We got back power last night.
Miraculously, the lights came on, the deep voice of Barry White begged for lovin’ from my kitchen and, like magic, we were back to normal. As I thanked Jah for his protection of me and my family, I stared into outer space, lost in deep thought.
“What if this lasted for 1 month?”
“What if robbers became restless and began to roam on foot…to people’s front door?”
“What is this lasted for 1 year?”
“What are they planning next?”
This Frankenstorm has taught me a few lessons on emergency preparedness and surviving on just your wits and The Most High’s guidance. Growing up humbly, we had no choice but to be creative when it came to preserving food. My entire family cooked outside on a massive coal stove and grew food in order to survive. Fish, crab and poultry came from our farm as did fresh eggs and real chocolate. But living in “modern” times has made us take much for granted.
Sandy stripped us bare and forced us to return to nature. And I was glad. The past 6 days with no electric heat, running water, freezing temperatures and howling wind made us cook in the fireplace, store milk, vegetables and other perishables outside for preservation and rely solely on each other for comfort. We bonded tighter than ever.
When the power came back, I flipped on the Tel-lie-vision to see just how bad the damage was. New York, my former home, New Jersey, Connecticut and West Virginia got pummeled beyond repair. People were walking around the streets in their pajamas and slippers, some were barefoot. They were begging for food, water and clean clothes. They looked scared, angry, shocked, desperate, lost and unable to cope. Some were caught stealing candy bars from ma-and-pa five and dimes, others were looting for whatever they could find.
As the newscasters made their way up to Staten Island and Long Island, I was a bit stunned to see how a Category 1 Storm, desecrated the tiny area. Dead bodies were trapped under rubble and crabs were floating in people’s living rooms. One woman was screaming how unfair it was that F.E.M.A. wasn’t here earlier to help her since her neighbourhood, which was located in the “nice” part o’ town, had to pay such high taxes. As I looked carefully at her face and micro-expressions through the TV, I realized something was happening.
These wealthy, upper-class, predominately white people were beginning to realize that the Powers that Be could care less about them. Their money, power, influence and skin meant nothing to the Forces of Evil. They were all expendable just like the victims of Hurricane Katrina.
As The Most High communicated with me that the anger and indignation they were feeling had to do with the power of their pocketbooks and not with their human needs, I wondered what would be the next phase for them.
Would they be finally “awakened?”
Would they change?
Would they become a bit nicer to people who were less fortunate?
Or…would the harsh reality that they were in the same boat as us make them angrier?
What are your thoughts on this subject?