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Alpha Diallo is a graduate from Northwestern Pritzker School of Law, and a human rights lawyer based in Chicago. He travels around the world to advocate human rights values because he believes that respect for human rights can make the World a better place. He pictures the World as a village and countries as neighbors, and they should coexist in peace, since there is only one race, the human race, and one religion, love. When he does not travel, he sits Under the Human Rights Tree (UTHRT) to write and share human rights stories with the World so he can open a new gate of legal knowledge to a new audience.

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

UTHRT: The Duty of Self-reliance at the Brown Garden.

 The summer of 2019 came a little late in Chicago, but it came. It arrived in late June with its joie de vivre. Its aura made Chicagoans bury their winter coats in forgotten corners of their closets and allowed them to wear their lighter summer clothes. You could see Chicagoans hanging out near the lake with Lady Michigan, having a drink along the Chicago Riverwalk, and biking to neighborhood festivals. 

 

Summer in Chicago also attracted tourists from all around the world who came to see the city where buildings kissed the sky, and where neighborhoods maintain their identity in an atmosphere of friendliness and politeness that characterizes the Midwest. Chicago is a beautiful city, but when you learn to see it with your heart, you will see its artificial walls and ensuing realities.

 

It was in this environment that I decided to share my dream with the universe. I dreamed of having a garden where I could grow vegetables, knowing I had neither land to plant my seeds nor water to nourish them. Yet I kept believing because I was guided by the desire to advocate for people's right to food, and the belief that there are ways to achieve that right with sheer will and hard work.

 

As I continued to share my dream with the universe, she responded. A friend of mine lent me a small lot at her property and offered to share her water. She also warned me that the soil was not fertile in this area, and that vegetables don’t grow well due to a neighbor's large tree blocking the sun, and animals eating the plants.

 

On June 9, 2019, I took the first step towards putting my ideas into action. Around 11 am, I was at what I now called the Brown lot working to transform it into a garden. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, I wanted to go through the experience, worrying little about the outcome. So, I proceeded to act, to tell the tale. 

 

At the Brown lot, I started to clear the grass, pull the weeds, and dig the soil. After hours of work, the lot was cleared. I assembled the dirt, grass, and weed. I returned the tools to their place and cleaned my hands. I felt a sense of satisfaction, and I learned that having a garden is good for our health. It allows us to exercise and be in touch with nature. 

 

As I prepared the ground at the Brown lot, I spent days learning about gardening. I googled subjects related to it. I watched YouTube videos, and I visited the website of local farms. Also, I talked to friends who had previous experience gardening and listened to their advice. Overall, I learned that gardening is an art of growing fruits, vegetables, and flowers, and having a loving relationship with nature. After my studies on gardening, I went to buy organic lettuce, red pepper, cucumber, and tomato seeds. I also bought six galvanized steel wire tomato cages, and I went back to the Brown lot to apply what I had learned. As Anton Chekhov said, “ Knowledge is of no value unless you put it into practice.” 

 

On June 14, 2019, I started to dig holes, plant seeds, and cover them with soil. After days of abundant rain, I witnessed the seeds emerge from the ground and become small plants. I felt as joyful as a mother who had seen her newborn for the first time. As weeks passed by, I tended to the plants' needs by touching them lovingly and protecting them from the weeds. With a generous season of rain, I just watered the plants occasionally. I learned that whenever you share love with Mother Earth; she returns it with gratitude. 

 

On July 26, 2019, the Brown lot became the Brown garden. The vegetable grew well, and the harvest began. I first had lettuce and cucumbers. Weeks later, I had tomatoes and red peppers. The harvest was successful because I provided the plants with all the care they needed. Also, the neighbor ended up cutting the big tree that prevented the sun from reaching the ground, and finally, the local animals decided not to touch my plants. As Paulo Coelho said, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

 

As a result, during 2019, I enjoyed healthy and tasty vegetables with a great taste without going to the store -because of the brown garden harvest. I felt privileged to live in a country where I am able to have a garden without being disturbed by government officials or chased by soldiers or rebels and can enjoy three meals a day in peace. Sadly, in many countries around the world, people are displaced by wars and are dying of hunger. 

