Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Borrowed Lives in a Borrowed Country.

Nobody remembers when Cuba began giving up its will in the hands of Castro. By far, five generations of Cubans had been dragging their existence and today, a decade after a new century, they forgot the very moment went the clock stopped its ticking and time stood still.Borrowed lives in a borrowed country

For some, Cuba sank the moment Castro crushed Manuel Urrutia, the first Cuban president after Batista, that unforgotten evening of 1959. For the most, when Castro declared Socialism in Cuba in April 1961. Since then, day by day, law by law and word by word, any sign of democracy had been buried in the name of the proletariat.

The education system became one block of indoctrination, religion was a blasphemy and 1940 Constitution was a heresy. The laws were rewritten point by point, crushing any trace of civil rights and constitutional guaranties. New ministries were created to control any single move of each citizen nationwide. Housing, land and food were rationed to the most excruciating detail and supervised by new institutions. The society was under a supervised release program under the eyes of the CDR (Committee for the Defence of Revolution). Literally, it is under “house” arrest.

We left our democratic premises to begin a new life in a borrowed country, where you don’t own your own life. It is astonishing how Cuba allowed a bunch of people to install the most Orwellian society in the western hemisphere, and in a country characterized for being one of the richest in social and political history, and maybe one of the most unrested in Latin-American.

But here we are. Since we are born we are a line in the monthly ration book of our parents, a line in the address book kept by the CDR, a line in a book in the military register kept by our army, a line in a book of every single organization, institution and government infrastructure. As the result, you are trapped in books and registers, and you own nothing.

Even your house is something borrowed to you meanwhile you are in the line with the government. Don’t move, don’t sell, and don’t open your mouth to tell your truth or what you understand as your truth: you could finish loosing even your own clothes. Your belongings are borrowed properties by the estate. As soon you realize Cuba is closing its doors to you, and you want to leave, the unsigned contract with the totalitarian owner is over.

Our national emblems, our homeland and our national heroes are private properties of someone erected as the ultimate forefather: Fidel Castro. He is the only one allowed to use and misuse them at his whim.

Our homeland is a borrowed country under the siege and the law of one man. We are citizens of nowhere, and our lives are borrowed in this country of us. The revolution started in 1959 ended in this monstrosity where our citizens are defenceless against the law, against the institutions whose essential roles have to be to defend and protect our citizens, but instead they finished castrating your rights against the rule of one person.

At the end, we are like that dog who is living cornered under a cart, or in any hidden place kicked by any unfriendly fellow in any given day. Living a life of orphan citizens, Cubans crawl to the end of their life with no possession of their own, until they leave...

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