Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

Reposted from http://rcm0811.blogspot.com/
November 14, 2014, after Supertyphoon Yolanda transformed the Visayas into the Land of the Living Dead

Where have all the flowers gone?

This is a familiar tune. According to Wikipedia.com, Peter Seeger wrote the first three lines of the song in 1955. Joe Hickerson added the additional verses in 1960. Later, the song “Where Have all the Flowers Gone” has earned political undertones because of its indictment against wars.


Courtesy of GMA Network


The flowers of the Visayas are gone. Strong winds and raging floods plucked them from the Visayan soil. No longer could young girls pick them up. They are gone. The good land that nourished them has become a desolate zombie land for those who are left breathing after the storm. And with the flowers gone, graveyards become a better sight than the open space which the tempest left behind.



Courtesy of Youtube.com

Dead bodies are everywhere. Of course, the dead cannot bury the dead and so, they all lay bare in the streets. Breathing people walk but the paralysis that afflicted them is more than the rigor mortis in the faces of those who have died. Thus, nobody cares anymore to wash and bury their dead.

Statistics? The dead do not make them as only the living could make the count. Observers hinted that there are more than ten thousands while the government claimed that dead bodies are a couple of thousand only. But if the count is only about a thousand or two, then, why could not the government bury the dead with dispatch?

Where have all the young girls gone?

Young girls are missing. Make no mistake about it. Small women who survived are not young girls—at least, not anymore. Despair and hopelessness had robbed them of their innocence. They have aged in days. They could no longer dream of flowers and fairy tales. They no longer hope for fine boys to make them feel special. They could only think of food and water and of the dead in their families.

There they are—hungry and helpless—waiting for the sun to come and dry their tears. There they are—breathing, yet so dead in hope and smile. In their minds, they see a world that stands still in the middle of a void.

The typhoon has passed but the tragedy continues.

Calamity seems nothing compared to the blackness that ensued when the calm took over. Hopelessness is so pervasive that the victims felt that living seems less preferable to extinction. Help is so slow that people are driven to reckless despair and insanity. And authority is so absent that people thought that everything is free for the taking.

Indeed, the days that followed proved that people could weather any storm but not the incompetence of the officials that rule over them. They suffer because of their doing. The typhoon may have come from the remotest part of the world but the disaster that continues to destroy people’s lives has risen up from their collective will. This is the pestilence that kills the flower in the hearts of the young. This is the disease that dissipates the hope in the minds of the hopefuls. This is the disaster that people perpetrate despite of their power to end it. This is the tragedy upon us all.

When will we ever learn?


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