The Begging of Protests

That same day in the city of Nizzra, just after the quantum leap of light had began to sip dryer and more dryer— through the coverings of the thickening haze.

The bright rays of the sun had instantaneously filtered it lights in the cool atmosphere despite the floating dust carried off into the wind.

Activities around the Independence Square were transmitted live, through a rebroadcast program, right from the state capital, via Central Cable Network: including the ravenous social mediaplatforms–with tweets which the government hated— had already saturated online.

Thick anxious crowds measuring the size that no one seemed to had ever seen or heard of, during the previous protests, chattered the frontline— and moved away from the fringes of the city into the main metropolis, marching boldly into the street of the I–Square.

The citizens watching the protests through the televisions were astonished by the crowds synchronous movements into the Independence Square.

More exodus of civil right activist, in different towns and remote communities were seen piling on the streets of Nizzra, and spreading right into the alleys— with chanting of slogans as they join forces with the rest unhappy protesters— singing there way into the arena to earn a generous freedom, from the years reign of the Lopadans' rule.

Millions of people outside the city of Nizzra took a quick personal interest about the protests, and sat actively glued to their television sets— to watch the protest final outcome.

Those who had earlier heard about the social triggers of the protests, helped in spreading the news far abroad— through major streaming platforms.

Many within the state and different regions were simultaneously informed about the event and we're invited upon to the protesting locations.

(DMs) were quickly circulated to many localities within just a short period of time, carrying different kinds of rumors about the protests on radio and TV programs.

These were the mediums, that the social influencers and media celebrity channels, through which many could reach popular cities and towns to galvanize people into the streets of Nizzra.

For those that were watching on the televisions and phones devices.

Turmoils could be heard from the backgrounds at different extreme points of the Independence Square ordering announcements.

It had also started to stir up chaos at some quarters of the city center in Nizzra.

People were shouting in bewilderment— as they were simultaneously tune-on to different stations, already connected to live transmissions.

Those who felt to participate physically in the civil movements, all came out for solidarity in the streets— at different towns singing the same songs of hope.

At this point nobody knew they were people paid amongst the crowds by the Lopadans, to incites riots and disrupt the aims of the protests.

Everybody watching could see the bulk portions of different building structures live on the screen all filled up with crowds— cheering and waving flags in their fists.

The live stream videos transmitted had in many times faded at irregular intervals.

An error message read by an AI visual perception of the camera lenses, as the media drones attempts to mount beyond limit to the sky, and zoom-in the entire location.

It was a measure of an attempts made to capture the entire landmark.

But the system read, "Out of range," the failure to mark areas that were highly prone to crisis in all the zones was futile as the area was not monitored.

The spiraling beautiful architectural designs of Nizzra city towers had the most spectacular views at the moment of broadcast.

There rooftops pointed out as though they were meant to touch the clouds.

Cameras had exposed their flat prominent roof angles— like wings to the blue sky, and at all side of the buildings, that the cameras had captured: scene by scene; the buildings seemed to be slanting one side.

They were mad rushing sounds of many clattering footsteps– heard sweeping across the upper floors.

The eaves like awnings over many upstairs and the adjacent buildings were also not left out.

The people were moving obnoxiously everywhere now.

Boisterous as they tried to get a clear glimpse at the top view of the standard solid concrete projected balconies that they could find.

All the minor balconies where barricaded by transparent shields, made of clearly tempered glasses.

Those who were curious enough on the balconies could catch an excited views of current activities taking effect along the I-Square perimeter walls.

The onlookers shouting inside the high rising floors and chambers in excitement, now stood tensed looking out at the top of all the balconies.

All the outlets leading through many doors of the offices were flung opened on the inside to the outside walls while facing the balconies.

At the second tower, people were anxious and pierced down at the other section of a persistent crowd flooding the legislative blocks– that were overlooking the Independent Square.

Every single being inside the cluster of buildings— were searching crannies and spaces just to lay a single eye on what was happening around the towers.

The government law enforcement agencies had already mounted a defensive line of action.

Their assault vehicles, tanks, armoured cars and armed men were overwhelmed by this continuous thronging flow of mass movements, as they behold the outcome— of yet another round of a protracted protest— about to burst into a war.

But the crowd did not fear the tragedy.