 

The Food Aid Foundation reports that 795 million people in the world do not have enough food to live a healthy and active life. In the Sub-Saharan Africa region where I come from, one person in four is undernourished. The lack of food causes nearly half (45%) of deaths in children under five years old - which is estimated to be a total of 3.1 million children each year. As I contemplated these numbers, I feel sad because I believe having access to food should not be a privilege, but a right. Yet a right we must earn through hard work, if we are not disabled or ill. 

 

At the international level, legal scholars, diplomats, and politicians have taken the initiative to enact laws to bind nations to act and end the food crisis. Yet these laws have often fallen on deaf ears due to a lack of will and interests, as millions of elders, women, and children have died of hunger under our watch. Today I wonder what became of the song "We Are the World; We Are the Children."

 

In 1948, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights defined the right to food as an adequate standard of living. The document states in article 25 that "everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing, and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control." 

 

In 1966 the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights reaffirmed the right to be free from hunger. The signatory parties recognized: "the right of everyone to an adequate standard of living for himself and his family, including adequate food" (Article 11.1) and "the fundamental right of everyone to be free from hunger" (Article 11.2). 

 

Finally, in 2012, after a decade of diatribe and ego displays, the Food Assistance Convention was adopted, making it the only legally binding international treaty on food aid. We could put it this way; after causing wars and destroying people's and families' lives, the countries of the world agreed to distribute little pieces of bread to the victims. That is to say the right to food is protected under international human rights and humanitarian law, but the application of that law is feeble.

 

Today, on the national level, few countries recognize the right to food in their constitutions. As of 2011, only fifty-six countries protected the right to food in some form or another. While some countries explicitly acknowledged a constitutional right to food, others implied it in broader human rights instruments or as part of a directive principle. 

 

In Chicago, as in many big American cities, the artificial walls that separate communities based on race or income also affect the availability of food specially in the form of “Food Deserts”. An area is called a food desert when inhabitants there lack reasonable access to fresh and affordable food. The Food Empowerment Project estimates that more than 500,000 residents in Chicago live in these food deserts. 

 

The consequences of restricted access to healthy food in neighborhoods with a preponderance of African-Americans are many including the prevalence of chronic illnesses like diabetes, hypertension and cardiovascular disease. An article appearing in Medical News Today "What are the leading causes of death in the United States?" (Hannah Nichols, July 4, 2019) reported that Heart disease was the leading cause of death among adults in the United States in 2017 with 647,457 deaths representing 23.5% of all death in the country that year. That statistic tells the whole story of food and health in the African American communities and both in Chicago and in the United States. 

 

As summer 2019 came late in Chicago, it also left early. On October 27, 2019, I returned to the Brown garden for the last time to pick the rest of my vegetables and clear the field. I thanked the universe for the experience. I also thanked my friend for sharing her lot and water. As autumn settled into the city, I reflected on my experience at the Brown garden and I now advised communities to go back to the land and tend their gardens. As Voltaire said, "We must cultivate our own garden."

 

The tale of the Brown garden comes to an end. Since then, the world has been wrestling with Covid-19, which has turned our lives up and down. Yet, politicians and experts hijack the disease on TV shows and blame each other for the number of deaths caused by the system's failure. They refuse to underline that a system where healthcare is not a right, is condemned to lose the fight. 

As we wait for a solution to the apocalypse, I believe that our best health insurance consists of healthy foods and daily exercise. Therefore, let's give seeds to Mother Nature; she will give them back to us with gratitude.

 

Sincerely,

 

Alpha Diallo

 

 

 


 

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

UTHRT. Happy New Year 2020!

Dear Friends,

Happy New Year 2020!

A year is gone; another year is here. The year 2019 has been a great one: I learned a lot, traveled, and grew.

I learned by following my own path. I started my journey on January 1, 2019, a winter day. As I traveled, I met an animal with four legs crawling and crying on the side of the road. I passed by her, minding my own business. My conscience, however, would not let me sleep. So, I returned and picked her up. I held her in my arms and shared the human touch that we all need in moments of sorrow. I also shared the little food I had whenever she cried, but she was gay and playful most of the time. After months of living together, I learned to admire her curious eyes, her beautiful heart, and her innocent ways. Though on a day when winter transitioned to spring, she decided to follow her own path. I was saddened, but as Khalil Gibran said, "Your children are not your children. / They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. / They came through you but not from you, / And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you." I carried her memory with me, and I learned never to let the child in me die.

