Damn it happened again. Some dimwits have yet again resorted to violence and the murder of innocents to push an agenda they claim is ours. The lady reading the news bulletin wore a sombre face. It was her job and she did it well, I wonder whether she sympathises with we the unseen seen victims who will most definitely be sacked into this storm.
Every evening I quickly switch through the news headlines in all networks desperately hoping and praying that one more day passes without an incident. The last time was not particularly good. All the media outlets were awash with the news.Some deranged souls entered a house of prayer armed with semi automatic weapons and indiscriminately opened fire on innocents, women and children included.
I crossed my fingers and waited for the next part. "Please Lord, let them not be from my community. please please" I pleaded with my god. The last two words came out as more of whispers instead of a silent prayer. Everyone turned towards me. Everyone in the living room was stone cold, mute and fixated on the small television screen. "Oma, can't you see we are trying to listen to the news here, or would you rather read it to us? foolish child!" My Father shouted at me as he turned back towards the television set.
I did not answer him nor try to justify myself. I knew better.The ongoing insecurity in the country had worked him up too. His words came from a fearful and frustrated soul. Quite understandable because he was a moderate.Everyone in the house was tensed. I could see it in my mother's face, feel it from my younger brother. The house help could mot take it anymore and she left in a hurry.
Once again the people who claimed responsibility were from my community. This time they even left a video recording promising even more blood letting in the future.I just felt my heart sink. I was tempted to be angry at god to ask him why. Why would he allow so few people to cause so much pain across the board? Then I remembered the writings about god's infinite wisdom. I kept my peace having faith that all of it would work out for the greater good here and in the next life.
That attack was the last straw. The security agencies all descended on our neighborhood. They were everywhere looking for possible hostiles, radicalization centers and illegal aliens.They searched everywhere door to door. Nine officers forced their way into our tiny abode. They could barely fit in but they insisted on everyone entering the house. Two female officers went to the corner where we prepared our meals and took everything out of its place. The utensils were left on the floor, the flour had been poured all over the table,sugar container was left open next to the paraffin bottle. Everything was a mess as they moved on to check the sofa and feel through each cushion. Others went into my parents bedroom and. searched it through.
I felt embarrassed,helpless and a tad bit angry. How could they do this to all of us? An officer emerged from our bedroom and asked me for my identification card. I could feel every single strand of hair on my body stand up in his presence. I was so scared I almost wet my pants. Wherever I placed that damned card was the last thing I could remember even if I tried. I rarely used it because it brought me more trouble than opportunities.The one time I needed that little piece of card more than ever, I could not find it. I made feeble attempts to try and locate it but I knew that wouldn't happen. The whole house had been turned upside down when an entire station showed up at the front door.
The least patient among them ordered in a heavy tribal accent that I be escorted to the awaiting Landrover. I can't remember being more scared. I had spent my entire life in this country. In fact I had never gone past my county but now I was being suspected of being an alien or whatever they would decide to charge me with should matters go south.
My mother followed the officers behind tears in her tired eyes pleading with the officers not to take me away, but they were under orders. My father was pacing up and down the verandah making frantic calls and absolutely livid, but he too could only do so much. I am now writing this article from a stadium with hundreds more people from my community and a few others who are not. We are all waiting to be screened in order to be released.
All I want is to go home now. I can no longer bare the cold nights and I'm worried for my family. I am tired, frustrated and hungry. They will not let anyone in and we have not taken a bath nor eaten for two days. If you get this letter out there, please send us some food.