The woman stumbled, fell forward and died, baby in her arms, inches from food.
"How could that happen?" my friend asked "was there no one to help?"
I bit my tongue.
There were the aid workers with food.
There was the man with the camera, tracking on her as she left the train, hope and strength almost gone.
There were her fellows in suffering.
But it suited none of their agendas to save her from death.
All of them cheered, whether they admitted it or not, as she became a dead woman walking, as her strength gave out, as she died mere feet, almost inches, from the food that would have saved her.
They were all complicit in her death, battening on it like any undead on the blood of the living.
Years ago a friend of mine wrote a poem inspired from seeing a video where this poor woman fell dead as described above. She was aghast that there was no one to help, and at how close the woman came to salvation.
This is my response. So very often someone's self immolation, their death, figurative or literal, serves the agendas of others. They hasten down a path that will consume them, and everyone they meet encourages their destruction because of the benefit they will gain from it, one way or another.
Remember that every time you see someone's life destroyed in the public sphere, in the public eye.