That afternoon, she walks into the house for the first time. It's dim. The ceiling light shone weakly. A thick curtain covered the window. "Good afternoon", they exchanged greetings. She saw a mahjong table in the center of the room. Books, papers, folders, a pencil case covered the green table. Instinctively, she walked over and took a seat beside her student. Question after question of mathematics filled the stale afternoon air. "Do you understand?" "Yes, I do", the student always replies, albeit with a blank expression. That blank expression that fills the face of the dazed, the uninterested, the blur. The mother puts on a surgical mask and gloves and begins wiping down the room. Every spot is kissed by the cloth gently. No area is missed. It's strange. A musky scent filled the house, the corners are dark, the walls black with years of neglect, the sofa peeling from mistreatment. Yet, the mother is prideful in her job that afternoon.
Just finished watching this documentary. Reduced me to a pile of tears and a bundle of hatred for the soulless 'social workers'. I don't think I will ever understand how humans can be so callous. How could you see a child in pain, in complete need of care, of love and yet treat him/her as cattle, and walk away after manhandling them. It is not the lack of stimulation. It is the lack of love that has left the children in this state of despair. Didi still has so much hope to one day see her mom and love for someone who abandoned and condemned her to a life of misery. She says she's happy but always, the lingering shot shows that sadness in her eyes. She knows, her mom isn't coming back for her. But if one day her mom came, she would jump straight back into her arms. That's the problem with hope isn't it, that's the problem with humans. We want what hurts us. Hope is what kills us in the end. Milen, the boy that never let his heart harden through all...
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