Thirty years later, a defector, I return to my country. Each street corner brings a flood of fear, memory and emotion.
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Even though I never wished to come back to Vietnam, my husband wanted to show our teenage sons where we were born. I needed a holiday afterwards to recuperate from the emotional stress.
Mixed emotions churned inside me as I saw Saigon after thirty years. But wait there’s more!
<<Story related to the poem>>
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The defector returns to her country,
She hears the cry, the moan of history.
She learns the wealthy communist devils
Want to migrate and mixed with other peoples.
The communist elites deem Vietnam fearsome:
“Polluted air, unsafe food and poor health system”.
by Women in the Black.