31 October, 2020

No Noahs In Irrawaddy

The junta compounds the horrors brought on by the cyclone

No Noahs In Irrawaddy

The stench of death blows across the vast flooded plains of the Irrawaddy delta. It's not a faint smell that creeps up on you. It suddenly hits you in the face, filling your mouth and nose, smothering your senses. And it assaults those in the delta even now, weeks after Cyclone Nargis smashed into the coastline. The stench should have been banished. Instead, the bodies of the lost lie amongst the living. They rot into the water supply, poisoning the people left behind. The rituals and traditions, which help bind this society in times of mourning, have been broken by a government that left communities to their fate. The dead have received attention only from the birds.

Imagine waking up each day next to the bloated corpse of your mother, husband, wife or child; meeting each day with the hope of help but going to bed knowing no one is coming; watching your child go hungry, your wounds fester, and your loved ones moulder away before you. This is what...



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