These are the forgotten ones. The Badi people of Nepal are a people of rejection, pain & sorrow. Their girls are bred for the entertainment for evil men. They don’t get the rights that are granted to those higher on the caste system. There is no one to fight for their agendas. They are of the bottom of the barrel. They are the broken, the untouchables. They are the forgotten.
There are the children of the Acholi tribe in northern Uganda; children born and are named by hell. Because their villages are burned, they live in ghettos with no buildings- only tarp-covered shanties. They are abducted by people of their own tongue who come to them and cut out their tongues or recruit them to fight wars that are not their own. They are the forgotten.
They are the family across the street. They are the new Jones’. You don’t see them much besides when they step into their rusted-out brown station wagon which heralds bungee cords across the trunk to keep it from popping open on the speed bumps. The mom is doing it all alone now. She is always yelling at her hyperactive half dozen. They leave with a few bags of groceries bought by Uncle Sam. People stop by their house once in a while. Usually it’s a man by himself who parks his car for a visit on your side of the street and even on the edge of your grass. Words like daggers slice through your walls…words of ugliness. Crying ensues. These are the forgotten.
