Famine

by Joe Armstrong

Famine. Famine. Can I imagine it?

Famine. Either a feast or a famine.

Feasts I know. But famine?

Work drying up, the closest I know. Money tight. Or doing a fast, perhaps.

But famine. Famine!

Hunger. I’ve been peckish for a meal. But everyday persistent aching hunger?

Hunger. Countrywide hunger. A nation on its knees.

Beggared. The shame of hunger. Unasked for. Not chosen.

Crops fail. Shock. Fear. Courage! We are strong.

Crops fail again. And again.

Soup kitchens. Food parcels. No money for rent.

Disaster.

Bodies shrink. Tall emaciated figures on Custom House Quay in Dublin: our ancestors.

Children dead. Relatives dead. Neighbours dead.

The boat to England, America, anywhere away from this godforsaken land of hunger and famine.

Famine.

Can we imagine it?

Joe Armstrong © 2014

Famine. Famine. Can I imagine it? Written by Joe Armstrong, it was first delivered in the presence of dignitaries including Taoiseach Enda Kenny TD at National Famine Commemoration, Strokestown Park, Co. Roscommon, Sunday 11 May 2014. Broadcast on RTE television.

Note on Famine. Famine.

Famine. Famine. Can I imagine it? I tried to visualise what it was like to be destitute during the Irish famine. It left such an indelible scar on the Irish psyche.

Compared to the famine, the Covid-19 lockdown of 2020, while tragic, stressful, worrying and fearful for so many people, is of a different scale to the Great Hunger. A million of us are not dying. A million of us are not emigrating. Most of us are well fed, clothed and housed compared to the catastrophe of the Irish famine.

Our ancestors hadn’t enough food to stay alive. Many of us are putting pounds on during lockdown. Tens of thousands of our ancestors were destitute. Most of us have the protections of the State to assist us, such as the Pandemic Unemployment Payment. We stand in compassion with all who suffer and with gratitude for all that we have and are.