I have just finished my manuscript The Tsunami Business. I never intended to become a writer but here am, and it feels great to have the first one under my belt.
The book follows my journey through a disaster and my subsequent seven year relationship – living and working in Sri Lanka during the civi war.
My book addresses a variety of issues but today I want to look at the morality of deception and what that means. Below is an extract that is both amusing and appropriate:
Eighteen months after the Tsunami had devastated Sri Lanka, I was travelling in a Colombo tuk tuk, the driver turned to me sitting in the back seat and said, “Madam my wife and children died in the Tsunami – very difficult time for me, can you help me Madam?”
“Stop telling lies to me Sir, I am not a tourist, we both know there was no problems in Colombo.” I snapped back.
“Oh, very sorry Madam,” he replied, nodding sideways and laughing. I laughed too because who could blame him for trying? But it was complicated. Giving in the aftermath of a disaster, rebuilding in a coordinated way or giving to assist empowerment is part of the humanitarian imperative, but in my experience random and emotional giving from well-meaning citizens has an unbalancing effect on human nature and it’s debatable over who is getting what out of it. I believe unsolicited emotional giving has the capability of turning communities rotten.Share: