A Road Not Taken, By Lerone Bennett Jr.
“A nation is a choice. It chooses itself at fateful forks in the road by turning left or right, by giving up something or taking something — and in the giving up and the taking, in the deciding and not deciding, the nation becomes.
And ever afterwards, the nation and the people who make up the nation are defined by the fork and by the decision that was made there, as well as by the decision that was not made there. For the decision, once made, engraves itself into the landscape, engraves itself into things, into institutions, nerves, muscles, tendons; and the first decision requires a second decision, and the second decision requires a third, and it goes on and on, spiraling in an inexorable processus which distorts everything and alienates everybody.”
One of the most memorable articles we read was this piece, which offers another side to the reason why slavery existed in America. We hope you enjoy. And it is better read here.
Luckily she’s been fired.
Episode 3: Looking for 243 people who disappeared crossing the Mediterranean, we uncovered the shocking reality of what happens to those who perish at sea.
Fanus, a young Eritrean woman, crossed from Libya to Italy on a boat with more than 500 people on board in October 2013. She was asleep, packed with hundreds of others into the hull of the ship, when it started to sink.
“I remember waking up in water not knowing what was happening, and I tried to swim but I couldn’t. I started paddling like a dog. The more I paddled, the more I felt I was sinking,” she said.
“I didn’t see anyone moving; all I saw was lots of bodies floating and none of them moved. I then saw a young man grabbing me hard on my neck. I then understood that we are sinking, both of us, and I had no choice but to fight him to let me go. I looked back and couldn’t see him.”
“Everywhere I looked I saw dead people or people drowning in front of my eyes. Some were screaming, some praying, some saying their names, who their families are, where in Eritrea they were from, messages to their loved ones. I kept hearing the noises; the sound of screaming and crying, the shouting, the screaming went on and on again. I could see mothers holding up their children till they couldn’t hold them anymore. I cried, looking at the bodies of the people I knew… The worst scene I can remember from that time is the floating bodies of infants, children.”
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