Xenophobia Outdated


I sit on the bus. All eyes on phones, ears plug into a different reality. Taking people away from this moment – that is – on the bus.

A mother with her young daughter, sits, close. I watch, admire her conversing, smiling, laughing ever so lightly with her child. The child’s eyes posses a look of adoration and love, reserved only for a mother. The mother caresses the girl with a touch only given by a mother. I am struck by the striking resemblance they share. Chocolate drop full of colour sitting in tear-drop shaped eyes, plush full lips, clear olive skin someone like myself has only ever dreamed of.

A woman, across the isle, middle age, angry. Scowls at the mother and daughter, tutts, shakes her head. Restless in her seat she murmurs, under her breath, yet distinct enough for all to hear.

‘Go back home, we don’t want you here,’ she continues her angry delusion. 

The mother hears, she must have heard, everybody else in the bus has noticed the sudden shift in mood, energy, feeling. Eyes cast down the isle, jumping back and forth between mother and angry woman. Anticipating what will unfold. Questioning how brave they may of may not have to be, better to stay silent, pretend they don’t know or see the difference between right and wrong.

The mother she does not bat an eyelid,refusing to engage the angry woman.Apparently she has experience with this from of behaviour. Instead choosing to sing a lullaby to her daughter in her native language. I cannot understand.

She is dousing out the volumes hatred. Rightly so. No child deserves to be privy to this kind of alienation born out of fear, ignorance, stupidity.

The mother wears a headscarf, from my angle I notice how it accentuates her innate strength and  beauty. I wish to translate for my own learning, what it is the angry woman notices in the head scarf. Perhaps even see for myself the path the angry woman has travelled to make her behave in a way reserved only for neanderthals.

This reality, here on the bus, tells me I am living in the twenty first century. The human race believes it is smart, clever —yet we lack to understand the deep connection to each other, well, some do.

But tell me do the others ‘choose’ to be ignorant? Is it a considered choice? None of it makes sense to me.


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