Subject: The weight of a political promise.
I
suppose none of us can imagine what it is like to have escaped from a
burning building by the skin of our teeth, losing everything we
possessed, including many of our friends and perhaps relatives. The
experience of trying to get out, the panic,
the smoke, the terror which is transported between frightened people.
Then to
be faced by the incompetence of the council and slowly have revealed the
true story of why the fire took over so quickly and reflect on the
inadequacy of the Fire systems in the building, the inadequacy of escape
routes, the lack of maintenance
which led to a failure of emergency lighting in the stairwells.
The failure to treat the people as a composite group, people who collectively suffered the same problems and needed to be consoled as a group.
The
people who survived have been given many hours of prime time TV to
express themselves, the interviewers have been openly shocked at the
grief of families who have not only lost their families but are faced
with the harrowing image that their remains
are so badly burnt and consumed by the fire identification will be impossible.
The
apparent distancing from the fire and its consequences by the senior
members of the Council was another sickening experience for the
residents and all of us, as we witnessed the divide in society which
allows people to judge segments within society
differently.
Having
said all this and having judged the incompetence of response from not
only the councillors of Kensington and Chelsea but also the government
of the day especially the cack-handed way the prime minister responded
when she eventually
visited the
site to thank the emergency services but failed to see the need to make
herself available to the residents. One could go on and on cataloguing
the missed opportunities, not only in the lead up to the fire but the events afterwards and its afterwards that we
now see the schisms emerging.
The residents, human beings were mainly from countries of the war torn Middle East. Some no doubt illegal and a symbol
of clusters of people living in crowded conditions in many of our
cities. They are terrified of authority since they are the very people
who live in that grey area between acceptance and being rejects, who
are used to getting by,
who bring up large families where having large families is a function
of being who they are, or at least who they have been taught who they
are by their husbands.
These cultural assumptions house children, many children brought
up, possibly better than in our western culture where having children
can be assumed as a drag. The institution of the family and its
emotional collective, its sibling responsibility, its gender
hierarchy clustered under one roof, gathered into limited space, brings its own message.
But what
we are now seeing is the resistance born of living in a country which
for all its faults is a far cry from the homeland of the survivors.
Countries where the sight of a burnt out shell of a building is common
place, hundreds of burnt
out building
litter the landscape and no help is on offer for the people living
there. And so when the demands are made, when social services are not
enough, when accommodation offered is not to their liking we begin to
hold up our hands and question.
Of
course they are seared with the experience, many suffering post dramatic
stress, temporally unhinged and readily open to suggestion. The agent
provocateur works amongst them stirring dissent where rightfully dissent
should exist
but also along side
the rationale that it will take time to resolve this horrible situation
and making demands on a nation which is failing to address its own
indigenous people's needs, then the sympathy will begin to ebb away.
The
problem is lack of trust. With memories of how their concerns regarding
safety in the block were ignored by the very type of people,(the
authorities) who are now promising to sort things out. Their instinct
tells them, these are just words, just
political promises and we all know the weight of a political promise.
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