Thoughts on the global economic crises and those left behind.
I just read an article from a highly prominent writer in this space.
In his post, he delves deep into the economic and political crisis which has engulfed his country and is threatening to render an entity which has only emerged from decades of civil war into a completely failed state.
In his characteristically clear, powerful and inimitable style, we get to Sri Lanka through his eyes and we feel as though we are active participants in the strife that is currently taking place out there; as though we were the ones plumbing depths of despair and despondency as life takes a turn for the worse with every passing minute, hour and day.
Believe me, indi.ca is that good.
But we must pose a few very important questions:
What about those who don’t have the erudition or the education to seek new opportunities elsewhere?
What about those who do not have the economic means to up and leave whenever they want to?
Who speaks on their behalf?
How will they find the words to give power to the sheer helplessness of their material condition?
I ask these questions not to excoriate the author but to acknowledge the privileges that we enjoy, despite our denials to the contrary.
And I must point out that I am incredibly guilty here.
I am British born and educated with a number of degrees to my name. In 2013, I moved to Lagos to work for a multi-national and I earned what you might describe as a very decent wage.
In February 2020, just before the pandemic reared its ugly head, I was dismissed from my position as company COO without warning.
As difficult as it may have been at the time, I had access to funds which ensured that I endured no hardships.
What’s more, I got on the plane and promptly returned to London, England and got on with my life as though nothing happened.
Since 2020, life has got quite shitty (excuse my French) for tens of millions of Nigerians.