FOR HOW LONG (PART 3) . . .?

Her mum adjusted on her seat. ‘What do you think people will say or do after this?’ her mother asked.

Father sighed and folded his hands. ‘People will be angry and they will make their displeasure known, but they will forget about it later. But when they remember again,’ he nodded slowly. ‘Emotions won’t be there.’

‘This is a federal station, and the newscaster said video was sent directly to the federal government.’


His mother turned and faced him, her legs stretched forward. ‘That killing will not go unattended to.’

Father nodded slowly again and said nothing but went into the bedroom. Tango knew what this meant. If their discussion wasn’t a debate, and his mum words weren’t in line with what he expected, he will attend to different issues.

But his father was right. Little or nothing was done except some talking which stopped after a few months. Then the following year, it happened again and government did nothing. The trend continued for five years and he also read news of happenings like it in other countries. Gunmen even did some–machetes weren’t used in all countries he read about.

But what gripped him and his mother was that most of this act happened in countryside.

‘Let moved back to the city,’ mother would say. ‘More people lessen the target. I’m sure we will be safe.’ She will tug at his shirt then if he acted unmoved, she will rest on his back and smoother his chest. ‘Let us leave,’ she will say eventually.

For Tango, moving to the south will be what will make him happy, but he knew won’t happen. His dad has once said, you can’t compare accommodation and cost of living in the south with what we have here. I can’t leave my job.

But on Wednesday night–night before the day miscreants killed his parents, her mum had talked about leaving on weekend. He was happy that night because his father reluctantly agreed. ‘A flat is just vacated at the staff lounge; we can stay there pending the time the government solve this issue.’


Tango knew his father never trusted the government, he was only saying that because he never wants to live in the city.

Thursday evening changed his life. Watching his parents killed like the men on stony ground he watched on TV made him angry. He had opened the back door and entered the kitchen when cracked voices find way into his ears.

The following two tabs change content below.



Latest posts by Gabriel (see all)

Post a Comment