At noon on a spring day, I met another animal with two legs. He told me he was in a hurry as he needed to pursue his summer dreams. I walked faster to keep up with him. He told me about his hope for peace, love, and freedom. One day, he said that he wanted to move to California, start an organic farm, and become a guru. Another day, he spoke of moving to New York, settling in an office, earning a lot of money, and having all the things that come with wealth. Last night he shared with me his dream of revolution. He believed that the world was sick, and it was his duty to burn the house and rebuild it with his own blood, if necessary. As time passed, I learned to admire his sense of wonder, his energy, and his confidence; he was a dreamer.

As Khalil Gibran also said, "Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity." We spent the summer together camping in the wilderness. We swam in rivers, lakes, and the ocean. We climbed hills, descended ravines, and walked steep paths without blaming each other. On a day when summer turned into fall, I shared my intention to sit under a tree, rest, and live in the moment. I wanted to write a song, sing it in the wild, listen to the wind, dance, and look at my surroundings, paint or take pictures. He did not see it that way, as he was always living in his summer dreams, so we parted ways. I wished him well. I promised not to let the youth and the dreamer in me die. 

As fall was moving in, I saw an animal with three legs passing by, carrying eighty-five years of life experience. I decided to end my respite and travel with her since people you meet always teach you something (if you have the desire to learn). I asked her if she needed any help. She calmly told me she was okay. We walked slowly and talked little until the final days of autumn. One day at dawn, I found her body falling like leaves towards the eternal night of life. I sat, cried over her death, and I heard Khalil Gibran's voice asking me not to cry—"for life and death are one." I cleansed her body with my tears, and I buried her under a tree, reflecting on our last evening of conversation. She told me that life is a circle; we live, and then we die. We came from the dark to the light, and from the light, we will return to the dark. As you wake up, give thanks to the universe, and as you go to bed, again give thanks to the universe because we don’t know what will transpire tomorrow. Every day when you wake up, look at the horizon, admire its beauty, and never chase it. She told me to always be at peace with myself, despite the changing weather. She also advised me to travel because travelling is the best school. Finally, she told me to travel lightly, without prejudice, and never let fears or convenience steal my freedom. I continued my journey, carrying her wisdom. 

Months later, I arrived in two neighboring towns separated by a road. I went to the town on the left side of the road. The residents there welcomed me with food and lodging. The next morning, they asked me to join them to fight for their rights. The day after, they told me their neighbors from the right were responsible for all the evils that the world is facing. After months of fighting for our rights, I asked whether they ever thought about their own duties. Further, I asked whether it was okay to cross to the other side of the road and engage in a dialogue with their neighbors. The next day, I was subjected to the silent treatment, denied food, and my bed was taken. I took my belongings, thanked them, and crossed the road to the right. 

At the town on the right, I was also welcomed with food and lodging. The residents there invited me to join their classes where they were taught about their duties and how awful their neighbors are. One day, I asked them whether they had courses about their rights and whether they were willing to cross the road and talk to their neighbors. I was called unpatriotic. I left both worlds, agreeing with Alexander Hamilton, who said, "Give all the power to the many, they will oppress the few. Give all the power to the few, they will oppress the many." Today I strive for balance between the left and the right, and I never let partisan politics corrupt my views. 

My travels this year took me to the Fouta Djallon. On January 26, 2019, I arrived in a small village surrounded by two rivers and hills called Dogol Djigui. I reconnected with my ancestors and learned about my roots. I continued my walk, following the footsteps of the Fulbe, who arrived in the region in the fifteenth century. They established the kingdom of Fouta Djallon after the battle of Talansan in 1726. I hiked through Telemile, Mamou, Pita, Dalaba, and Labe. I stopped by waterfalls and the Museum of Fouta Djallon, and I was welcomed in Timbo at the tomb of Karamoko Alfa, the founder. I also met the children, women, men, and elders of Fouta. Finally, I came across cows and drank their milk. I believe that, as the winds of social media evolve into a hurricane, we all need to be rooted in order to stand. 

I grew in 2019 by finding balance. I served my community through the One Heart for Africa organization (www.oneheartforafrica.org) and advocated for human rights Under theHuman Rights Tree (www.underthehumanrightstree.org). I believe in service and respecting human rights—both traits that can help us build a better world.

The journey of 2019 is coming to an end. The year 2020 is here, and I will look out at the horizon, enjoy its beauty, but never chase it. I take this opportunity to wish you and your loved ones a happy new year 2020!

Sincerely,
Alpha