Chapter 24 — The Alley Is No Longer On The Map

The idea of organizing a memory exhibition about Gieng Chung alley came from an unexpected proposal from Lam. While everyone was tensely discussing battle plans, a ten-year-old girl crept into the crowd of adults, holding up a drawing book.

"I thought of it! Let's create an exhibition, show everyone how beautiful our alley is, so everyone loves our neighborhood like we love it!" The girl spoke, her eyes bright, pointing to the scribbled but colorful pictures she had drawn of the common well, the tamarind tree, and Khanh's car repair shop.

A child's innocent idea is, strangely enough, the missing piece in an adult's plan. Khanh, after a while of thinking, decided to turn that idea into a more systematic campaign: an exhibition of photos and stories about the history of Gieng Chung alley, held right at the common well yard, inviting local media and community news sites to report.

Khanh posted a notice inviting contributions right in front of the car repair shop, with familiar handwriting inviting people to bring any photos, items, or stories associated with Gieng Chung alley, no matter how small, that are worthy of respect and sharing. The whole neighborhood started preparing for a week. Ms. Nam Xoi searched for old black and white photos from the time when the village was first established, photos of the well when it was still an earthen well that had not yet been cemented, photos of neighborhood meetings during the difficult subsidy period. Uncle Bay Thoai, although initially skeptical about the effectiveness of this, eventually enthusiastically contributed the story of the years he spent working as a motorbike taxi driver to support his family from the money he earned around this area.

Mrs. Vui told the story of her husband, Uncle Hai Moc, who dug the common well to save the whole neighborhood through the fierce drought last year. Her voice choked with emotion when mentioning her late husband. Khanh spent many nights writing a long open letter, telling the entire story of Gieng Chung alley - not just a story about land or property, but a story about a community that has overcome poverty, natural disasters, and loss together, to maintain a rare bond in a time when people are increasingly separated from each other between high-rise concrete walls.

*

The exhibition took place on a weekend morning, the communal well yard was decorated simply but cozy with tarpaulins stretched as roofs, strings of flashing lights strung around tamarind trees, and dozens of photos and drawings hung along the temporary fence erected around the yard.

Mo, hearing the news from Khanh, took a day off from the industrial park to help, bringing his wife and children along, setting up a few tables and chairs borrowed from the ward cultural house. "Let me take care of the sound, I'm familiar with these radio speakers." He said, his hands quickly connecting the speaker wires, no different from when he was a high school student busy helping his friends in all class activities.

Many residents in the project area, including people from other residential clusters also in the area of clearance, came to attend, bringing their own stories and family memorabilia to contribute to the common display space. An old man brought an old radio that had heard the news of victory last year, and a middle-aged woman brought a chipped tea set that was left from her mother's dowry. Each simple item, when placed next to each other in the exhibition space, tells a common story much greater than their individual material value.

A few reporters from local newspapers and community news sites were also present, recording and interviewing people about memories associated with the area about to be cleared.

The sound of music coming from the old speaker that Mo had just finished connecting echoed loudly throughout the well yard, mixed with the sounds of laughter and children running around among the temporary but enthusiastic display booths. The atmosphere that morning was different from the heavy tension of previous meetings, carrying a tone of both nostalgia and hope, as if the whole neighborhood was writing a new chapter together in their own story, instead of just waiting for someone else to decide their fate.

"Can you share your thoughts about this project?" A young reporter asked Ms. Nam Xoi, the tape recorder pointed straight at her.

"I'm not against development, everyone needs development these days." Ms. Nam Xoi replied, her voice slow but full of enthusiasm. "I just hope people don't think of this alley as just land or money. Here there is sweat, tears, and the entire lives of so many families. I hope that when building something new, people remember to keep a little bit of the old, so that future children and grandchildren will know how their grandparents lived."

Khanh stood to speak in front of the crowd, re-reading the open letter he had painstakingly prepared. His voice rang out with emotion but still maintained composure, without being offensive or provocative.

"We do not oppose the development of the city. We understand that urbanization is an inevitable trend. But we believe that development does not necessarily mean the complete erasure of memories, the complete eradication of communities that have been built up over many generations. We want a development with heart, where old and new values can coexist, complement each other, instead of excluding each other."

The crowd applauded loudly when he finished his speech. Little Lam stood in the front row, clapping his hands most enthusiastically, his face beaming with pride because his small idea had become such a big event. Mrs. Nam Xoi stood next to the girl, gently wiping tears of emotion, not forgetting to pat her granddaughter's shoulder as a wordless compliment.

The ward officer in charge of the area, also present as a guest, approached to shake Khanh's hand after the speech, his voice full of sympathy. "You did a great job. A peaceful, reasonable approach to this situation is much easier to create consensus than protests and harsh complaints. I will report the situation to superiors and support a harmonious solution for people."

Khanh's speech, along with the emotional images and stories displayed, quickly spread on local news sites and social networks that afternoon. Many articles and short videos about the exhibition attracted tens of thousands of views and thousands of comments expressing sympathy for Gieng Chung alley residents, questioning the social responsibility of urbanization projects.

*

That evening, at the Tan Nguyen office, Vy received a series of messages from colleagues sending links to articles and social network posts about the exhibition. She opened each article, looked at each photo, listened to the recording of Khanh's speech posted, feeling both emotional and worried.

She knows, this is a double-edged sword. Public pressure can be a lever to help her convince the board of directors to reconsider the decision to cut back plans, but it can also make the company feel threatened, reacting in a tougher, more defensive way instead of being flexible and giving in. She has witnessed similar cases in the industry, where media pressure caused the leadership of some companies to become defensive, closed, and even speed up the enforcement process to avoid prolonged public attention instead of making the expected concessions.

Her phone rang, Mr. Binh's number appeared on the screen.

"Have you seen the news?" Mr. Binh's voice rang out, not angry as she feared, but carrying a serious, considered tone. "The board of directors is in an emergency meeting to assess the media impact. Tomorrow, prepare a full report, restating your original proposal, along with an analysis of the reputational risk if we don't make adjustments. Perhaps this is your chance to convince the board again."

Vy hung up the phone, her heart pounding with hope. Khanh's sincere open letter, the naive idea of a ten-year-old child, and the solidarity of an entire community, have finally created a new light, a second chance that she is determined not to let slip this time.

She texted Khanh that night, even though it was late. "I just received a call from Mr. Binh. Your exhibition has had an impact. Tomorrow I will present the proposal again to the board of directors. Thank you, and thank you little Lam."

A few minutes later, a reply message appeared. "Don't thank me. Thank the neighbors, thank Lam. Good luck tomorrow. My neighbors are waiting for good news."

Vy looked at that short message, a small smile appeared on her lips in the quiet late night of the office. She closed the computer, packed her things and prepared to go home, but before leaving, she lingered to open the document one last time, reviewing each number and each argument that she would present tomorrow, determined not to waste the precious opportunity that had just opened up from the efforts of the simple people in that small alley.