This school assembly was to be different. For it fell to our class to perform. Most of us usually pretended that this would be a tremendous bore. Though, in reality, there was always the hope that we could drag it out for as long as possible; especially if it meant cutting into double maths. But that day saw us preparing to do a live karaoke version of what would become quite possibly the biggest charity record of all time: Band Aid’s Do They Know It’s Christmas. This was a first for British and Irish pop music. The biggest bands of the time formed into a single and spectacular super group. And we would have the chance to dress up as our favourite stars. I recall setting my sights on being a member of Bananarama or else the uber cool Boy George. Imagine how my heart sank when I was lumbered with Phil Collins. These were exciting times for many of us. For we had our very own Man Of Peace mascot in the shape of a certain Bob Geldof. And he had taken it upon himself to rouse the public imagination so that we would all do something about the famine that had gripped Ethiopia from 1983-85. And he somehow worked his magic on school girls like us. After all, neither our teachers nor the government had ever put Africa on the map of our collective consciousness; much less the concept of Empire as the overriding factor contributing to the impoverishment of the so-called Third World. Of course, back then we didn’t know what we do today. None of us had ever heard the term White Saviour Complex; let alone any conceptual understanding of its meaning. We simply thought we were helping to feed the world while letting them know it was Christmas time again. It never occurred to us that we were being tricked into buying into the myth of charity being the cure for malnutrition; while it was left to hunger to put the sparkle back in television. In short, we had no idea that what we were being sold was feel-good capitalism. Although agitation punk band Chumbawamba offered a powerful critique of this just over a year later with its aptly titled debut album: Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records. Yet this was to fall on deaf ears. Quite literally. For it received no airplay on either BBC radio or on any of the odd commercial channels, which back then wielded absolute power when it came to controlling what becomes part of popular culture and what doesn’t. Back then we simply thought we were helping to feed the world while letting them know it was Christmas time again. It never occurred to us that we were being tricked into buying into the myth of charity being the cure for malnutrition; while it was left to hunger to put the sparkle back in television Fast-forward to today and the world is more interconnected than ever. There are multiple competing sources for just about everything. In fact, if anything, we face an entirely dissimilar problem; one of virtual information overload. Yet a quick glance at the news cycle and it’s hard to believe that any time at all has lapsed since 1984. We are still bombarded with ubiquitous images of starving infants with distended stomachs, surrounded by flies. The only difference being that Ethiopia has been swapped for Yemen. And these are the children of someone else’s war. Yet despite knowing all this — no one is doing anything substantial to help protect them from the ongoing armed conflict, nor indeed form the economic blockade that still has not been entirely lifted, if at all. Yet despite this, we are seemingly ready to move on. And it wouldn’t be the first time. For it took some 20 years after Sir Bob’s efforts to bring about some sort of rude awakening for the British government to finally decide to go all out to Make Poverty History. This Tony Blair’s brainchild to secure his legacy post-Iraq; given how he is said to have believed that pulling this off would be bigger than ending apartheid. See, how the resentful white man seeks to steal Mandela’s crown. Or quite possibly he was prompted into action by the rumours of the time suggesting that the man behind Band Aid was going to be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. But then 7/7 happened and Britain was all set to create even more war babies; from Libya to Syria. And now with Trump Town’s Jerusalem shuffle — it’s inevitable that the Middle East will now face imminent violent unrest. And so the cycle of poverty and economic subjugation continues. So, this Christmas time I have rediscovered my soft spot for the knighted Man of Peace. Just as I only now truly understand the power of Chumbawmaba’s warning. Maybe the two could join hands to mobilise the people against the war machines of empires on the march. The writer is the Deputy Managing Editor, Daily Times. She can be reached at mirandahusain@me.com and tweets @humeiwei Published in Daily Times, December 9th 2017.