…in Savar and killed at least 100 people. Injured hundreds. More still trapped.
The building cracked yesterday. The workers didn’t want to go in there today. They were forced to.
I don’t know why I write these words. I didn’t write anything about the Boston Marathon incident. Or the little 5 year old girl in Delhi. Not that anything is ever comparable to any other thing. I told myself I can’t write one of these inane, useless posts every time, because they are so inane and useless. I suppose this is my version of the status updates that are probably going all over Facebook right now.
I don’t know.
Tomorrow, I will begin to look into the structure of what is done for labour rights in the garments industry in Bangladesh, to figure out what I can do. Knowing how I need to drop all my rage somewhere, this probably means I will just be at a lot of protests in the next few days, but I am writing these words to hold myself to doing more than that. Maybe there is a place for me. Maybe I can use my knowledge of English. Or KPR. Or something. Anything. I am tired of my own and everyone else’s inane, useless words.
I am going to ask the question, “What am I supposed to do?” to everyone I know. Maybe someone knows.
Please tell me, if you know.