It takes a village.
At least, that’s what they say.
It takes a village—to bind together, to look out for, to uplift, and to help each other survive this world together.
Except, I don’t think a village truly exists.
Or if it does, it is a village that has boundaries—a religious, cultural, vegetarian, a non-vegetarian, or a professionally competitive boundary. There are so many boundaries.
Why does no one ever tell us that a village has its own handbook? Its own set of rules and regulations? So then we may consider, what exactly does this village that we speak of do for us?
We practice that phrase if it does not encroach on our personal space. We will be a village as long as our wants, desires, and ambitions don’t conflict with yours.
We will show support on platforms proclaiming our undying support, but how are we supporting? Are we truly giving? Are we truly sharing? Are we truly uplifting each other? Are we truly fighting for each other?
I struggle with this phrase. I have seen it being called a village, where the villagers have abandoned someone at the first sight of accountability. I have seen a village disintegrate when someone feels insecure personally or professionally.
A village should nourish us, take up the causes that affect us, and be there for us every step of the way.
A village should not let us disappear. A village needs to keep us and the essence of us alive. Who we are and who we become are dependent on the forces and the people in the village around us.
These pictures were taken in only a span of a year. From a fun-loving college girl to a woman burdened by her married veil. It took a village to break that spirit, to abandon a girl, to cover the person both literally and figuratively, and to lock her away for years.
I don’t want to be a member of that silent village. I want to be in a village where there is joy, sorrow, failures, successes, and all to be celebrated together.
I hope we can all be a part of a village that builds and rebuilds.
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