I read an article about an old man who took to throwing bricks at cars that sped through a cross walk. After the brick hit their cars, the drivers slowed but then sped on without stopping. The police arrested the old man and then released him without charging him. The people rejoiced. The old man served justice in the form of a clay cannon.
I followed the story and remember that the man tried to take legal measures to bring safety to his neighborhood and failed. He took justice into his own hands. Confucian respect for old age and the government’s fear of a mob shrouded the old man in a strong layer of protection. So, breaking the law achieved justice and everyone knew it.
Living in a country where breaking the law is a way to justice blows my mind. The absurdity of it all! Growing up in a country where the symbol of the court is a blindfolded woman holding a scale means that I am ill-equipped to deal with how unfair life is in Asia. I desire almost daily to take justice into my own hands because it’s just not happening like it should.
And, it’s not. I still don’t know what to do with all the injustice I see every day. I get angry, I grieve, I feel powerless. I have it good. I really don’t experience my fair share of it. I’m usually treated with kid gloves being a respected foreigner.
I long for that day, though, I long for that day when justice will prevail. I long for that day when old men need not launch clay cannons at cars to keep their grandkids safe.