When I was in England, my friends thought that I was ever so naïve and out of touch with reality every time I expressed surprise at the appalling living-conditions of some families on council estates.

Surprised I certainly was. The image that has been drummed in to our conscious minds, us inhabitants of less-developed countries, was that developed countries in the north provided for a decent way of life for their people. No wonder then that life on the estates seemed absolutely horrifying to me. The violence, the drugs, alcoholism and illiteracy had slowly taken their toll on values, education and morals. This is by no means a generalization but simply an observation made after befriending a few people living in those council flats.

My more ?fortunate? British friends were amazed when I informed them that such conditions of living did not exist in my country. Five years later, I beg to differ. Out of touch with reality I most definitely am. And I am not alone in this ignorance of the deeper realities of this country I call home.

A few days ago, I went to the NHDC residential complex of Camp Levieux, found in our Prime minister?s constituency. What I discovered there shocked me. Brought back memories of the ?council people? of Kingston Upon Thames. I cannot help but think that despite the hardships encountered by their everyday living, the Kingstonians were in many respects far luckier that their Camp Levieux counterparts.

At least those people had food. At least those people were guaranteed a roof over their heads no matter what. At least those people had a choice. The choice of getting out of the estate and improving their lot if they wanted to. At the end of the day, it was only those who didn?t want to help themselves who remained at the bottom of the social ladder. Those who wanted a way out, only had to grab all the opportunities given to them by the state, to make a difference.

A few of the people I met in Camp Levieux did not have that choice. And they are not alone in their ghetto. Genuine cases like those can be found all over the cyber island. How can you improve your lot if you are not given the opportunity to do so? How can your voice be heard if nobody is listening? How long can you keep waving in the hopeless hope of being seen by the blind? How can you hope to be remembered when you have long since been forgotten? What do you do when your future is so bleak because your rulers have deemed that you are no longer their priority? When the desperation of the people gives way to anger, what happens then?

In one of his poems, Khalil Gibran describes evil. ?Of the good in you I can speak but not of the evil. For what is evil but good- tortured by its own hunger and thirst? When good is hungry, it seeks food, even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters.? Is this what it will take for us to open our eyes? In that case we had better make sure we are prepared to quench the thirst of those who will come looking for dead waters.