Battered and bent, but still standing

Desta Ali

Down the long, steep, steps of Susan’s Bay stands a tall, green five-storey building. It looks weathered and worn, but it stands stubbornly and quietly. During the day it is virtually empty, but I’m sure it houses more than hundred people at night. There is a lot of cracks in its concrete; its roof is made of rusted metal sheets. The building tells a story of time.

Every time I look at it, I hear it say, “I have survived many floods, yet I am still standing. I am a survivor.” It almost makes me fall in love with it, because it reminds me of myself, standing tall in the midst of trials, keeping my head high, and trying very hard not to crumble. The glasses on the windows are broken, yet the bars are still holding on, almost as if fighting hard to maintain security.

The top floor of the building is unpainted. That means it has been added recently to create more space for more people. The bottom floor is incomplete and wrapped with tarps and more rusted metal sheets. It was possibly built as a garage but is now being used as an accommodation for a desperate family. This tells a story of greed, because someone has decided that making money from rent is more important than the safety of people.

I admire the building for all it has gone through and all that happens within its walls. But I also feel sorrow and dread. I know it’s only a matter of time before it crumbles. The land it is built on is a coastal land and not meant for buildings. I am sure its foundations were not made to carry that much weight. I always ponder how many more floods can it survive? How much more erosion can its foundations take? My only hope is that when that day arrives, it will happen during the day, when no one is home.