I have lived long enough to see people grow, gain wealth, became poor, die old while others die before their time. I sometimes regret ever seeing the light of this world, this world is brutal unfriendly and unfair. The most traumatizing thing is that I lived to see my mother humiliated, raped, wounded, dragged on dusty ground and even killed. I saw her scream out of pain, plead for mercy, kneel before men and cried out her heart before being butchered. Blood flow with pressure from her veins sprinkled on the rocky dusty ground and for the first time I saw mud form from blood. When mum got a report from her doctor that the child to be born was a boy, she come home early and broke the news to all of us with joy. That night there was a little argument, my dad wanted the young boy to be a teacher while my mother wanted him to be an engineer. After the argument became hot dad conceded and agreed with mum. Probably today we would be celebrating 20th birth day of my young brother. My mum would prepare a special meal for all of us and let my brother blow some candles but not before he made a wish. We could crack jokes and all of us could bust with laughter. He could be in campus and studying engineering just like mum desired. When the assassinators butchered my mother, they also killed my brother, two months before he could see the light of this world. They killed his dreams and terminated his academic journey before it began. I still remember this nightmare like it happened this morning. My mother did nothing wrong, she was just another good citizen, the only thing she did wrong was to rise up in the morning, go to the polling station and vote for the president of her choice. I regret having woken her that morning to go and practice her democratic right. Our country was peaceful and everyone had the liberty to live, stay, associate and work anywhere within its borders. Then hell got loose. A nation that was once peaceful and united became divided. People from one community rose against those not from their own. Within few days after violence broke, my dad was killed by a bullet while holding peaceful demonstration. I still hate my dad for going to the street to demonstrate against the government. He could have taken us to a refugee camp in the neighboring country just like other people. If they are still married with mum in heaven, I know they are still arguing and the argument is not ending soon. My dad was a university professor who believed in rule of law, he always felt offended when the government went against the constitution. When hell got loose he did quit his job and became a political activist. He became famous within a short time and everyone wanted him to hold the highest office in the country. I was 15 years old. He took me to a political meeting once and mum was really bitter with him. Personally I was a big fun of him and turned to our old black and white television just to hear him talk. He was such a talented speaker. People spoke about him in public and in closest. He was the sent mosses to bring our people from Egypt. What we never knew was that he was making enemies each day. My mum, a house wife always insisted that this was not a good idea. He had a feeling this was not going to end well. Today I wish dad could have listened to her. When elections were held my dad worn with a huge margin, but the incumbent president refused to concede defeat. This was binging of our dark days. Citizens were butchered, blood was shed, and people were wounded. That Wednesday morning I saw them storm into our house and killed my mother. I had seen mother shed tears after my dad died, but I had never heard my mother cry in day light. I saw my pregnant mother fight her assassinators but her efforts bore no fruits. My father’s body was still at the morgue and we were still mourning him. All this time I was hiding in the bush and am yet to forgive myself. I should have been my mother’s savior. I should have picked a log and knocked one of them hard enough to kill and may be my mum and my brother could be alive. I felt a coward to watch them humiliate my mother for no reason. She had not attended even one political rally or demonstration. Her mistake was getting married to dad and voting for him. I promised myself that this was not the end; I will live to fight another day. May be one day I will get a bazooka and revenge the death of my mum and my brother. 20 years have since passed and each day my anger melts away. I have learnt to forgive those who killed my mum and to let my mum and my dad rest in peace. I went through a lot of hardship but thanks to God I got I to my feet after long struggle. No child, country, family or nation deserve to go through what we went through. Let’s appreciate and maintain peace. story by a boy who was born and raised in a war torn country in Africa varsity news. giving you the truth when no one can trace it.
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