Saturday, 16 August 2014

TOO HIGH A PRICE (declamation)


Oh Joey, Joey, Joey, You're dead. This cannot be. Heavens! I can't believe it. He is still too young to die. Joey, No, no. Joey is now dead, gone.

My kid bother is gone. He died of poisoning and this can happen to any of you. Listen.

No, no never, over my dead body. you cannot sell that piece of land. That has been the land cultivated by my father's father. That's the very means I sweated my blood on to send you all to college. Never. That  was the firm and final say of Lolo regarding a two-hectare rice field right after the Taiwanese factory in our small barrio. That happened some two years ago. Joey and I were still small but we understood how much that piece of land meant to Lolo. After his death dad in exchange for a fat sum money traded it just the same.
Now with this, gone are the green pastures and the rich vegetation with an equally fresh river where fish used to swim.Gone is the vast habitat of the birds and their young ones. Gone is the fresh air which abounds plenty.

But with Dad got a fabulous L-300, a luxurious dwelling and a big savings account to several figures. Joey and I still miss the fruits bearing garden, the lovely little hill of wild flowers and small fish pond where we usually spent our time fishing. All of these gone, occupied by the Taiwanese factory now. All left to us is a small lot given to lolo's caretaker where Joey and I still go for a visit.

The fresh dancing water is no longer free from pollution; aquatic lives start to die. Toxic materials coming from factory flow freely to the river, poisoning every creature depending on it.

And worst of all, that pitiful Saturday morning, Joey my kid brother, brought home a big mud fish. He had it cleaned and broiled it. He had just finished a few bites when he felt unusual all over himself. He felt splash of warmth all over his body; his face reddened as he writhed in pain. We all panicked at the sight of a young helpless boy dying of toxic. How he cried in anguish, and how Mom shouted in despair. But all were to no avail. Joey had to go, my only brother had to leave, so fast, so swift.

Yest that piece of land lolo refused to sell, that piece of land is now polluted. It brought Dad a big sum but a more precious one: joey's life was taken. It gave us L-300 but it could not even be in service when joey needed it most. That big sum! Never did it cross Dad's mind that such cannot even buy Joey's life. dad paid too high a price.

Now ladies and gentlemen, ia this what you call progress. . . . . .development over our own welfare and safety? Enough is enough, you all cheat. nothing can compensate for the clean fresh air we breath, it is now mixed with unsafe one coming from the chimney of that factory. Nothing can ever replace the clean river where we used to fish, now damaged by factory waste; nothing can ever pay the silence we are deadened by the day-in and day-out sound of the grinding machine. . . . .Nothing and Joey paid all these with his young life.

My friends, dear everyone, give this a thought, a serious kind:In your decision to give us the best, we consequently suffer. In your desire to provide us education we miss the most.

Please stop the killing. How many Joey's will pay for this?

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