Tags » Developing Country


There are few things I hate in the world more than the Council of Islamic Ideology and Feminists. What’s common between them? They are both accepting of lunatics, maniacs, extremists and well idiots. 419 more words


The Mopani saga and Zambia's windfall tax: an alternative reading

In 2010, Zambian NGOs obtained a leaked copy of an audit report conducted for the Zambia Revenue Authority into Mopani Copper Mine, a subsidiary of the Swiss behemoth Glencore. 886 more words

Tax As A Development Issue

17. Long - 31 days TZ


It just so happens that today I’m sick. Most likely just the by product of some “off” food I ate last night, but quite yucky nonetheless. 220 more words


Culture Shock

So I came into this country and job with as open a mind and as few expectations as I could possibly form.  Not much has truly “shocked” me here, (a bunch of Indonesians with dreads playing Bob Marley in the wee hours of the morning at an art gallery/bar/thrift store is a welcome shock) but there… 1,424 more words

National Children’s Month

Dear followers,

The month of October in the Philippines, since 1993, is dedicated to the children.

The celebration is done annually to recognize and emphasize the important role of children within the Filipino family and in nation building. 195 more words

Kito Onlus

Climate Summit 2014

Dear followers,

Last week, 22-28th of September 2014, the UN  Headquarter in New York City has hosted the “Climate Summit 2014“, one of the most important initiatives in preparation of the “ 263 more words

Developing Country

A Perpetual Poignancy.

Sitting on a bench at the bus-stop, I have the past ten minutes to ponder over.I had come out of a maths class, frustrated.Blame my terrible mathematical prowess for that.This wasn’t unusual.Such sessions were often followed by customary cigarettes.Meanwhile, the pavement seasoned with withered autumn leaves, occasional insalubrities and countless cigarettes arrests my glances.More frustration in the city.The pretty girl in red before me can barely derange my mental track, such is its resolute way.Three homeless boys rush past, collecting everything from plastic bottles to discarded glasses.One of them dons the item and claims attention.Ten minutes ago, I was pacing down the Jadavpur Streets, my head hung low with the weight of toil.I was interrupted by the cries of want of a beggar.She was a woman, rather a morbid effigy of one..her arm outstretched for a token of generosity, her lap embellished by a naked, bawling baby.Her expressions were lopsided, she was in need of money.I crossed her, then turned back and handed her ten bucks.When I resumed, I found the pavement flanked by more beggars demanding a fair distribution by their piercing countenances.I only pretended to ignore their claims that stated that they had not had food in days.We become such demons in the eye of the poor.Merciless, cold, diabolic selves who have monopolized the art of living in luxury, partial to our passing whims, for in helping one man, we deny another.To be very honest, it is not convenient(Yes.I use “convenient” instead of “possible” as I have mentioned honesty.)to help every poor soul one comes across.It is funny-the fact that in a developing country, there is no work for these languishing people.Work to them is spraining their hands by making no bones about being subjects of mercy.Pity.As for the future of the country, I cannot say.But over these lives, all there grows is a perpetual poignancy.

Developing Country.