Compassion demands Action

By Haben Zeray

Compassion is that which makes the heart of the good move at the pain of others. It crushes and destroys the pain of others; thus, it is called compassion. It is called compassion because it shelters and embraces the distressed. – The Buddha.

The etymology of “compassion” is Latin, meaning “co-suffering” ,  thus a  “compassionate” person would be someone who participates in the suffering of others.   Jesus summed up compassion by prompting us for action and said, “ Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy”.   But most of all his teachings and  live examples were, to identify with the poor, to help and visit the imprisoned, to heal the sick and uplift the depressed. These are acts of compassion.  It is contradictory to say you are a “Christian” and not have a compassionate heart: it is Impossible, without  compassion  you are just pretending.  Further, moralists summed up compassion by giving us the ethical expression of, “Do to others what you would have them do to you”.  The Muslim scriptures urge compassion towards captives as well as to widows, orphans and the poor. To help the poor and needy, is obligatory upon all Muslims.

The following  small poem or statement is dedicated to all the prisoners in Eritrea who are suffering every minute of the day and who need our “co-suffering” or compassion.  As Eritrea is celebrating independence day, I cannot help it but think of those who are in Eritrean prisons, and the irony is many of these prisoners who are suffering right now were ones who fought to bring this same independence.  For independence to work the people must be free.

WARNING:         If this poem does not rhyme it just means you have a perfect English accent. I don’t!

The prisoner’s diary

One bullet you are dead in a hurry

Would be a gift in the land of the furry.

You rise at 5:00 am for interrogation

Tied on a tree, beaten to bleed with no justification.

Thrown back into the cell for the tears to dry

Though there is no energy left to vent and cry.

At 8:00 am we are herded to the field

Unable to walk for my feet are full of wound.

Gets pushed and shoved by the frustrated guard

Hurry! He shouts and beats me hard.

All this to answer the call of nature

The gun on my head and continuous torture.

I go back to my cell and find it ten degrees hotter,

The weather cooperates with the frustrated soldier.

Water please! I cry with a dry throat,

A cup of tea with a crumb of bread is what he brought.

Sweat all over with pain and agony,

Flat on my face I wished for slavery.

Broken spirit with a lost dignity

I am confused completely with their cruelty.

What did I do? What is my fault?

Could it be what I said or wrote?

But what if I say anything or I write?

Isn’t  It too much already when I lost my sight?

This goes beyond the physical torture

All the struggle since 1974

Sad incomprehensible closure.

Prohibited to talk,

No media to ask.

Mental anguish inside

Suicide?

NO way, not today.

There is hope someday.

What if the gallant soldiers open the prison doors

To declare me innocent and heal my aching sores

The people are compassionate surely they can’t be passive,

They must be organizing freedom to achieve,

So Suicide?

No way, not today,

There is hope someday.

It is now 8 pm I can feel the chill in my bones

Sleeping on the floor with pillow stones.

Ten years of interrogation

Ten years of submission

Slow torturous murder

Let it be! I shall not surrender.

I wish:

One bullet you are dead in a hurry

Would be a gift in the land of the furry.

 

This suffering will continue unless our activists, moral leaders and religious leaders begin to act and decide to “co-suffer” by collectively marching to the gates of PFDJ and courageously oppose these human imprisonments without any court proceedings.  Compassion demands action.