A busy day ... ... was born fourteen years ago "The Yumy" ... ninth child of a family that was completed after twelve shoots ....
Survived in a settlement (close of this cultured city) .. back payments " La Matanza" (strong name! If any ... ..) ... without water ... without decent housing without the indispensable ... ...
The Yumy never had national identity ... was not a citizen .... at least legally speaking. It showed
much less than the real age! Was physically the type of 11 years ....
No school was ever ... Ever! Rare
... right? So close to ours. So close to this booming city .... Yet there are human beings .... no proper name ... no education ... without knowing what rights have ....
But he had something very valuable: a best friend! ! If you have identity, Matias called ... and they were like brothers ... Mati's mom ... (Loly) loved him like a son to Yumy .. ..! offered him affection and was willing to take to get the document!.
.. This young boy helped his neighbors, build boxes, errands. Was supportive.
His eyes always looked to the horizon ...
Maybe looking for something .... Or see farther than the other .... O envisioned a dream .. ...
The Yumy a few days ago, near the date of the Magi .. got sick and went .... in the same way he lived ¿?...
Nameless and school ... well ... silently ... invisible in this society at this time ....
Maybe one day we understand that whatever happens to the "Other" it happens to "Nos.otros" ... at some level ... ..
This is my humble tribute to a child ... invisible ... unknown ... That not be news for any reason, you will not receive honors of any kind, which will remain in the retina and in the soul of some beings, is missing in the life of his best friend ... and will live strong in the hearts of many ... here cerquita just ... for payments ... " La Matanza " ....
"The Nobodies" ...
Eduardo Galeano
Fleas dream of buying a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty, that one magical day suddenly rain down good luck, it pours good luck, but good luck not rain yesterday, not today, not tomorrow, not ever, or drizzle falls from the sky good luck, even that no one calls and although they chop the left hand, or lift the right foot, or start the year getting broom.
The nobodies: the sons of nobodies, the owners of nothing.
The nobodies: the no, the no, running Hare, dying through life, screwed rejodidos:
Who are not, but could be.
Do not speak languages, but dialects.
Not religions, but superstitions.
It do not make art, but handicrafts.
Do not have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Do not have faces, but arms.
Do not have a name, but numbers. Not
contained in the universal history, but in the crime reports in the local press.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.
The nobodies: the sons of nobodies, the owners of nothing.
The nobodies: the no, the no, running Hare, dying through life, screwed rejodidos:
Who are not, but could be.
Do not speak languages, but dialects.
Not religions, but superstitions.
It do not make art, but handicrafts.
Do not have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Do not have faces, but arms.
Do not have a name, but numbers. Not
contained in the universal history, but in the crime reports in the local press.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.
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