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- LANGAA RPCIG
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- Additional Information
139 21 hat night when Sam reclined on his bed, he was alone and his body ached profusely. Each time he turned, his entire body ached afresh. He had no painkillers, so he ground his teeth in disgust. Not only that, his wife had not returned home, and that worried him to his wits end. He wished she, like most people from her ethnicity, had fled to the police station for safety. These thoughts kept him wide awake. Besides, he was also terrified of the dark, afraid of what might happen to him. Already, he knew some of his neighbour’s homes were set ablaze that night. For this reason, she struggled with his sleep. Not only did he struggle with sleep, but also his bedroom remained dimly lit, cold and uncomfortable. The wick of his lantern danced lazily in an already cracked glass, which reminded him of why he had woken up at the twilight of dawn just to be among the earliest people to cast his vote for Raila Amolo Odinga and his Orange Democratic Movement. He coveted change, just like most people. It seemed the right thing to do. No. It was the only thing to do, participating in a democratic exercise to elect a new leader. Change had to happen. It was this hope for change that infused his veins like a drug. Hope for a new dawn. Hope for a new beginning. Unfortunately, when it occurred, it turned out be a change he could not believe in. That wish ended abruptly the moment Kivuitu declared Kibaki winner of the coveted post. Hence, Sam’s mind was now cocked in the epic of anger and silence. His dimly lit room was engulfed in an evil darkness of his time, for he knew unsurpassed mayhem of gigantic proportion had erupted. Sam tossed and turned in his hard cold bed again and again and again, hoping for it to come to an end. But the outside was filled with occasional squeals of people being forcefully evicted from their homes. Vulgar voices of haughty and half-drunk young male echoed through the night. Sounds of gunfire rattled the air as he wrapped his arms around T 140 himself, a defeated simpleton in an insane world. He could not sleep under such conditions. “Wafukuze wote. Wacha waende makwao!”20 he heard the men shout. But where was that? Sam heard another voice say, “Onyo! Warning! This is a warning! If you are not from this region, leave! This is our land, and you do not belong here! … Time has come for you to leave our land and return to yours! … Whoever disobeys will die!” His mind swirled with fear and the manifestation of havoc. Then, his thoughts shifted to his wife Wanja. “Was she okay? Had she made a safe escape from the clutches of his assailants?” he wondered. He could not tell because she had no way of letting him know of her whereabouts let alone her security or safety. If only he had had a cell phone, perhaps she could have tried to reach him, but he had none. He had lost his when he was accosted. He tried to picture where she might be, perhaps at the police station, afraid, alone, and hungry. “What if she was hurt?” he wondered. He could not dwell too much on such negativity. He quickly pushed these thoughts from his mind. No, he promised to find on her the next day. Sam’s thoughts became distracted once more when he heard someone yell from outside. “Hawa watu ni wabaya sana. Wao hawawezi kuwakubali watu kutoka sehemu zingine kukunua mashamba kwao . . . Wacha waende. Wezi hawa!21 ” the voices emerged again, while souls of many innocent families cried in Hades for justice. In his solitude, Sam wondered how his wife could have had anything to do with the politicians who were the root cause of the mayhem that now threatened to erode the very fabric of a nation that was the beacon of the eastern region. Now the nation’s history was being re-written in blood. His young family was threatened by forces beyond his control. That night, Sam hardly slept, or rather, when 20 Chase them all . . . Let them return where they came from. 21 These people are bad. They cannot allow people from other ethnicities to buy land where they came from. Let them go back . . . thieves. [34.228.7.237] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 09:01 GMT) 141...