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Election Day

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A fictional series

Last week:

“PM what yo doing sitting in the dark in yo nightie?”

My brother’s voice booms through the room

“I ain’t celebrating until I know fu sure that we win.”

“Girl, I guarantee you that, in a matter of hours, security will be at yo door to escort you to yo victory parade.”

“I feel so unworthy…. I keep thinking… what would they think of me if they were to find out what I did?”{{more}}

“To be honest with you, sometimes I feel like pulling Christopher aside and tell him to stay away from you.”

“He saved my life you know,”

“Kita he has been messing with your head for nearly twenty years… it is time to let go….”

…I think about Hezron’s words and I am again transported back to that night, when Christopher staggered to my front door….

…I had found him passed out on the living room settee…. I had left him and gone to bed….

…There had been a knock on my door and Christopher had walked in….

“I am sorry about tonight,” he had said. He had suddenly looked away and there had been tears rolling down his cheeks….

I open my eyes! Nothing but red and yellow….

I open my mouth to scream and bellow….

From deep within I rumble and exhale….

My heart decaying, my love turned stale….

Putrefying conscience, my truth confused….

My country raped… heritage abused….

What will we bequeath to our innocence?

When we infect them with political violence….

I have my view you have your view…

Should that destroy a friendship true?

Why are we so angry? Why do we fight each other?

He is not the enemy… Son, he is your brother….

I open my eyes! Nothing but red and yellow….

I open my mouth to scream and bellow….

It is easier for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle….

As I survey what is behind me and cast calculated projections of my future… I wonder…. I have already made so many comprises. I used to be a Seventh Day Adventist Christian. Now my religion has no title. I suppose I could still walk into church and warm a pew; but I am no hypocrite.

So shall a woman lose her soul and gain political power?

What can I do? It is done? Hezron was right. In a few hours they will be coming to escort me to my new office. My only defence is that I started out with good, honourable intentions.

Then I think about Christopher. I can’t help it because he is such a big piece of my puzzle. A big part of the reason I ended up here….

The fiend that lead me astray?

I smile. It is so typical of us humans to salve our conscience by blaming someone else for our transgressions.

Still I think if he had not staggered back into my life, drunk and hurting… that night his father passed away… if he had not begged for the comfort of my warmth – believing that our closeness could chase away the shadows of death… like it used to… forgetting that we were no longer children… that we were now adults, cumbered with the burden of mature lusts… if I had not sold my innocence that night… if I had not tasted and became addicted to Christopher, I would have taken a different path.

I had stood with him… at his father’s grave. I had seen the battle in his eyes; as he warred with the demons that had been trying to destroy him all his life. I had felt a sense of responsibility to save him. I had ignored the guilt of our unauthorised union – which had become a regular occurrence.

My school work had started to suffer. I would skip school to meet him. I would even sleep out. In the end Mrs Cooper pulled me aside and warned me to be careful. I didn’t listen to her. She came home one day and found me and Christopher in a compromising position. Needless to say, I got kicked out and had to end up living with Mommy again.

My teacher Mr. Beckly called me aside one day.

“Kita, what is going on? You’ve gone from a straight A student to barely passing. You’re missing classes. I have to tell you I am really disappointed.” His words had sunk deep like sharp objects, into my chest. I had tried to respond; but suddenly, I could produce nothing but choking tears.

Mr. Beckly had tried to get to the bottom of what was bothering me; but I was not telling. How could I explain to him that, for the first time in my life, I was experiencing love, acceptance and comfort; that my hunger for these things was deep, consuming and irresistible? They were presented to me and I had to have them – even if it meant trading in all that I had worked tirelessly to accomplish.

It was like I was hypnotised and as I walked blindly into the arms of destruction; I had to be snapped out of my mesmerised state by something or someone…. That someone… that something would come when I least expected it….

More next week

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