Her little hand gripped a knife
Chopping the tobacco leaves one by one
Her lungs rebelled
Longing for fresh air
His little hand gripped a shovel
The smell of smoke permeated his sackcloth
He saw his nails turn into teal
At nine, he was told to leave his childishness
Her childhood was sacrificed,
For bread to fill the stomach of her family
What was a doll?
She only knew how to operate machines
His childhood was sacrificed,
For the three coins given to his mother
What was a toy car?
He only knew how to shovel coals
She wanted to be a writer
But what she held was a looming needle
She asked her father,
Was my future just deprived?
He wanted to be a weightlifter athlete
But what he held was a sack of sand
He asked his mother,
Was my future just murdered?
Their cries were restrained
Work or starve another day
They saw their friends,
slump and die
Their inner groans awaken a new generation
Who can be their representative to demand rights
For a new era where they can shout:
I AM FREE!
Author: Dulce Cicilia Sariri
Editor: Yohana Satvika Wahyuveda, Ruth Tirza Arina (QC)
Illustrator: Ajeng Suci Hati