Ouagadougou and I don’t know just about everything.

I had to google Ouagadougou, only to be told that it is the capital of Burkina Faso, which I also had to google. This is the first time I have ever heard the country name Burkina Faso. Did they name it yesterday?? So embarrassing, the amount of things I don’t know. Technically, just about everything.

Anyway, we’re just too fragile, human beings. The number of people who are damaged to the extent that they could kill others like this, we are just too frail. Although, I guess we are stronger than this is far far FAR greater numbers. Focus on them. (A note to myself.)

Jugglers in Bryant Park.


Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

View all posts by Stacy Horn →

2 thoughts on “Ouagadougou and I don’t know just about everything.

  1. My sister used to work for some scientists involved in agriculture. They would often travel to places that were desperately poor, like Burkina Faso, to help them with food production. My sister was their do-everything-secretary (not a scientist) so she would tell me about getting visas for them, which were fun stories about going to not quite ready for prime time embassies. Some people she knows are still doing this sort of humanitarian work in places like Burkina Faso. Thankfully, she doesn’t think anyone she knows was hurt. But when you think about the terrorists killing people who are only there to help, it makes me very angry. I realize some of these misguided terrorists could eventually see the light and therefore be rehabilitated to being civilized, but I fear for their safety should I ever be in a position to take one of them down in the act. Not that I could or would – whoever knows such a thing in advance? It’s like after my house was burgled many years ago. I felt like I wanted to bludgeon someone with a baseball bat. But I wouldn’t have. Probably.

  2. No, I also feel so enraged and hopeless when people doing humanitarian work are killed. Of all people. And I’m no saint. My apartment was broken into THREE times and even though I was not personally harmed the thought of low-lifes walking around my apartment, taking what I worked hard for … it was very upsetting. So I know how you felt! My greatest relief was the cats were not harmed.

    (All my windows have bolts now.)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share via
Copy link
Powered by Social Snap