Dear God
D ear God, I ’m disturbing you—well, my mother says you listen to everyone, so you have to listen to me too. I often hear people say that you love the rich very much. If that’s true, then why did you send poor children like us to this world? And if you had to send us, why send us to a country as utterly poor as Bangladesh, God? People here are so strange. In the last two or three months, so many children have died of measles. I cried secretly for them. But look at the grown-ups—no one seems to care! They are always busy staring at their phones, watching funny videos, laughing, or taking pictures of their food. Even the uncles who write big books and stories haven't written a single line for those gone children. How can everyone be so heartless? I stayed silent back then, but after hearing about what happened to Ramisa, I am terrified. Tell me God, shouldn’t I be scared? No matter how much I talk, I’m only seven years old like Ramisa. Rahima Bua said a monster ate Ramisa. And she ...