Nothing left with me, nothing right at all

Nothing can prepare us for the death of a loved one; the loss brings us grief and pains. It doesn't just fade away. Just when you remember how dear the person was to you, you can't resist the memories and the pain. It has been 4 days of mourning and grief for me. I haven't eaten in all of these time, why should I? I haven't talked to my mum or heard from my dad. Sorrow at the left, weakness and fear at the right. On the fourth night, I had to cry myself to sleep. I had a dream, and in that dream, I saw my mother and she told me not to cry again as it was unnecessary. "Reach beyond yourself", these were her last words to me in the dream and I suddenly woke up sweating and with tears in my eyes, I prayed to God. It was difficult for me to sleep again and so I wanted to get something to eat only to discover that there was neither kerosene nor gas at home. I stayed up all night trying to decipher the meaning of her words to me. I put on the radio by 4:07am prompt and heard that there was a camp for the victims of the war in my city about 10 kilometres away.

Immediately, I got up and started to trek. Although, I was hungry, devastated and weak, I struggled to get there at noon. When I got there, I saw that it was guarded by military personnel. I was quite sceptical to approach any of them but my body somehow managed to do so. I explained my plight to the officers I met and with compassion and pity for me, I was taken in and fed. I saw many people of different tribes, cultures and from all places with gloomy looks and terrified eyes as they were all scared of what might happen next. I was still in thought when I heard a woman cry towards the military men begging them for a chance to take her sick son to a nearby health centre. With anger and cruelty towards her insistence, a soldier pulled her away back to the crowd. While she yet struggled, her sick son started to go towards her direction. Upon reaching his mother's arms, he said "Mummy, why are you crying", this happened to be the boy's last words before he breathed his last.

Seeing what happened drew me to tears, as I cried ceaselessly. The woman was helpless as all she could do was mourn the demise of her only child. I remembered the words of my mother, "Violence doesn't hurt one person, it spreads like wildfire and hurt all who come its way". It did pain me seeing the child die in her arms but it pained me more that my mother had left me alone to the world. The woman was so depressed beyond pacification that in tears she ran towards the soldier claiming that he killed her child. At that very moment I knew what it felt to be at war, it was a stage for death, losses and grief.

I was still bothered until I stumbled on a book on the floor with a camouflage design like that of the army. It had a pen inside it; I picked up the book and opened it. I think it belonged to a soldier. He was writing a letter to his wife telling her how much he loved her and how much he wished to see her soon. But to my greatest surprise, he didn't complete that letter. I wondered why he did not because he professed undying love for her. I decided to take the book and the pen and I turned it into my diary to write my story down.

I did not know where to start from or how to start but I summoned the strength to do it anyways. Love and war are two completely opposite words, as one cannot thrive in the presence of another. At dusk, this woman was still weeping and could not be comforted by anyone at all. It hurt me to see her cry and made me realize the value of family.