, every
day, in which the only variable would be the
increasing tally.
There is no way that these 12,000
dead would merit a brief headline, a lamenting
feature, or even a summary in the section “Strange
World.”
Neither does the opportunity
exist to commemorate anniversaries because every day
the deaths and their causes reoccur, so every day is
both a tragedy and an anniversary of the same
misfortune.
Twelve thousand boys and girls
who have died between breakfast and dinner, between
the morning paper and the evening news.
And we are only talking about
starvation. There are many other buildings that fall
every day for related reasons: tsunamis of illnesses
for which vaccines can not be acquired, earthquakes
that demolish schools and playgrounds, terrorist
bands that enrich themselves by exploiting child
labor and prostitution.
And we are only talking about
children.
But not one plaza has filled with
people to condemn a crime that does not cease being
a crime because of its repetition, neither has any
one of the media outlets that have covered similar
attacks, interrupted its regular programming to give
“live and direct”, up to the minute on the spot
coverage with a correspondent adjusting the totals
of dead and disappeared and interviewing neighbors,
before the broadcast turns back to the studios and
yields to another barrage of commercials.
According to a United Nations
report, “every seven seconds a child dies from
starvation.” About 12,000 per day.
The
press would need several special editions or have to
add 60 more pages to each edition in order to
superficially report the names, which they have;
their faces, which are real; and the agonized and
despairing families of those 12,000 cadavers who
have no mourners nor headlines, no history, for whom
no one organizes anniversary masses or tributes.
These 12,000 little ones dead each day at the hands
of a rotten economic order sold to us as progress,
whose laws protect the solidity of its immune
building, and which terrorizes via its monetary
gangs the deposed government of life.