Stolen Lives

Darkness.

Smoke.

Chaos.

Heat.

Yesterday at 15.30, a coal mine in the west of Turkey collapsed. Nearly 800 workers were trapped inside, 400 m underground.

Until now, 300 workers have been "rescued".

250 had already died.

And this is only the death toll so far.

In Soma, this mining province where the disaster took place, the search and rescue teams continue their "searching-and-rescuing". The entrance of the mine,  the mouth of a hungry beast waiting for its next pray, where, just yesterday morning, 700 people stood, waiting to go deep into the earth and earn their living, stands there, almost intimidatingly. Outside the mine, families of these hundreds of workers wait, anxiously. They look at the list of people who were taken to the hospital and are being treated, with the hope of seeing their father's, brother's, son's name on there. A man, aged around 25, looks at the list, squints, shakes his head and says, "No, he's not on there. He's still down there. He's probably injured." Behind him, the police have formed a wall of flesh between the families and the Minister of Energy. The wall continues until the staircase, scantily built, going up to the exit of the mine. Right at that moment, just as the man shakes his head, just as the minister makes another politically correct statement, just as the television reporter cocks his head and listens to the guy speaking into his ear; just at that moment, 5-6 search-and-rescue workers come out of the mine, carrying among them one gurney. Resting on the gurney, there is a black bag. Zipped up tight. Only not so tight: you can see a hand, as black as the bag it's supposed to be in, as black as darkness, sticking out of it. Reaching. For light? For air? Maybe. One more of that 800 has been "rescued".

Almost two minutes later, before the television reporter "reporting live" can finish his carefully constructed, prolonged sentence about the worker who was just found, another team comes out of the exit of the mine. Another gurney. Another onyx bag. Swallowing the hopes and dreams of yet another family. Devouring one more life spent in the mines.

And, of course, our PM has to speak about this. He should, but not like this.

There is no sign of regret, sorrow or any effort to make amends or to apologize, in his speech. He says it's part of the job description, these "accidents". He says, "These things happen." He lectures us about how 200 years ago, in England, a "similar" mining accident took place and 200 people died. As if that makes all this OK. As if that  grants those children who lost their fathers their fathers back. Just the fact that it happened before should be enough to stop it from ever happening again. The past should not be an excuse for the present. It should be a lesson-learned.

Unfortunately, this was not an accident. The collapse was caused by a fire which started because of a neglected, aged, cable setup. 250 people died because of negligence. This qualifies as murder, not an "accident".

And, to top it all off, a proposal was presented in the parliament, not so long ago, for the supervision and inspection of all coal mines in Soma, by the leading opposition party. This proposition was rejected by the "against" votes cast by the members of the leading party.


Down.


Down.


Down.


400 m below ground, where the sunlight can't reach, hundreds of people are trapped. It is likely that most of them are already dead. The search-and-rescuers are doing their best, but theirs has turned out to be more of a search-and-salvage mission rather than a search-and-rescue mission. Every ten minutes, a new body bag comes out of the mine.

Hundreds of people; dead. Thousands of people; bruised for life. These men of the darkness, these crystal-hearted heroes of the abyss, will not see the end of another shift. And for what? For a wage barely putting them above the poverty line. These people died for a few liras and a bag of coal, while their representatives; the ministers, the parliament members, the PM, hand out these bags of coal for election propaganda and stash millions of (stolen) money in shoe boxes, pretending it's nothing.


I present my deepest condolences to every sister, wife, son, daughter, mother, father, whom these disgusting people "representing" us, have stolen their brothers, husbands, fathers and sons from.