“The poverty line” is the official level supposedly needed to achieve a basic living standard. Updated by the World Bank in October 2015, the new figure of $1.90 was born as a more accurate approximation of the changing costs of living that people around the world need to cover.

Governments may have been forced to resort to facts and figures to explain poverty, which I personally consider completely unnecessary (if not mere misleading information), but we should expect and demand effective action from our leaders.

I would not go so far as to say that it is useless or impractical. In some way, statistics can offer some insight into the subject. And yet it is a proven fact that all the measures taken have been thus far incapable of triggering an upturn in wellness, especially in war-torn and famine-stricken countries. In my opinion, the problem arises when we eventually fall into a state of contentment.

Mainstream media abounds with opinionated journalists claiming that the international community is expected to shoulder all the responsibility for the issue. Once more, another fallacious reasoning like saying that by all accounts, little can be done either as a single person or as an individual country. It never ceases to amaze me how we dare accept these premises as facts.

The plight of the poor is our own worst enemy. Should a worthy war exist, it must be fighting poverty. And fighting poverty means going to any lengths to overcome the always unfair inequality. Because as familiarity breeds contempt, inequality breeds injustice.

As if it had not been enough for Third World people who, on a daily basis, are suffering the starving conditions of their countries, some Europe and North American leaders would still look down on their counterpart leaders (of the so-called “developing” countries) and, at the same time, the developed world looks away when thousands of people are literally in a state of extreme famine.

The moment I took the picture above, I slipped and injured the big toe of the left foot. My toe was bleeding and I was unable to control the sharp pain. Some of the men that were sitting down on the floor suddenly rose to their feet and inquired after my injury. They gave me directions to the closest pharmacy and one of them even provided me with a makeshift bandage. All politeness and hospitality. Given for free. Now, as an afterthought, I feel responsible for their lack of resources. I have more than I will ever need. They will always have much less than they deserve.

“To eradicate poverty we need many hands. I only have two” ― Vicente Ferrer.