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WW1 Centenary 2018 story

Dear ancestors,

These lyrics are for you, that in two dissimilar lands refreshed, detached by a sea whose waters turn out to be each day more and more confused.
In life you have never encountered, and thanks to the freedom of a sheet and particularly the occasion to write on it - which we should continuously be thankful of, I see you joined, maybe standing in a normal living room, animated by the feeling of the instant and from the unavoidable amount of reminiscences to be traded.
Between the many, the one that happened precisely in July 1914, only to end, for favorable luck of all the characters, just over four years after…

From Storie and News

Human Rights Stories of immigrants and faith

Thanks to a disturbingly eventuality the most racist governments on the issue of migration used to proclaim themselves as the most spiritual ones, including the new Italy administration.
A few days ago, I came in the Sanctuary of Rivotorto, in Umbria, and inside the so-called Hovel of Saint Francis of Assisi, even though knowing it, I read the Canticle of the Creatures, but with my actual eyes.
I am not a faith man, I tell you, but those arguments seemed to me further blessed, when modified to the necessities of the many mortified human creatures…

From Storie and News

Human rights stories from Haiti

Lovely Earth, I imagine to write you from Jalousie, Haitian slums.
Outside the limits of world’s insanity, we’re living by aptitude, we endure by need.
We create real tales, for the sake of those looking for us, on the skyline that will have the blessing to appreciate the next dawn.
After the quake, after the wicked look that the unpleasant dice called destiny presented us, we are here, well joined.
Therefore, while in your nations your leaders aren’t able to decide on the authority increased over hate and dishonesties, we attempt to study how to change the rules.
When it will occur, because it will do, don’t recognize us.
Give us comfort now…


From Storie and News

Human Rights Stories about Syria

The much exploited childish candor, unsuited to deal with the complexity of the global tangle of interests and power.
Otherwise, by facilitating the immature objection, you may find yourself in highly prohibited areas by government syntax.
Asking who manufactures chemical weapons and who finances them, who sells them and who protects their trade, who legislates in favour or just abstains hand and conscience.
This would lead to an unacceptable scenario for regime screenwriters.
The one based on the idea that things are much easier to understand than they seem.

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Human Righs Stories of Solidarity

Once upon a time there was a law.
An equal for all one, otherwise what are we talking about?
Yes, what, I've been wondering that for some time.
The law for all was simple: giving support to a criminal represents an equally prohibited act.
Therefore, I understand the burdens of a pious heart, brother, and I am aware of the uncomfortable symptoms of the good-natured virus, sister. Setting aside for a moment the famous dictates of the philosopher Agostino,
deservedly practiced by Martin Luther King, about nobility of disobedience to a norm considered inhuman, where you find yourself foraging someone, always remember to check his criminal fed. Note to listening Christians: see it as a sort of unavoidable amendment to the famous, evangelical Works of mercy, on quenching and feeding the derelicts.
For all the others, just remember that, period.

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Human Rights Stories about poor and rich

Let's face it frankly, okay?
Inequality was a state of affairs.
It was persecuted, sought with enthusiasm and commitment, I would say with extreme dedication.
Then, to be defended at all costs, as could be done with civil rights or democracy, in a naive story of romantic visions.
As proof of that, the most portentous claim didn’t concern the real distribution of fortunes, more or less lawfully earned, but the nature of the present and the future which the various citizens chose to commit their time for.

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Human Rights Stories of modern slaves

Once upon a time there was a house as big as the world is.
Like any self-respecting home, worthy of a prime time spot, or a smiling box office movie, it was made up of rooms.
The rooms, despite someone is still claiming for the contrary, were inhabited by occupants of a purely transitory nature, like the clouds that sometimes cover the sky. You can easily see that the drawings are never the same and those who say otherwise are blind, or want to blind others.
In one room, the inhabitants from the terminal
Photo by National Crime Agency
eternity nourished the fruits of the earth, of every form and color, declared taste or temporally fashion, vegetable or animal conception without any solution of continuity.

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Human Rights Stories about Apartheid

Rejoice.
I’m talking to you, my friend, that present time's law murders with deafening ease, and modern chronicle’s silence humiliates to the most obstinate recess of your soul.
Exult, since the unjust hourglass has a heart.
A slow and awkward one, but it beats.
Incredible in its pervading obsession in moving from the most servile side of the balance, the one where unqualified it polishes the golden wheels of the triumphal chariot.
Despite that, it has a logic, from this day.

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Human Rights Stories of poverty and hunger

The World Health Organization and the World Bank declared yesterday that almost one hundred million people in the world are forced every year to daily choose between health and food, education and basic necessities.
For the rest of humanity, a hundred is just a number, as well as a million times as much.
Greatness doesn’t matter, unless it’s one and that one is you.
In this case, I choose, each day, each week.
Monday I ate, yes, I had to, I couldn’t help it.
A little and with joy, with extreme calm and attention to every crumb that could run away.

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Human Rights Stories about women in Saudi Arabia

I.
Yes but…
I can.
Okay, but...
I can drive.
Certainly you can, however...
However, before you take breathe and steal time and page, I start and look for the horizon still to fill.
With one eye on tomorrow, the dreamed oasis, on the shore touched just within my imagination.
At the same time, the other half of my heart rejoices, staring at the missing rest that makes vibrating my chest and rubbing my hair.
Yes I can.

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Human Rights Stories about Nobel Peace Prize

Look at Aung San Suu Kyi, and see how she contradicts herself and every principle that has made her a symbol of the whole world, showing an insensitivity worthy of the worst politician before the sufferings of the Rohingya, an unlucky minority imprisoned inside a brutal majority.
Do you think it's all accidental?
Do you think it's just an amazing paradox?
It would be nice, always paradoxically, obviously, because that’s a well-reputed and repetitive plot in the script of the so-called upper species.
Look, in fact, and see.

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