A mother’s war

I was watching Victoria last night whilist midnight-munching on beetroots and avocado for my breastmilk. My son is 15 months old and not a great fan of getting nutrients for himself, so he sticks to my boobs 24/7.
The episode was about the irish famine is the 19th century, and for a brief moment I thought how awful the world must have been all those years ago and how easily people were left to - simply die of hunger. And then I realised...

There are so many people dying of starvation right now. There are children being born and dying without once experiencing the feel of a full tummy. And it isn’t because there’s not enough food, but because we just can’t get enough war!

And you may be a leader. Your mind may have been trained to see the world as a chess table. Your brain may know how to ignore the people dying and focus on the ‘strategy’.
Or you may be a soldier, a pawn - trained to kill and be proud for it. Following orders and knowing that your bullets are not your responsibility.
You may be a millitant with a brain more laundered than my child’s cloth nappies. And you may kill and murder thinking it’s what your God demands of you.

You may be all those things and go to war, and fight and kill and die.

But don’t be a mother holding a crying baby at an empty breast.
Don’t be a mother sheltering your child from mortar and bullets.
Don’t be a mother watching your sons and daughters die of hunger.

Because I know that you, leaders and soldiers and militants, could not endure a mother’s war.