Dear Small Islands Everywhere,
I think of you often. Many of you swim in oceans of water and have been happy to do so for aeons. Until now. Now the seas of time lap at your shores. And time is ebbing away as you float suspended. Without life buoys or influence over waves that augur drowning. The melting ice. The rising waters.
Where is the lifeboat? How many will it hold? Will it be overwhelmed by the swell as you abandon the ship of your lives in search of safe harbour? Will the drawbridge of safety be drawn up as you float ideas of salvage or rescue? Will hands that are drowning not waving be hoisted from the flood?
I was born on the small islands of St Kitts-Nevis. Now I inhabit a big one – Great Britain. Where the power of the Industrial Revolution gave birth to material consumption. Like a pendulum global consumption has swung to its zenith. It is way past time for the tide of consumer souls to drain and flow to a spirit level that slakes our thirst without submerging us. Or the earth will witness such movement of islands small to big as no Ark could accommodate.
The waters of time are storming. To keep Small Islands safe let the big ones learn to live smaller.
Yours sincerely,
Tyrone Huggins