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Olivia Coady
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Decks by Olivia Coady
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My Speech
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Her name was Amina. She was 5 years old and weighed just 22 pounds, about the size of a healthy 1-year-old. Every morning in her village in northern Somalia, Amina would wake up not to the sound of laughter or birds or an alarm clock, but to the ache of an empty stomach. Her mother, once a proud farmer, now spent her days walking miles just to find clean water. Drought had stolen their crops. War had stolen their safety. One day, Amina collapsed in the dirt while trying to follow her mother to the well. She hadn’t eaten in two days. There was no hospital nearby. No emergency number to call. Just silence, dust, and the weight of a mother holding a child who was slowly fading. Amina died the next morning. She didn’t die because of some rare disease or accident. She died because she couldn’t get enough food. A bowl of rice might have saved her life. And the most painful part? Her story isn’t rare.
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