Les Misérables? – Where Are We Heading? . . . By Nuzhat Shahzadi

I loved Victor Hugo's "Les Misérables." In my girlhood I read the English Translation from French, several times. It's one of the longest novels (655,478 words). The author explained his thoughts on the novel:

"Social problems go beyond frontiers. Humankind's wounds, those huge sores that litter the world, do not stop at the blue and red lines drawn on maps. Wherever men go in ignorance or despair, wherever women sell themselves for bread, wherever children lack a book to learn from or a warm hearth, Les Misérables knocks at the door and says: "open up, I am here for you."

Lately, we are entombed under a surge of despondency. It's spreading faster than the covid virus.

 . . when George Floyd, a Black man, was brutally killed in 2020 by a white Policeman who pressed his knee on Floyd's neck for 9 minutes, a deafening uproar broke out in the US. Streets were owned by massive protests––it inspired global condemnation of racism.

Floyd's 7-year-old daughter reacted, "Daddy changed the world." Black Life Matters became a household slogan.

And now? Trump changed the world.

According to CNN, Finland tops the World Happiness Report's rankings (keeping its No. 1 ranking for 8 years running). America is at No. 24 — earned its lowest ranking in the 2025 report.

A typhoon of uncertainty, chaos and senselessness is taking over America. It's asphyxiating the entire world.

Many of our friends have lost jobs by the deluge of DOGE spearheaded by Musk and his cronies––blessed by king (self-declared) Trump. Some in their 50s or early 60s are in a cross road––looking for a job, trying to pay for home mortgages, children's education . . . I was very worried for my neighbors. We share the same backyard lawn fence. The couple (Georgetown Graduates) are in career civil service––work in the Government. They have 3 beautiful boys (ages 8-11). Millions have already been fired or forced to resign. For days I didn't know how to ask them . . . finally I texted them:

"In my 1st six months in Afghanistan, I got an abduction threat, intercepted by the UN security. After they alerted me, I was up the whole night. I wasn't afraid, actually––the uncertainty, the strange situation was nerve wracking. I thought the night would never end. It did––morning broke eventually (and new challenges soared)."

They understood and responded:

" . . . It has been a really long and hard 3 weeks. We still have our jobs, but our hearts break for our friends at USAID and in the development sector."

I called a friend at Johns Hopkins University/CCP. We are still close––worked together in an HIV/AIDS project.

"We may be laid off any moment . . . I try to finish the high-volume-work during the day. At night, search for jobs," she said. At late 50s, her options were limited. And it's near-impossible to change the career trajectory suddenly."

An Indian young friend from Mumbai informed me that her contract with UNICEF won't be renewed after December due to lack of funds.

. . . My Ukrainian friend Yuriy (former deputy Minister of Defense) and I text often. I know what he is going through. There was an escalation between the warring countries last week though the peace talk is in the pipeline. I write to him to dish out hope in the face of hopelessness . . . to reinforce I care–– I understand Ukraine's anguish. He recognizes my feelings. We are not very different ––I have survived Pakistani Genocide.

He wrote:

"Still alive and fighting."

In this war, Russians have forcibly abducted about 20,000 Ukrainian children and placed them in Russian foster care. Recklessly obscene!

When my granddaughter Izara was 1-2 years old, she was terrified of toys that made loud sounds (remote controlled toy cars, etc.). It was the height of covid and we couldn't allow the cleaners in the house. We bought a Roomba vacuum cleaner that made lots of noise. We named it "Sally" as Izara loved the children's song "Go, Sally go." So, she came to terms with Sally . . . then we bought another Roomba and we christened it as "Albert," Sally's brother . . . I am sharing this story because every time a bomb explodes in deafening noise in Gaza my heart breaks into zillions of pieces thinking of the children. I feel their trauma. We failed them.

As I write, President Trump-Musk/Musk-Trump is signing an executive order to dismantle the Department of Education. This reminds me of the Bantu Education Act of 1953 in South Africa––an apartheid law that racially segregated educational facilities to control and limit/stunt the education of Blacks with the aim to push them into unskilled labor. Wealthy Americans will be able to afford quality education overseas for their children (Europe? Canada??)––commoners will suffer.

On my walk this morning I was stunned by the beauty of spring blossoms dancing in the wind.

I gathered my desperation thriving on the icing of hopelessness, thought about that long night in Afghanistan . . . it did end . . .

"If Winter Comes, Can Spring Be Far Behind?" (Shelley)

 

(PS - Canada's Carney has met with European allies as the US is unreliable).