I put here a text by Fernando Cardenal, the book next to my village, with its revolution.
I was very impressed. I hope you do too the lives of the poor makes you think and thank each and every time the gift that gives us life without having done anything to deserve them.
Once arrived at my house a neighbor around 10 at night, desperate and drowning in tears, asked me to take her to the hospital with her daughter Jess, a few months old, because told me, he died. Unfortunately she was dead. Could no longer do anything for his life. Then went home. The girl's mother lives with her mother. The house has one room and a corridor. There lives la abuela y sus cuatro hijos, dos de ellos con sus esposas y sus respectivos hijos, total, catorce personas. Algunos de los chavalos sacan cartones del cuarto y duermen en el corredor. El papá de Jessenia carga bultos en el mercado Roberto Huembes, y el otro hijo casado, lisiado de guerra, cuida carros en el mercado Oriental. En el corredor de la casa hay tres pupitres destartalados para sentarse, pero no hay ni una mesa para poner el cadáver de la tiernita durante la vela. La abuela la tuvo cargada en sus brazos deshecha en llanto. Nadie en el barrio se dio cuenta de nada. Algunas de las calles son muy oscuras y así nos fuimos a buscar un carpintero que nos quisiera hacer un pequeño ataúd para la niña. Cada paso en la vida de los pobres es difícil. There was also to find where and how to bury.
A neighbor noticed the death. They were all asleep. Everything in the neighborhood was quiet. It felt like the deepest loneliness and abandonment of the family. In the dead girl did me many ideas on how people live in the neighborhood. Death is the end of a process that begins with unemployment and ends in death. Is the logical end.
That night I felt that this child was dead as a symbol of orphanhood and abandonment in which the poor live in the slums of Managua. According to CID Gallup poll at the time, only seven percent of respondents were covered by social insurance. On the other hand we know that 47% of Nicaraguans are on unemployment or underemployment, that is, without any insurance. Alike are domestic workers, peasants, laborers, artisans and many others. But even the insured are not all covered services and, furthermore, only the most common drugs are paid by social insurance.
That night, along with Jess's family, I thought that the most serious of all the poor suffering from insecurity. They have no security if they can get food for their children the next day or medication if they get sick. Insecurity for theft and crime. Many of them are not very rule of their plot of land titles, or do not have them all. Uncertainty of each month to pay water and light. Beginning of each semester brings the anguish of not knowing how to get everything you need to put the children back to school. Insecurity before the onset of winter they do not know how they can get zinc to replace the roof that lets all the water and cement to make up the bottom of the home that are flooded every time it rains. Due to the important problems in their lives are lonely, helpless, helpless, insecure.
Thinking
insecurity, it seemed that one of the few securities that have is knowing they never will substantially improve the living standards that are being now know they have no studies and it is very difficult to get employment. The only things really are changing are the prices of basic goods and public services. This leads sometimes to despair. A neighbor still quite young, unemployed and whose husband gets only occasional work, she almost constant pain in the brain, (they call the pain in the back of the brain), with gastritis and teeth destroyed, told me a few days you do not see hope for change for your life anywhere, "I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of living," he said sadly.
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