When our silence betrays us…

On Sunday afternoons, I sit in the covered courtyard, looking around at the tables and chairs, and I see families reunited, fathers kissing children, holding their wives and partners as they sit down for a meal. This could be a scene at the Social Centre, the airport or anywhere around our beautiful paradise, but it is not.

On Sunday afternoons, I sit in the covered courtyard, looking around at the tables and chairs, and I see families reunited, fathers kissing children, holding their wives and partners as they sit down for a meal. This could be a scene at the Social Centre, the airport or anywhere around our beautiful paradise, but it is not.