“The tragedy is not that he gives too little, but that we are taught to celebrate his crumbs while swallowing the silence of his crimes.”
There is a man.
With one hand—his less dominant, the one he barely uses—he extends charity. A small donation here. A well-crafted press release there. A gala night under chandeliers. Applause. Cameras. Gratitude. A performance dressed in virtue.
With his other hand—his strong, skilled, calculating hand—he signs deals. He funds bombs. He supplies weapons. He enables war. He partners in silence, profits in shadows, and buries the consequences beneath layers of paperwork and plausible deniability.
One hand builds a school; the other destroys a village. One hand holds a child for a photo op; the other signs off on supply chains that rob that same child of a future.
He is not a man. He is many. He is the system. He is the corporate boardroom with a diversity statement and a defense contract. He is the smiling CEO who plants trees in the morning and drains rivers by dusk. He is the foundation built on blood. He is the double-speak of our modern world.
We are taught to praise the left hand, the giving hand, no matter how little it gives. We are told not to look too closely at the right hand, the doing hand, no matter how much it takes.
But we must look. And not just look—we must name him.
Because until we learn to tell the difference between generosity and guilt-cleansing, between true giving and strategic charity, we will continue to be fooled by suits and slogans.
This is not about hating success. It is about demanding integrity. It is about asking why the same hands that feed the suffering are the ones keeping them hungry.
It is about saying: enough of the show.
Salima
Just thinking out loud over here