Ebola 12. The Mali Border.

I saw this photo first yesterday, on BBC.  It has been haunting me; literally; ever since.  I've been on and off about whether to share it here; it seems to have mostly vanished from the media feeds; I would guess because it is too disturbing; thought provoking, bottom of the pit sad, and frightening.

The file I uploaded is high enough resolution for full screen; get it big enough so you can really see it.

My narrative:  This beautiful woman has dressed up, neat and lovely in her good clothes; for a day in town.  A treat, pretty certainly.  She has put worries aside, for just a little while.

Then she is abruptly confronted.  Required to stand still and be monitored.

To see if she is going to be the next to die.



She knows she needs to stand, for the good of all.  She stands.  She wishes she could run away from the muzzle of the thermometer; which feels like a gun; though she knows perfectly well it isn't.

She can't run; there isn't anywhere to run.  She has already seen death, or knows it is coming closer every day; and there is nothing to do; but stand.  And wait.


I find the panic in our press and among our officials offensive beyond belief.  These people on the Mali border are not panicked.  They're doing all they can to cope; and live, while they can.

With nothing but words from the rest of the world, to help them.  She knows.

I have a lot of contempt boiling inside these days, too.

She haunts me.