
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.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Material should not be published in another periodical before at least one year has elapsed since publication in Whispering Dialogue. *أن لا يكون النص قد تم نشره في أي صحيفة أو موقع أليكتروني على الأقل (لمدة سنة) من تاريخ النشر. *All content © 2021 Whispering Dialogue or respective authors and publishers, and may not be used elsewhere without written permission. جميع الحقوق محفوظة للناشر الرسمي لدورية (هَمْس الحِوار) Whispering Dialogue ولا يجوز إعادة النشر في أيّة دورية أخرى دون أخذ الإذن من الناشر مع الشكر الجزيل