Beneath the vast, shimmering sky, the desert stretched endlessly, its golden sands whispering stories of generations past.
In this remote land, where the earth was dry and the winds carried the scent of hardship, a small village stood resilient against time. Modest homes, built from the very dust they called home, nestled quietly among the dunes.
The people here lived a life of struggle, battling the relentless sun and the scarcity of water. Each day was a test of endurance, yet they remained steadfast, bound by the spirit of their ancestors who had thrived here for centuries. To them, the desert was not just land—it was heritage, memory, and the beating heart of their identity.
Many had urged them to leave, to seek comfort in bustling cities where water flowed freely and food was abundant. But how could they abandon the land that had shaped them?
Their ancestors had walked these very sands, gazed at the same sunlit sky, and carved out a life with unwavering determination. To leave was to sever the thread that connected them to their past.
Though life was harsh, they found beauty in simplicity and strength in unity. The sunsets painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, a reminder that even in struggle, there was grace. The cool desert winds at dusk whispered tales of survival, of love, of an unbreakable bond between people and their land.
For those of us who have never known such hardship, let us be grateful for what we have. There are many in this world who struggle daily, yet they hold onto hope, to tradition, and to the love of their homeland.
May we learn from their resilience and never take our own comforts for granted.
Ee Fui Mei
Artwork : EFM
