“Psssst…. How many times will I call you? Come here fast!”

Saliya returned from her mental escapades and joined the others in the present. She ran quickly and joined the others in the line, in the space that had been created for her. She stretched her neck so she could see what was going on at the front of the line. What she saw left her speechless, eyes and mouth, all wide open. She heard that someone had come to donate relief materials to the internally displaced persons but what she saw in front, was more than a “donation”. Other people had come with “donations” in the past but they never actually donated up to half of what they show to the news channels that were on the scene to cover the event. Indeed, donations to the less privileged had become an event. It was no longer about helping the people; it was now about helping the public image of the “big man” that had come to donate.

However, this “big man” was different, he was actually giving out everything that was shown to the camera. 
From the convoy of luxurious cars that was present in the open square to the heavy security presence in the Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) Camp, she already knew that this man that had come to donate is a “big man”. Saliya came from a very humble background and was taught that “big men” that drove luxurious cars always had skeletons in their cupboard. Her thinking capacity was confined to the small village where she spent all her life before the bandits attacked. How can someone earn so much money from only legitimate sources? This sort of reasoning made her believe that luxury was a concept that only fraudulent individuals could experience. She believed that the proper life was the one she had in the village. She believed that there was nobility in poverty. This misguided belief clipped her wings and already provided a limit for her before she could even fly. 
It's already evening and all the cars have left and the noise had died in the camp. This “big man” gave out every single item he showed to the camera. She held it in her hands and she could see the rest with her eyes; they were all within her reach. Could it be that genuine “big men” actually existed? This would change her whole perspective of life, everything she was told about the limits of honest living may have been a lie. 

This realization sparks a new fire in her. She doesn’t care anymore that she’s referred to as a “melanin reserve” because of the darkness of her skin. She doesn’t care that she’s just twelve but is the tallest girl in the camp even though she’s all skin and bones now. She forgets for that moment that she had to share a tiny room with fifteen people. She doesn’t remember the leaking roof and the decrepit condition of her living space. She can finally move on from that day the bandits attacked, the day her humble life fell apart. This “big man” that actually fulfilled his promise sparked a new fire in Saliya. This place she called hell just transformed in her mind, to an endless stream of possibilities, her stepping stone to “luxury”.