Why I find it hard to write about global matters

Lately I’ve been setting aside a lot of unfinished posts.

There is so much going on in the world, so much tragedy, so much secrecy uncovered, hypocrisy. My dad watches the news a lot. When I come home from school I see them, news reports, headlines, subtitles: 234 Nigerian school girls to be sold into marriage.

It’s cold and it’s straightforward. Obviously news broadcasters have to be fairly neutral. But this is how they break it to us every time:

Suicide bombing kills 23 – Chemical weapons found in Syria – Ship of refugees capsized – weather forecast: Sunny, 13 °C.

Maybe that’s why we go on YouTube at the end of the day to watch cat videos.

The news is depressing. This world is depressing. Humanity is depressing.

That’s my problem. Every time I attempt to write a serious post – I am actively avoiding the word “article” here – about a particular topic that is played out on a global scale, I drift off. It could be my disbelief of such stupidity in this world that makes me go all philosophical.

Last time I attempted to write a post on football – the working conditions in Qatar and the police violence in Brazil as well as the hypocrisy of it. Then I drifted off and I got so angry I almost broke my keyboard. Some keys are still a bit stuck. But there was no use publishing it. Nobody wants to read a post compiled of insults towards the world in capital lettres.

Maybe I am more tense than usual at the moment due to school and my exams  – yes, at my age this is a big thing – and due to other things, but when I turn on any type of medium and I see what awful thing has happened today it gets too much. This sounds selfish, I know, as it does not affect me personally.

I think I am simply scared by the high amount of ignorance in our world. Yes, there are people who work hard to make a difference, but I fear they are in the minority. Think about it; most of us have access to at least two different sources of information, usually three or four. The internet is limitless. Television, radio and newspapers may have to make a choice as to what they should broadcast, but the internet is really a way of getting information. It may not me accurate, but that’s what thinking is for.

So we have all this access and we try to be compassionate. Yet so many cries for help; protest actions around the world, simple exposure of scandals – most of them will go unheard.

This is an example I have used in several exams; politics and ethics, as far as I remember: Everybody witnessed the collapse of the factory building in Bangladesh. Everybody knew it was not a coincidence, that the security standards were awful as well as the working conditions and payment. The story was absolutely everywhere.

Still, everybody stormed the shops to get the latest fashion by Mango, Zara and Co.

We pretend it does not affect us, but it does. It affects me. This is why I say I am probably being selfish. I should write about these things. I don’t have the right to feel bad about these things. It’s what I say everytime a celebrity dies and all the “R.I.P. <>”‘s begin to take off; it is not our right to mourn if we did not even know this person.


But it is so easy to write a post of Facebook, expressing your sympathies or on WordPress, criticizing the rest of the world. And every time I hear of something terrible and I see that it has been forgotten again, I feel that we don’t deserve this planet. We don’t deserve to live, including myself.

Though I am a writer; it’s what I love, sometimes I think writing is not enough. Strong messages can go a very long way. They can encourage people to go down a path they may not have chosen on their own. But there are so many strong messages out there.

What a lot of non-profit organisations do is to campaign to raise awareness.

We are aware, most of us anyway. We know what is happening around us. We are not that stupid. But we choose to ignore it. But how could we not? It has become normal to talk about things, maybe, but then move on with your life. An annual donation to a charity could be seen as the modern version of religious indulgence. Yes, a charity does far more good than the catholic church did, but the principle is the same. Our conscience is clean.

But nothing really happens.

Me, I’m impulsive. I want things to happen fast. That’s why, when I lay awake at night and remember something I have to do, I have to do it. Sometimes I force myself to sleep, but I wish my impulses weren’t regulated by time or space – or money, for that matter.

In these last few years, especially spending a lot of time in Frankfurt, a big city with a lot of homeless people, I have developed the urge to help someone. Really help someone. I thought if I had the money I could finance a small place to stay for this individual, provide the help needed, assist getting back into a structured life and helping out with attaining a job.

And I always say I will do it once I am earning properly. But when will that be?
I’ve been told by a class mate that I am “a good person”, because I care. But I’m not sure that caring makes me a better person. I am not a good person because I post links to petitions on Facebook or because I donate blood and money. I am not a good person because I blog about other people being cruel and ignorant. This may not make me a bad person either, it simply makes me like everybody else.

I am not saying that everybody else has no heart. Obviously, everybody cares. We care about those closest to us, we make sacrifices for family and friends and we do a good deed every once in a while. We are not bad, but we are passive. And I don’t want to be passive.

So, when I get angry at the world writing a blog post on a global matter, I am really angry at myself, because I am not there, right there, helping. I have always thought I would maybe get more readers if I tackled sophisticated, global matters with information, details and an almost professional evaluation. But I’m afraid I will never be a journalist.

And I’m afraid that I will always talk and write, but never act.


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