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The high road

Two bodies were found in our village this morning, slumped next to each other inside a tricycle parked for the night. I don't know who they are and why they're now dead. Maybe they were bad people; maybe they made poor choices that led to their fate. Tonight, I don't want to guess anymore. My Facebook newsfeed has been keeping a tally, and I am on the side that calls for respect for human rights.

Early this afternoon, I lit a candle for these two souls, and as I did, I found myself despairing whether we as a people were fated to live our lives in such indignities: barely eking out a living, perpetually clamoring for a savior, then hanging all our hopes on heroes who often don't have a clue. Are we really doomed to live such small lives?

Then today also came news of the UN Arbitral Tribunal ruling in favor of the Philippines, saying there is no legal basis for China's 9-dash line claim. I am reminded there remains a high road; that our small country, with what little resources we have, can take on a giant like China and argue for what is right.

There is a high road. There are many people, mostly poor, falling dead like flies. But there is a high road.

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