Coffee

Image by Anaya Katlego

Many millions of us have coffee in the morning to start our day. What the day will bring depends upon where we live.

Mohammed (Mo), Anwar, Hassan, Ismail, and Stephen had their coffee together to start what they were going to do that day.  Leave Morocco for Spain. They had come from the violence in Sudan thousands of miles away.  “See you on the other side,” they old each other, meaning the Spanish side of the border.  Once they put down their coffee cups, the day they thought they had started, ended.

Some of Mo’s friends  were trampled to death in the stampede at the border crossing or shot by the Guardia Civil. Anwar and the others were not the only one of Mo’s friends killed. Mazin.  Wariq. Mo survived, wondering, “why do they attack us? I don’t want to hurt anyone, we just want to reach the other side, we are trying to find a safe life.”

Our days start with coffee like Mo’s and his friends’.  We put down our coffee cups or throw them in the trash and get on with our day, never thinking about the coffee that started it. Sometimes, the day changes and our plans with it, and sometimes, even ourselves, so we change the plan.  There’s always tomorrow and another coffee to start. Our day may change, but it does not end our lives.

Putin, Erdogan, Raisi, Assad, Netanyahu, and Trump also have their coffee to start their days millions wish would end as soon as possible. And then, of course, there are Ping and Un. But they drink tea.  Maybe Putin does also. Turkish tea.

No matter. There is no excuse for them in their choice of beverage.

I do not know if Mo has had any coffee since that day. Perhaps he has not had the chance.

May he have another.  Sometime.  Somehow. Somewhere

Hopefully.