Who will hear my cry for help?
Family?
My parents say I am now of age, and I’m no longer their problem. There’s only so much we can do for you, my father seconds her. Whenever things are rosy, I’m expected to send something back home. If I don’t, I’m considered ungrateful, stingy, and a bad child. Aunts and Uncles I’ve never seen come telling me stories of how the carried me when I was a child, and expect their share. Bu now I’m in trouble, and everyone carries on with their lives. I’m only good enough to receive from, but not to give to.
Who will hear my cry for help?
Friends?
A friend in need is a friend indeed, but that only works in the stories. Only a few friends can really help you when you’re in need, and unfortunately, none of them are available. Read-but-not-replied chats and missed calls adorn my phone, reminding me of the true meaning of friendship. I curse my luck and make a mental note to get better friends…
Who will hear my cry for help?
The Government?
The politicians scoff as they see my articles and comments on newspapers and social media. I’m only useful when they try to persuade me to vote them with gentle words written by secretaries and little gifts here and there. Manifestos abound with promises of a better life and future. But when they’re in, it’s every man for himself. No jobs, No schools, No hospitals, No money. The only Yes associated with them is from the sycophants around them who tell them what they want to hear.
Who will hear my cry for help?
Silence.
I finally discover the answer after some thinking. Me. Myself. I. Nobody else can really help me but myself. I clean my tears and pick up the pieces as I get back to work.
I was going to tell you that only can hear your call for help, but glad you discover it. Only us can save ourselves from misery, from troubles and pains it's only up to us how we handle things. Ourselves is our greatest comrades that we have to acknowledge.