By Imlisanen Jamir
A long time ago, tribes from all over the world came together for a gathering. There was a challenge actually to see who could come up with the scariest things. Some of them brewed potions, some of them jumped in and out of animal skin. Some of them thought up devices, weapons and traps until finally there was one tribe left who hadn’t done anything.
No one knew where this tribe came from, and all this tribe had was a story. The story this tribe had was a scary tale full of fear, blood and horror. When the telling was done, the others trembled with fear. You win, they said, but what you just voiced, it’s chilling. Take it back, they demanded. Call that story back.
But of course it was too late. For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told it stays with us forever.
Every event, every experience, every picture tells a story. They are not only a way to communicate and understand reality; they can also inspire collective and transformative action. When responding to tragedies and adapting to changes, stories help us to make sense of our experiences. They help us to bring together the diversity of voices, knowledge and perceptions.
The recent tragedy in Mon perfectly exemplifies how perception of the same issue can differ. In the immediate, statistics seem to matter most, but in the long run stories matter more. For too long now, our stories have barely featured in the mainstream. We need our compelling accounts of resistance, hope, and vision showcase the power of our story to generate critique and collective action.
It is now not just the work of writers, artists or journalists to chronicle our reality. In this world of interconnectedness, every one with a phone has the power to do the same. The present outpour of emotions should stimulate continuous engagement, active citizenship, the pride of identity, and the humility of human connectedness.
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com
