I had recovered from the somewhat excruciating pain that I felt in my left eye which was an effect from the collision of the bullet and the wall. I escaped blindness.
In confusion, many thoughts had run through my head. What if my house was blown up in flames? What would I need for my job interview next week? Will my pot of freshly prepared bean porridge just get wasted? It is obvious I wasn’t thinking straight. I quickly grabbed my single strap bag and my new pair of shoes as those were the only things my brain could remember. Please tell me, what did I need a pair of shoes for at that moment of my life?
Fully awake now, I ran with full speed towards the door while processing in my head the safest temporary abode to shelter. Without caution, I had knocked down the bucket of water I fetched the previous night for the morning’s bath. As if I had angered the Water Spirit, the stream of water that had collected about four inches from the door sent me off my feet.
In the twinkle of an eye, I was thrust forward and my body weight, in connivance with the force of gravity, sent me through the air in downward propulsion aiming for the hard ground. No, I didn’t get to the ground without a stopover. In the middle of my fall, I hit my forehead very hard against the rusted, metal door handle. As expected, the skin and muscles on the affected area had given way to fresh, deep red coloured sizzling blood forcing it’s way out with much pressure..
‘blob’, ‘splat’, ‘paar’, three drops of blood had touched the floor. I felt that cold shrill everyone feels at the first sight of blood but I was under enough pressure already that I simply wiped off the surface of the injury with the sleeve of my black galabbiyah I wore to bed the night before.
With my partially wet flowing dress, my black strap bag slung across my shoulder and my shiny black American Eagle shoes in hand, I set off racing to nowhere. Struggling with my vision as it was still about 6:57a.m. and the dust in air, I was already on the path leading to a nearby village.
I was still running with full speed, a major road in sight when all of a sudden, a black hilux van appeared out of nowhere amidst shouts of “Allah akbar!” and a few gun shots.
I halted, trying as hard as possible not to attract attention. I fell to my face facing the ground but I had already been sighted. “Boom” “boom” “kprrrraaaaar”, “kpa” “gboa!” Shots were fired in my direction from the rebels at the back of the moving van which was, luckily for me, still in motion. The bullets approached with maximum velocity, all penetrating the sand right before my face, again spluttering sand into my eyes. I was grateful for the temporary blindness rather than being killed like a chicken. I escaped death by the whiskers a second time, same day.
When the coast was clear, or rather when I thought so, I dragged myself up and staggered. At this point, I was still sweating profusely, completely drained of strength and dehydrated.
My galabbiya had brown patches of dust all over. “Boom!” From nowhere, I was shot and I fell to the ground again.
Episode 3, soon. Stay tuned.