A fraction of the outline of the compressed crowds were composed of an adept patriotic men, women and teenagers of all ages marching back and forth.

They'd moved sometimes in trepidations towards the end of the towers and converged at the I–Square, and then repeated the marching orders allover again.

The crowds all appeared like a legion of an armyworms while standing at the top of the clusters of the high-rising towers.

Many were seen in a different cluster, marching round in tranquillity, and waving their protesting placards and banners in a peaceful demonstrations at the back of the I-Square.

But the people seemed to had fully been controlled, under the influence of one single voice of command, because the crowd had maintained a gradual uniform pace.

The people, been sensitive as they moved on, closer to the I-Square and at the front of the legislative block— had became well composed and well articulated as they sang, and chanted popular slogans.

A great number of multitudes carried placards, as well as many stretched arms holding nothing.

A slew of people behind the crowds, carried paired up of front and back banners that spelled boldly in red and black printed graphics that a lot of people had caught glimpses and read.

"Don't toy with our unity and our identities: Lopadans.

"We're all equal and need to be heard!"

"We declare War Against you and any Corrupt State officials who steal what rightly belongs to the public."

"We are a blessed people, blessed in abundance by nature: we know it!"

"Stop wasting what we're not paying you; our resources are bleeding to death."

"Our mumu don do us, and we'll keep fighting for the course of the state."

"Fix our hospitals and schools to a world class standards."

"We forbid you and your children traveling abroad for education or medical tourism if you've failed to address our dilapidated infrastructures that you all enjoy while your stay in abroad."

"Stop leveraging in our ethnic diversity to pull strength wherewithal for your selfish gain."

"If you can, use your children and loved ones as your thugs to rig the state's electoral processes."

"Fresh Air, Fresh Dawn has come. We'll not stop until you've done the needful."

"Honour our heroes and heroines who are underfed in the jungles... please!"

"Implement Policies of Equal Rights and Justice." etc, etc.

In the wake of all this, as the excited crowds continue to flood-in peacefully with chanting slogans.

A thin voice in an act of composing a song, came piercing the air through a sonic megaphone; and then receded where another had taken with a better melodious baritone voice.

It impacted the crowd positively as they'd all wished.

"Who—no no en own, go spoil lam ooo!"

"Who—no no en own, go spoil lam ooo!"

"Who—no no en own, go spoil lam ooo!"

The crowd answered with pidgin language and immediately the popular Kalian adage at the top of their voices followed.

"They think say we forget?" The voice echoed.

"A single tree can never make a forest!" Then the crowd cheered singing in unison.

"The saddest thing is that they think we've forgotten about these sad events. Who—no no, Lopadans!" Continued the man, behind the megaphone. The crowd continued to sing.

Who—no no, the Lopadans! Wisha not peace.

Who—no no, the Lopadans! Wisha not peace.

Who—no no, the Lopadans! Wisha not peace.

The crowd had all converted the musing words into a chanting melodious song.

Part of the song heard at some level of background, pierced the ears the most.

Then the crowds far behind sang comprehensively dirge, as the words now reached slower to their ears meaningfully.

More so, as the sound of the bands reached to a crescendo, voices were heard behind— resonating one voice after another as they sang and cheered repeatedly.

"Ohh weh, wooo!"

"Ohh weh, wooo!"

"Ohh weh, wooo!"

"The City of Nizzra!... Have arrived finally to it's destination," said A.A, as she beamed curiously on the television and pique up the kids singing beheld the unusual teaming groups.

"Hmm!... That's the weight of social revolution! I presume they're all aware that the government will never protect their interest?" Asked Akalia.

"I feel they're all doing what's long been expected of an individual, irrespective of the circumstances beyond everyone.

But thanks be to God! As anticipated; it indeed came to pass.

We'd long hoped for a revolt, but we'd seated too comfortable far too long waiting!" Replied Michael.

Both of them were standing in this Akalia's remote apartment.

"That's what you get when you push the people to the wall.

They'll bounce back at you unexpectedly, and of course they know the consequences of their actions." Said Akalia, with muse.

Michael continued and laughed mockingly as he glanced over the smooth face of the plasma screen with broad open mouth.

This wasn't the only abode of Akalia, only few people knew of this one. It was safe, located at the unspecified area of the west zone— somewhere, maybe the outskirts— further down the metropolis was her old house.

