From Shared Lives to Isolated Hearts

Reliving old memories, | remember well that there was a time, not too long ago, when life was lived in communityfully, openly, and without walls.

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In the neighbourhoods of our childhood, boundaries existed only on maps, neither on the ground nor in our hearts. Every joy was communal, every sorrow shared. There was no concept of "my happiness or sorrow is mine alone,” for the happiness or sorrow of one was the concern of many. In any neighbourhood, If a child took their first steps, sweet fritters would find their way to every doorstep. Whenever a cow gave birth to a calf in any household, colostrum cheese was shared among all the neighbours. If someone passed an exam, the entire street would celebrate. When tragedy struck, radios and televisions fell silent, laughter was hushed and celebrations were postponed out of respect. Neighbours were treated like extended family. Their smiles were ours and so were their tears.

But today, that world seems like a dream long lost-like a once-bright photograph, now faded and forgotten in the quiet corner of an old attic drawer. We now live in an age where privacy is glorified. We wear our secrecy like a badge of sophistication. "Don't tell anyone,” "Keep it between us," "It's none of their business"-these phrases, once considered cold or even rude, are now common and even celebrated. We proudly say, "I mind my own business," without realizing that in doing so, we've given up the greatest asset of humanitythe ability to truly connect with one another. Our elders often said, "A shared sorrow is half a sorrow, and a shared joy is double the joy." This wasn't poetic exaggeration-it was lived experience. A neighbour's unemployment was not whispered about; it was responded to. A sick person in one house meant concerned visitors, herbal remedies, generous financial help and prayers from every corner.