On November 2022, as I sat in my committee on the Commission of the Status of Women during Model United Nations, a university student dressed as a refugee addressed the committee. She spoke of the experience of fleeing from a country and how the fact that she was a woman completely altered this experience for her. The student articulated how social protection systems failed to aid her, the lies she was told as she fled the only place she knew, and put inequality in the context of poverty and chaos. However, she said two words that really struck me and eventually led to the creation of this poem–false hope. 

As I wrote these words on my sticky note, the reality of a world of betrayal and extinguished hope hit me. Hope and its definition vary amongst many peoples around the world. For example, for me, hope is the emotion I feel when I check my grades after I have taken a test. On the other hand, hope looks entirely different for someone who is fleeing their country from terrorism or an oppressive government or someone who lives in a poverty-filled society that thrives in violence and chaos. To these people, hope is the spark they feel inside themselves when they think of a place where "false hope does not dictate." 

In the media, we hear stories of natural disasters induced by climate change, terrorism and violence, corruption and scandals, poverty and inequality, and above all, false hope. In these places, we can genuinely see that love and compassion are indeed taboos as their society crawls with demons and devils in the guise of saviors and protectors. I hope the audience can understand the lives of these people who live under the constant pressure of corruption, betrayal, chaos, and violence as they are suppressed and tempted with offers of false hope. I believe that if we put ourselves in their shoes, we can pray and arrange for a place of safety for them in this world of deception.