The Silent Assassin: Disease

I read an article from America bemoaning how bad things are in the detention centres there. One unnamed person said, “It’s not just Ebola. It’s rampant TB, diphtheria, measles, mumps, scabies, huge HIV, incurable gonorrhoea, syphilis, impetigo, malaria, and child soldiers.”

I had to stop and think, digest and absorb what I just read.

What the hell are our governments doing? Do they want to wipe us out or is it that the Leftists have buried their heads so far down into the sand that they do not realise what they are doing to us? Either way, things cannot continue. They simply cannot.

As a kid back in the early 1960s, I went to a small rural country school. School sores were everywhere. Ear abscesses, boils and fleas were par for the course. Kids had hair lice and scabies. I had friends who came to school with bruises and a few had rickets. They had no lunch.

My school was multicultural before the term had become trendy. All I knew was that my friends were Indian, Maori, Pakeha, Chinese and both rich and poor. Some kids from all backgrounds were the offspring of the landowners and others were the children of the labourers and farm workers. My own childhood was neither town nor country – my father was a “professional” and, as such, we were held in the same high esteem as the teachers, the Church Ministers and the other families who neither resided among neither the landed nor the poor. We had this comfortable position of fitting with both groups and fit in we did.

I traded Vegemite sandwiches for jappatis at lunchtime. My sister’s Indian friends would light a fire in the playground and add water to their flour and cook their lunch on a piece of tin. They would bring “bangles” to school – pretty little bracelets that they would give to my sister before they headed off to go back to India to get married, aged 9. She envied them so much – she told me that they would be going “home” to wear beautiful clothes and be treated like princesses.  

My sister was always rather happy with fairy tales. I remember feeling less optimistic.

One day, I saw my teacher get upset because one of the kids was not paying attention in class. He gave the boy a swift twist of his ear, saying, “Listen! Use these!”, and a flood of pus ran out of his ear as an abscess burst. The teacher looked bloody horrified.

This was in 1960 and here we are, nearly 60 years later, back with scabies, fleas, school sores, measles and the rest.  Hell, we are back to child brides… it makes me wonder what we are accepting?

Why have we turned the clock back? Did we? Or did our government?

Yet here we are, in 2019, turning the clock back to those days of austerity and disease. After the War came polio, and New Zealand closed all schools. Quarantine and risk minimisation was put in to place.

Because of disease.

Somehow, it is now politically incorrect to do the same thing  – quarantine – today for fear that we may offend someone, somewhere. The awful thing is that the offended person may be our prime minister, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up at the D-Day Commemoration. It seems to be her style that she wants to join the UN and to hell with Commonwealth. Maybe she has decided it is a choice? In which case, there is an even greater reason for concern, because it is not her bloody choice, it is ours. I choose the Commonwealth over the UN every day.

Come on Winston, pull your finger out and do the right thing.

God help us. Someone has to do something because our government seems incapable.

Back then, there was no mass migration from nations plagued by syphilis and incurable gonorrhoea; there was no Ebola and no child soldiers.

But now we have nations across the world being threatened with a health crisis of unimaginable proportions – because it is politically incorrect to speak about the Silent Assassin: Disease.

We CANNOT allow mass migration and unscreened entry into our precious nation. We cannot. This is not a numbers game for political ends: it is vital to our survival.

I find it incomprehensible that I am actually looking back on the early 1960s with fond regard – because the boils, scabies and rickets have nothing on what we will face if we allow unfettered entry into our beloved New Zealand.

God defend New Zealand because no one else is.