Poem and illustration By marijo alba sánchez
Synopsis
This poem and the drawing are about the thousands of children between the ages of six and sixteen years who suffer exploitation in the mines in Africa. Child miners face serious abuse, among minors who are exploited are ex-combatants, street children, orphans, as a result of war, the young abandoned or separated from their families by force.
Powerful interests are imposed, from industrialists to governments, no one wants to delve a little further, the business is so profitable that it produces profits of 50 billion dollars a year (little compared to the performances of international drug trafficking and weapons industries)
***
My child has fever
to go down to the mine
his hands are tools
to set diamonds.
My child coughs
short bits of life
in a hole without oxygen
his small body fits.
My child is dying
his body dissolving
his blood is worn
on the rings
and crowns
of kings, queens and religions.
