Tag: revolution

Should I stay or should I go?

Posted on by Leontien Reedijk

Image by tookapic on Pixabay

   My (R)evolution, part 6.

Living the dream ain’t always easy, I tell you. Even in times of peace, there were things in our tropical island life that we’d jokingly complain about. The amount of curious questions we repeatedly have to answer, is one of them. (I dedicated a separate page to these FAQ’s on my website, in case you’re getting curious now too).

One of the questions asked many times is: “Are you here for good?”

“No” has always been my honest and wholehearted answer. “But I have no idea when I will leave.”

Before, when asked what could be a reason for me to leave this little island off the coast of Nicaragua—a country now on the verge of another revolution—I’d would sum up this short list:

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Stock up?

Posted on by Leontien Reedijk

Image by bierfritze on Pixabay

  My (R)evolution, part 5.

Since April 19 of this year Nicaragua, the country where I’ve been living for the past 13 years, is in a state of social unrest and political upheaval that it hadn’t seen for several decades.

For a while I was playing ostrich. I didn’t look at the news, even though I knew more or less what was on it. I didn’t talk that much with friends about the situation on the mainland, as if silence could make the problem go away or at least not seem so serious and big. On our little peaceful island, we were hoping for the best, pretending that we could sit this out.

Basically, I was in denial.

Until I heard about the road blocks. Barricades on most highways were seriously blocking all traffic, affecting the transport of all our supplies.

On Monday the news got to our island that next Saturday the freight boat that brings everything we need, from tomatoes to toilet paper, from peppers to propane, would not be coming.

Now that was news I needed to keep up with…

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Bird of Paradise.

Posted on by Leontien Reedijk

President Ortega and his wife, vice-president Rosario Murillo.

MY (R)EVOLUTION, PART 4.

The young didn’t know,

but deep within their spirits

a desire was burning,

a fire

lit by their parents

and grandparents too.

 

A fire sparking

a will to be free,

feeding an urge

to stand up and fight.

Fight for their right

to be human

to be safe to be alive,

unknown to the puppet on strings

pulled by dark madness

dressed up with the feathers

of a bird of paradise,

lost in a reality that isn’t theirs.

 

Paradise lost in the eddying vortex

of power and greed.

 

The young don’t remember

but they fight for their future

driven by the dreams of their old

to be human

to be safe

to be free

to be alive

 

Because real life cannot exist in the grip of steel,

dressed up in the colours of a bird of paradise.

 

This is part 4 in the series My (R)evolution, reporting from a country in chaos, trying to make sense of my own mind.

Find other episodes here.

 

This poem has also been published on Medium.com.