Arena by the canal

She’s happy. She’s thrilled, in fact. She can see the changes. She’s been noticing it for many years now. It was not so long ago that she had to struggle to bring whatever cheap food her salary could afford. Now she has some space for a couple of luxuries such as mayonnaise, but the best brand, and frozen lasagne. One negative aspect of these changes is that her husband has been drinking her money more and more, but as long as the mayo is there, it’s a good sign. It means that she could get everyone she needed, and there was still enough to buy it.

She was able to find free treatment for her pregnancy issue, and now her life was complete. The little boy is 2, and she has so many dreams for him. She knows that she managed to improve, and she moved from the underground of society and now has full sight of what happens above, she dreams with the top. But she knows it’s not for her, it’s for the boy. She will do anything she can to help get him there.

Her daydreaming becomes even more intense when she looks through the window and sees the tip of the new stadium. Sorry, they don’t call it like that anymore. She sees the tip of the arena. The big event is just months away, but the arena will remain to show everyone that progress is all around. We’re marching forward.

On her way to work every day, she will choose as slightly longer path just so she can walk beside the massive structure. It’s a way of never forgetting the greatness that awaits her son. In the meantime, her son plays on the tiny street in front of his house. His friend’s mum is watching both kids crawl and have fun on the once dirt road, now only dirty.

They all see the massive structure. It’s impossible not to see it. It’s big and it’s new. But just like everyone who sees something every single day, several things disappear behind routine. They do see the arena, but they don’t see the canal. The canal that transports the untreated sewers from their very homes.

There are several other things that they don’t see, but now not because they don’t see any longer, but because the can’t see it. They can’t see the disease that is infecting the little two-year-old. They can’t see that the little one should be using most of his body’s energy to develop his brain, but instead he’s using it to fight this disease from the canal. And they will think that the boy is lazy in years to come, but they won’t be able to see that his lack of concentration is not his fault.

At some point they will stop seeing the arena. Perhaps it evens goes back to the status of stadium, who knows. And the mayo in the fridge might see some more fancy items. They might think about getting a new smart phone, and maybe even a car; and new shoes to step on the muddy and filthy canal banks.

Have I missed something?