SMILE
Smile
….breathe...breathe…BREATHE IN, ooouhh, BREATH OUT!
Silence.
Ghastly silence.
My
whole body was shaking involuntarily, my blood stained hands had a mind of
their own, clawing at the wound on my belly. It must be lucky day! The bullet
had gone right through my abdomen, slightly below the navel, missing all the vital
organs and exiting from the back, only grazing a rib in the process, I hope.
Sergeant Makali had been shot right between the eyes as he wrestled with his
first aid kit, trying to stop me from bleeding to death. Damn these Warriahs!
Damn those child hood movies that made me enlist! Damn this hot scorching sun!
Damn the dust blowing into my eyes! OH the pain …oh the thirst…The world whirls
round and round, my eyes get blurry,
bullets fly around me as I strain to see
whose lifeless body is lying next to me, blood dripping from his head, blown
open by grenade shrapnel…dying I am and all these random thoughts flood past me.
Growing up, Kenya had always been a beacon
of hope despite being located smirk in the middle of the horn of Africa; Kenya
my home had defied all odds to remain a peaceful state. With rampant coup
d’états being the main stay in Uganda, political turmoil in Ethiopia and an
utter breakdown of civility in both Somalia and Rwanda, Kenya, the land of the
Lion King and ever smiling people remained steadfast, peaceful and prosperous.
It is against this background that I was born, into a family of long standing
military service. My great grandfather having served alongside British troops
in World War 2, receiving an honorary award for “outstanding service and
bravery”! Truth be told, the man never fired a shot in his life other than at
training, having been the assistant chef of his Back-Slash battalion. His son and my father followed suit, wearing
his shoes just right, each having a long lasting and highly decorated career, at
best having watched actual combat and wars from the comfort of their white
leather sofas in the piped-music filled living rooms of their upper suburbia
homes in the leafy Magwijini neighborhood of Nairobi. Back then, the military
was where one went to “further” their career, serve the state and retire with a
handsome bank account topped off with countless tales of ones globe-trotting
tales involving escapades during various peace-keeping missions. All this however took a dramatic turn, 6
months after I had completed my training at the Mabavuni military
barracks…KENYA WAS AT WAR!
Lying here in this God-forsaken furnace, I
can’t help but smile, of all the stories I've heard, movies watched and books
I've read, none could prepare me for
this…this is what they call death huh?!
The loss of all senses, sickening pain in my gut, blood dripping down the left
temple of my head, yes, not my blood…..then and there, in the midst of all this
chaos, the most beautiful sight I have ever seen …two…two stray clouds dart
gracefully across the deep blue sky, two become one, slowly coming to ta trance
like pause right above my battered body and touch…I make out the faint image of
a smile, the breath taking smile of my
two month old daughter that I left back home, the suns’ rays piercing through
her beautiful gaze…
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