But she no longer stays there for too long, except on special occasions or when she was having a meeting.

She'll normally go there and spend some few days and then comes back to the new apartment.

The video clip of that particular channel they were watching, was shown in an inset perspective, in conjunction with an ongoing live commentaries that'd featured some host prominent media icons of the channel— analysing the outcome effects of the protest.

Michael turned towards Akalia Ambikasaleh and blinked like a wayward son.

Michael reminds her of her late niece that would say things escalated and then apologize later.

"Akalia Ambikasaleh," Michael whispered her names softly in full and then paused.

He stared at Akalia for a moment into her face as though he wanted to test her.

He whispered her name for the second time in excitement but Akalia looked away.

He then made further attempts to move closer to her face as Akalia refused to respond.

Akalia didn't sensed immediately the youthful exorbitant attitudes of Michael's failure to address her formally though.

At least not that big display of a sort of classless portrayal of her name can be announced so cheap in the open.

She would take it as public ridicule and a bit offensive dirt to her image, and at the end, it could strain her relationship with Michael seriously.

If Akalia had sensed it, she would've frawn at it immediately.

But maybe today Akalia was skilful in handling things— presumably she had chosen to let it sly for the day.

However she'd play dumb on Michael's first display of arrogance and stupidity.

Poor mannerism from a boy who she felt she deserved to be addressed by him as one who really deserves honour and worthy of praise.

But even out of an euphoria, Michael had never done such a foolish thing like this before, she might have taken that into consideration too.

It would be a very big shame on his part. To call Akalia by her first name was like a taboo even if by mistake. He knew the traditions of his people quite well.

If he'd critically analyzed his thoughts— very well, and knew the implications of stating an elder by her first or full names, he would had hesitated even with an apology.

Except the young man had been drunken with wine lately. Or maybe it'd been the early morning wine he'd tasted at home.

Akalia counted it as a slip of tongue and a mistake, she thought. Although will be strange if anyone heard of the mistake anywhere.

Not even did Michael reckoned to abbreviate her initials as A.A.

However he was lucky, Akalia never gave a second thought on that line of trivial phrase misguidedly spoken by her acolyte.

"You know what, Michael.

You remind me of your friend, my niece.

You might have learned from each others: things that young people do and apologize later in life."

"Hmm, i will forever miss her absence." Said Michael, spontaneously.

Though Michael, to say, was unthoughtful not to had perceive the arrogance in his own words will be unwise thing to do.

To think of what he'd just said or what he had not, did not resonate. He changed the subject and moved on quickly to another discussion without really realizing his mistake.

Michael eventually framed another line of thought gesticulating. Infact, everything was happening too fast.

The impact of the crowd viewed on the television was all that mattered at this moment of protest.

"The Lopadans have managed to subvert the systems. Mam! We will gain popularity on this one.

This is the best moment to lift up our banners against them and act swiftly.

Let's show them who we are! We could disgrace and wipe them all out of the system, trust me! Don't you think so?"

A.A was stoned dorsal to one funny position. A certain posture of thought that describes a well learned colleague of her type.

She had learned these things since in her lessons of becoming a public figure that you must tolerate people. It's one of her cardinal opinion never to be ignored.

"As you've said, some moments ago. That in a short while, it will all fizzle out, right? Do you think so?

Mam, say something!" Michael was polite and rhetorical. But A.A did not utter a single word at the moment.

"The Lopadans, I presume— have no clue, whatsoever to grasp what the CRPs had concocted for them.

Or should we still fold our arms in silence and watch the drama unfolds? Or should we take the war to them instead? Or do you have any particular preferences you would desire for your enemies worlds to crumble under your feet swiftly?"

"You are just a child. Hmm!" A.A sighed, despising Michael.

The sighing was with an emotional pain crossing her entire facial expressions.

At once, she'd raised her hand for a beckon pointing, as though indicating something to Michael to observe. Her voice was still, as cool as the air in the room.

"Stop bragging! Do you think we're ready for that, son? At such a critical time when nobility is fast deteriorating... Trust me, there's no reason for that, not now! Naturally, you don't enter hastily into the ring of a sort of powerful figures in any society, and expect not to fight as a man, except you want to be shamed.

