The Roma of the Mitrovica camps are still suffering the
effects of the lead poisoning, and reading through "UNleaded Blood" by Paul Polansky, I came upon the touching words of a woman Ferdana, who though she was losing her family slowly, still had the grace to tell Polansky she worried the reporters and aid workers who flew in and flew out would suffer from the lead too.
Such compassion for others in the face of such adversity... my prayer tonight and today is let me have the grace of Ferdana...
Let that prayer be yours too.
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Her children are slowly dying,
Others, twenty seven* or so, are dead,
How can she cope, in a camp without hope,
Where all are being poisoned by lead?
Not all dying are young, though young enough,
Vekbi, at 26 yars, is but one name,
His surname I cannot remember,
For safety, and to live, to this camp he came...
Surviced by his three kids,
His wife is six months gone with child,
His brother too now sick, maybe he’ll also die,
Through their greif and their tears theyve smiled...
Some no longer believe in God,
If God was good, how could this be?
Some still believe throiugh blind faith,
Without faith, no hope or future can they see.
And in the midst of all this suffering,
This grave injustice that they see,
One woman, Ferdana, says "What about you who bring us aid?
I worry you’ve lead laden blood too."
* The current toll as of 2010 is 89 and rising. Number above was at the time the poem was written.
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