Human Rights Stories about poor and rich

Let's face it frankly, okay?
Inequality was a state of affairs.
It was persecuted, sought with enthusiasm and commitment, I would say with extreme dedication.
Then, to be defended at all costs, as could be done with civil rights or democracy, in a naive story of romantic visions.
As proof of that, the most portentous claim didn’t concern the real distribution of fortunes, more or less lawfully earned, but the nature of the present and the future which the various citizens chose to commit their time for.

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Human Rights Stories of modern slaves

Once upon a time there was a house as big as the world is.
Like any self-respecting home, worthy of a prime time spot, or a smiling box office movie, it was made up of rooms.
The rooms, despite someone is still claiming for the contrary, were inhabited by occupants of a purely transitory nature, like the clouds that sometimes cover the sky. You can easily see that the drawings are never the same and those who say otherwise are blind, or want to blind others.
In one room, the inhabitants from the terminal
Photo by National Crime Agency
eternity nourished the fruits of the earth, of every form and color, declared taste or temporally fashion, vegetable or animal conception without any solution of continuity.

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Human Rights Stories about Apartheid

Rejoice.
I’m talking to you, my friend, that present time's law murders with deafening ease, and modern chronicle’s silence humiliates to the most obstinate recess of your soul.
Exult, since the unjust hourglass has a heart.
A slow and awkward one, but it beats.
Incredible in its pervading obsession in moving from the most servile side of the balance, the one where unqualified it polishes the golden wheels of the triumphal chariot.
Despite that, it has a logic, from this day.

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Human Rights Stories of poverty and hunger

The World Health Organization and the World Bank declared yesterday that almost one hundred million people in the world are forced every year to daily choose between health and food, education and basic necessities.
For the rest of humanity, a hundred is just a number, as well as a million times as much.
Greatness doesn’t matter, unless it’s one and that one is you.
In this case, I choose, each day, each week.
Monday I ate, yes, I had to, I couldn’t help it.
A little and with joy, with extreme calm and attention to every crumb that could run away.

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Human Rights Stories about women in Saudi Arabia

I.
Yes but…
I can.
Okay, but...
I can drive.
Certainly you can, however...
However, before you take breathe and steal time and page, I start and look for the horizon still to fill.
With one eye on tomorrow, the dreamed oasis, on the shore touched just within my imagination.
At the same time, the other half of my heart rejoices, staring at the missing rest that makes vibrating my chest and rubbing my hair.
Yes I can.

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Human Rights Stories about Nobel Peace Prize

Look at Aung San Suu Kyi, and see how she contradicts herself and every principle that has made her a symbol of the whole world, showing an insensitivity worthy of the worst politician before the sufferings of the Rohingya, an unlucky minority imprisoned inside a brutal majority.
Do you think it's all accidental?
Do you think it's just an amazing paradox?
It would be nice, always paradoxically, obviously, because that’s a well-reputed and repetitive plot in the script of the so-called upper species.
Look, in fact, and see.

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Human Rights Stories about playing kids

Take away and see.
Erase and hope.
Turn it off and wait.
Back and forth, like a dance stealing life or lighting it up.
Right and duty of each soul at the start of the journey.
The magic of a hand that could create and destroy, without any guarantee of eternity.
Take the game away from anyone who would have all the seriousness of the world to appreciate it and respect it, and you will see. You will see someone who will have no consideration for any supposed concreteness of your life, because he could never give it a delicate form in his own mind.

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Human Rights Stories of war and peace

Once upon a time there was the innocent until proven otherwise.
Ignoring the facts, until a disadvantageous phone tapping came out.
Accountable for them, but times were different, isn’t it?
You cannot judge the past, some say, because you cannot change it.
But you can listen to it.
The swish of the yellowed pages that suffocates under the weight of a confused present, seem to rumble, at a very first glance.
It sounds like astride ravings spoken in a dead language, if you relate it to the simultaneous chatter which, within a click, we condemn the fate of whole peoples with.
However, if you can just tilt the digital hourglass, you could follow the accusing finger that accuses the usual, peaceful coexistence’s serial killer.

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Human Rights Stories from Africa

Quickly.
I have to be quick before it's too late.
Before I get used to the thing, and it will decide to stay.
The thing, yes, I don’t have to give it a name, otherwise it gets familiar, close, mine.
I cannot afford it, not now, not me.
And what can I do?
Here it is, I look at it for a moment, with strictly fixed-term feelings and thoughts.
A woman burying an only three years life under a bush.
Done.

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Human Rights Stories of World Hunger

Once upon a time there was a story.
A short one, don’t worry.
Indeed, what do we really have to worry about?
It takes a little, believe me.
Five minutes, six at the most.
This is the time I've used to write it.
Nothing, isn’t it?
And when time is zero, what's the problem?
Yes, seriously, what is it?
Anyway, you’ll need less to read it.
Two minutes, one and a half to be quick, just one for those with fast eye and easy brain. Which may also mean light, but without offense, trust me.

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Human Rights Stories of poor kids

Hildur is five years old.
Souley too.
Hildur is a child.
Also Souley, but life is strange, isn’t it?
Almost like stories, right?
Hildur closes his eyes and dreams of things.
Souley dreams, period.
Hildur looks at his continent from the north, or above.
Souley looks at the world neither from south nor below.
Because his world is all there, before him, made of visions and hopes, however naïve.
Hildur plays.
Souley plays.

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