If the devil have sown these seeds of discord; just put your mind to believing, they'll not be the one to win this war! Relax! Patience! Patience is what we need like a dog expecting a big-fat bone."

"The re-inauguration is set to kick off soon with an open arms of embrace— before December to welcome everyone.

Do you still think we have a chance to defeat them. That is, if I am made the aspiring candidate?" Michael asked, though still in doubts of them winning the election.

A.A was solemn, and had appeared in her best comportment as though she'd anticipated for this perticular question, for a long— long time.

But just before she could reply, she'd quickly switched her feet to a sliding position apart, an astride posture that fits to her natural physique and profile without bulging.

But after a little while, she said breaking forth her sentences into many parts that Michael could grasp her intuitions.

"Calm down!" A.A shouted.

"Dalu... Hmmm! You know as some of my people at the other provinces will say. It means thank you."

"But let me ask you some basic facts about this system before you think that you can beat the Lopadans."

"Okay," answered Michael.

"Do you think power rotation among the elites is different from autocracy?"

"Not at all, mam. It's a scheme of the elites" Said Michael.

"Good answer! But do you think we have no capable hands to lead the affairs of Chakia state— successfully even as young as you are?

"No!" Answered Michael. "We have all what it takes."

"But have you reflected on the basis why the Lopadans have held onto power; and rotates it among the elites for such a long time, huh!? It is because it's a legal proximity to a dictatorship, you get me?"

Akalia hissed and grimaced. She tossed the paper in her right hand, into the waste bin. Her nostrils widening out.

Face turning into a scrunched nose, as her hand stretched farther to the table almost intuitively, and wiped off clean with her two middle fingers— the smeared powdered milk to the floor.

"Son, there's need for you to re-align with our vision. Have you not perceive for a long time the dominations of the Lopadans in our society?"

"Hmm!" Sighed Michael.

"Do you know the reason why these people have refused to retire for active roles? And even at their old age, they still want to dictate to us? Or at least, why they've refused to listen to the outcry and complains of the masses? The people wallowing in abject poverty? Or do you think they are not aware of our sufferings? Or they're not listening to what is happening on the social media?

They know it, but it will be insane to go this direction with them? Greed is what brings some people to trenches. Again, it is because they have a goal to achieve. A conspiracy I think we should first unraveled, rather than plunging into the source with disabled information."

Michael didn't interrupt her, of cause he had no right as an acolyte to do that.

"How about the delegates who cropped up leaders themselves. Of what function and contribution do they put in to check the abnormalities? Would you blame them or would you simply close your eyes and just choose the path of forgiveness?

Or do you think we're all scared to act if given the opportunity... is that how you think?"

Akalia was critical, she reitrated boldly by citing instances of the above subjects. She was fondling with her fingers when she smiled to the walls, as if she knew too much theories about the government conspiracies.

"Okay! Now answer me...young lad! Do you have clues for any of these questions I've thrown at you?" Michael took a moment to galvanize his faculties, and then said— extracting his hands from his pockets.

"I guess this trends boiled down ultimately to the fact that; there must be an oversight plan overseeing structures of bureaucracy.

But I think the details are only revealed in the secret Book of the Lopadans!"

There followed a deafening silence as A.A looked at him strangely. In her mind, Michaels' response had dwindled.

Michael knew that his answer lacked precision and confidence. And it came with tremors of monotone...though he was still expecting a definite answer to come from A.A. But her voice had stretched so thin as though she was only whispering now. Her voice was below the volume of the television sound.

She continued with multiple sighs of disappointment. Her voice overlapping with the sound of the television— before the volume would declined.

Akalia was somehow defiant on Michael's case. He continued to munch crumbs of bread in her mouth that showed a sort of displeasure over Michael's clueless ideas and poor thinking ability over the issues bordering the present state of Chakia.

She'd felt discouraged at that moment of conversation— as though Michael somewhat lacked the full capacity to grasp the current idiosyncrasies of the state.

"You see, that's my problem with younger folks of this generation, the lack of discretion! At least, you should have sort of tried to show prudence in your response to my question.

If possible, pause properly and understand it first.

But i tell you truly, except you ask questions. Son! Like I've said, the secret will reveal itself for the truth, but certainly not now."

A.A spoke randomly, but the reassured truth stood out copiously. And she was positive of her words.