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Where is your compassion By Fabian stennett

--- “Where Is Your Compassion?” — A Cry from the Margins By Fabian Stennett They mocked me when I was ill. Not with concern or quiet presence, but with laughter sharpened like knives, cutting through my weakness like it was a joke. I lay in pain — real, raw, relentless — and they jeered. They made my suffering a punchline, my body a battlefield they didn’t bother to understand. And when I looked for empathy, I found only performance and conditions. They called my path a complication. Laughed at my dreadlocks — called them dirty, rebellious, unwanted. But these locks are not fashion. They are covenant. They are roots. They are thunder rolled into strands. Each coil carries the names of my ancestors, the prayers of Marley, the wisdom of Selassie, the revolution of silence that refused to bow. Still, they told me: “Cut your hair, trim your locks, then maybe we’ll help you.” But where is your compassion when it must be bought with my obedience? Must I shear away my spirit just to earn your...