Rewild Ethos

Happy Labor Day?

​You’ve come to wish me a 'Happy Labor Day'?

Wait! First, look at these crumbling walls of my home, where the exposed poverty peeking through the cracks bears witness to the tireless struggles of my ancestors. Look at these hands, as hard as stone, which can extract gold from the soil but lack the power today to bring medicine from the city for my fever-stricken child. 💊
​For you, today might be a day of 'holidays,' 'celebrations,' and 'speeches,' but in my fate, there is only the same scorching sun, sweat, and a piece of dry bread with black tea. ☕🍞
When the children of the farmer whose blood adorns your dining tables are wailing in hunger, your congratulations feel like nothing but a taunt.
​Tell me, how should I respond?
​Should I accept that, like me, my son will also bury his youth in this same soil?
​Is labor the jewel on my forehead, or is it the chain that has shackled my generations in this prison of hopelessness? ⛓️
My day will only come when my child’s breaths are no longer dependent on medicine. Until then, your 'Happy Labor Day' is nothing but a silent mourning for me." 🤐