I struggled today as I put on my jeans. All I could think of was the 300 workers who died in a Karachi textile factory two weeks ago.
Separated by distance and culture, sometimes it’s hard to feel for the nameless poor that make our clothes, our electronics, our food. But this morning, I could not help but imagine their names, their hopes, how they lived, the faces of their children and of their families.
Their deaths were as tragic as they were avoidable. The owners of the factory have fled in shame and fear, but left behind over $5 million in bank accounts. It makes me cry to think of what small portion of this Read more