The price for Justice

14th August 2021,

Reports from an Unknown city, in a unknown state, somewhere in an unknown country

He had woken up by 3am, Hissing and sighing, the day before had stirred so much anger within, he was investing his energy into stilling the storm and focusing on his creator.

In the eyes of the world the state where he lived had moved on since 2001, there had been relative peace…at least that is how it was reported, with exception of the recorded bouts of violence at intervals.

But there had never really been peace, week in week out, all year round, all the drama the city of had been known for was transferred to the remote villages and local governments where the media could not reach, where the deaths could be unaccounted for, and where the citizens where not prominent enough to be attended to.

You can add that they were too helpless to help themselves, they were just farmer’s who generationally had invested their lives in providing food for the other parts of the State and country, they loved to dance under the moon light, and they loved the feel of the sun on their backs while they tilled their lands and feed a troubled nation.

A troubled nation who didn’t count them worthy to receive protection, from unidentified flying objects who usually came at night to slit their throats as though they were offered for sacrifice, to an unknown God,

They didn’t understand politics, they didn’t know religion, they only knew love, fun and work, and the faces of their heroes who came weekly to buy off their produce for peanuts, this was sufficient joy, they were created to serve!

Uncountable villages had been wiped out and occupied, by unknown men, at least as identified by the media and the security agencies.

Generations to come will have to believe that unidentified flying objects (UFO’s) came to their villages and wiped out every memory and trace of their culture, lineage and heritage.

Now these UFO’s are back to the city, where the victims can afford smart phones and data to share gory videos and reports of the evil our non challance has caused us, we thought we had our city back, but it had never really been peaceful!

We were just selfish and unconcerned, lackadaisical and political about issues relating to life and death, so we never noticed that the distant cries for help from victims were becoming louder and louder, closer and closer

Now we are back here…

Everyone is home, forced to sit at home, we had become reporters, reporting to the world about what isn’t new, Shouting, “its time to pray”, we pray and negotiate for peace because we smell the blood in the air, we know the atmosphere has changed, we now hear the gunshots in our comfy beds.

Hypocrites!

We can’t wait for relative peace to return so we can go on with our empty lives,

How did we arrive here?

Where we can walk past a human being lying helplessly and grasping for life and continue on to our businesses and shops, events and gatherings?

Where the sight of trucks moving lifeless bodies only produces a sigh?

Where we are only concerned when our relatives are at risk or being affected?

And we call it being resolute in the face of darkness? No, we are just like the proverbial frog that was boiled to death by hot water because it kept adjusting to the gradually changing temperature of its environment

Who is next?
The morgues are full?
Graves are being reused!
The media is biased!
The security agencies are sensational!
The government is almost non existent!

There is so much anger and darkness in the hearts of men.

Our problems are deep seated within us, the same dearth that spikes religious and ethnic wars, is the same dearth that breeds cultism and armed robbery.

What’s the next call to make?
A call for peace?
A call for prayer?
A call for tolerance?

Maybe a call for justice will suffice, But how can justice thrive when there is no righteousness?

How can justice thrive when the administrators of justice and the enforcers of the law have lost their credibility.

One generation may have to lay down it’s life for the future generations to experience what the sacrificial generation dreams of.

Selah.

It was morning already.