By Dariga Atayeva, Year 11
“A decline of 30% of the total population…greatest disaster of the century.” I turned off the radio. Driving my niece to school in my electric car, I understand now that no matter what energy I use, the planet is completely fated to doom. I glance at my niece who, now in her last year of school, is graduating in 2046. I think about her future, ruined by human greed.
After dropping her off, I parked my car. It was my day off, and going outside for some “fresh air” was no longer possible like it was back when I was in school. I remember the day the breaking news came out. When the president of the USA approved an oil drilling project in the Arctic. I couldn’t comprehend why anyone would proceed with such a project, especially knowing the massive consequences that it would induce. Back in the day, we discussed the topic with my friends. We all agreed on one point: no man should decide the earth’s fate.
Yet, it was terrifying. We knew that no matter what we did now, the chances of reversing the project’s initiation were slim.
And here I am, today. Afraid of intoxicating my lungs by going out for a walk, and nourishing myself on the bare minimum. This isn’t the planet I wanted my family to live on. When I tell my children the stories of back when the earth wasn’t an utterly toxic place, they ask me: why didn’t you do anything about it?
I find that question very clever. Why didn’t we stop it? I mean, you can’t say we didn’t try. I know tons of people who worked hours and days to solve the issue. It was merely just not enough. Most people had their own personal problems to worry about, while others thought the issue would resolve itself without their participation.
I think we all got lost in the materialistic world, money being the sore leader of the imaginary human hierarchy. Leaders got so lost in their pursuit of power that considering them as emotional beings became difficult. Millions of everyday people oppose their projects, yet, they stay powerless. Sometimes, I wonder if they would behave the same way if put in their position.
When I picked my niece up from school that day, she asked me how my day went. After a moment of silence, I embraced her in my arms and, through intervals of short breaths, whispered:” I’m sorry…I sincerely apologise.”
