![]() | June 2016 |
Letter to the editorWhat life for this man and his family?In my thirty-three years living in Dublin I have read a lot about drug-dealing, drug-taking, and how it happens in broad daylight in our capital city. I have never witnessed this, only images from our televisions screens—a sheltered life, you might say, but my life has not been sheltered: it is one of struggle in my personal, working and political life and all that entails. On Thursday 14 May at about 1:30 p.m. I made my way from a protest outside Leinster House and was rushing to see the finale of the Non-Stop Connolly Show, which was finishing up that afternoon, and ran through Sycamore Street, the side street between the Olympia Theatre and Temple Bar. It was a beautiful warm summer’s day, and outside the Olympia a worker was having a cigarette. And there in the laneway was a lad in his mid-twenties; his age was hard to gauge, as he looked old beyond his years. His trousers were down around his ankles and, for all the world to see, a needle in his hand, he was injecting into the side of his left thigh. His legs were all purple, and I was sickened by the sight of this human being, and all I wanted to do was get around him ASAP. What life for this man and his family? How do we collectively as a people stop this? Paul Doran Dublin |
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