To whom it may concern... or more accurately, to whom it may concern nothing at all:
When you're sick, in pain, and exhausted from all sides... and you think—through your sheer stupidity—that there are "parties," "organizations," "human rights lawyers," and "legal support" waiting for you on the other side of the pain, rest assured that you've just played a very long joke... with a more bitter ending than the medicine you don't have.
I sent a request for help. I explained, I pleaded, and I attached papers and reports .
The result?
Silence.
A silence heavier than a conscience during a coffee break.
Then you suddenly discover that "rights" is a seasonal business, just like citrus fruits, and that cases are categorized according to the size of their potential return, not according to the injustice suffered by their owner. If your case isn't financially prosperous, then it's "unripe," not worth picking, not even responding to.
Then someone appears who "sympathizes" with you. He offers to "look at your file," "review the documents," "get back to you later," but he begins his tone as if to say, "Convince me that you're worthy of my opening my email."
My friend, I'm not asking for a sip of water from the hand of Pharaoh; I'm asking for something called justice.
How naive I was to think that the law was the last resort.
I discovered that the law is like a bus station in a ghost town: it exists, but no one arrives, and no one leaves.
Then they coldly say:
> "Even if you win, you might lose. The court is unforgiving. The administrative decision isn't easy to appeal. It's complicated, thorny, and... can you pay?"
Oh, sorry! I forgot to include my invoice in the first email.
You professionals at recycling suffering into PDF files...
You gentlemen who feed on people's tragedies like parasites feed on exhausted bodies...
Relieve us of the "human rights" record, unless the person is wealthy or at least marketable.
I am not asking for charity, nor for sympathy.
I am asking for something very simple: that a person be treated like a human being.
For once.
But I seem to have forgotten something important...
Dignity, in this country, requires a residence permit.


