It sucks to be powerless… and hurts exponentially too. My vision has already blurred but the pain washes through me in waves like the most indescribable torture and all i can think of is my baby. My sweet Baraka. She still calls out ,even now, to our family but no one comes. They are afraid.

I may be dying but i hear their approach,those bastards… murderers… and i slip into unconsciousness once more, helpless to comfort my child’s cries. Assure her that she will live on and i won’t.

❂

Baraka was born at sunrise to an explosive welcome reverberating around us. The females surrounding us sang and laughed, their trunks raised as they thanked God for this blessing. “She’s beautiful!” “..look at her flap those ears..” “Oh! Already trying to walk. Patience just like her mother’s” “Akila, you have done well, the heaven’s be praised”...and so on. I must be glowing, honestly, i must. It feels like the sun rose in my heart. With some effort i stand and curl my trunk around her side, helping her totter forward. She stumbles but keeps on, looking up at me for approval. Her first trumpet is feeble, sweet and small. It is hope for me...for my herd.

❂

“We are majestic beasts, Baraka. Powerful and beautiful, a pride to this land. Never forget that.” “More than the lions? Or the leopards? What about the giraffes? They’re taller than we are.” She looks sincerely baffled by my declaration. “More than all the creatures of the savannah. Trust your Mama.” With a nod she rushes off to play with the other calves in the waterhole and i smile.

❂

We crash through the trees, shouts ringing behind us. There’s the obvious adrenaline of a dangerous chase. I just can’t see us living without a watermelon or two from the local farms close by. And the maize, ready to yield. The juicy fruit,mmm...the urge to turn back and brave the furious villagers for some more is near overwhelming. Immediately i shake off the absurd idea and stamp on.

For a moment sadness engulfs me. This is what our lives have come to. Stealing. Destroying. Where the villages grow, my childhood home once spread in an expanse of wild savanna. No more. We battle with those little creatures for survival. It isn’t our fault neither is it theirs. Sort of.

Fear of what the future holds for us is hazy but we can see where we stand in this battle. Sometimes i don’t understand. Like when they killed Baraka’s father for no reason other than to take his tusks.

Humans.

❂

There are times, a good handful, when there is peace. When we know not fear and only joy and happiness prevail. Times i wish were more permanent so Baraka wouldn’t experience the harsh reality of our existence. Wishful thinking but i know one day, one day the sun will rise and stay.

❂

Why are they raising my trunk? What more could they possibly want from me? They are slicing into my trunk now. This is not pain. This is hell. This is fire and ice, torturous shards spearing through me. They laugh and congratulate each other, their guns, machetes, my darling tusks held high.

With my last haggard breath i beg Baraka to run. Run and hide. Run and live on. Run but never forget, we are majestic beasts, powerful...beautiful..proud.

❂

Mama is gone. Dead. I’m afraid. I want to wake up now and stare into the star filled expanse of the night sky. Listen to the soft grunts and calm breathing of my herd as they sleep. Look at Kiara, our matriarch and see myself. Snuggle close to my mama and be safe. Thank God that it was just a terrifying stupid nightmare...but the whistling wind and my solitary footfalls as i escape the horrid scene but not the memory...it’s real.

I hate them.

#prosechallenge #challenge #injustice

I’m walking home. There’s a storm around me. Raging, tumultuous and vengeful. The fear and excitement i feel is acute, if my thumping heart is any indication. I feel free. I feel brave. I feel confused. With that perfect mix, i look up and let the raindrops sting my eyes as i beg for death by the formidable bolt of Zeus. From Mount Olympus to my ticking heart, i do beg! Stop time!

The highway is a living breathing beast with a mind of it’s own. The vehicles, it’s lifeblood, the only sustenance it needs to roar and hiss. As i stand there, my dress fluttering to the wind being whipped up, i wonder if the beast will welcome me so that i can be one with it.

“I just want to fly…” “..but i will fall..” “..yet as i hurtle down down down…”

my grip on the railing tightens

“…i will call upon the mighty dragon in my heart to take flight and fly far far away into the galaxy, with my beaten broken soul in her grasp.”

Sometimes, when my mind is especially loud with the silence, i stare at the promise of peace in my hand. Flushing away broken promises is my new forte.

I remain a coward if only to live one more day. Tuck away another memory. For when I’m ready.

I'm positive the sound of me swallowing is audible.

Contrary to the excited beat of my heart, i offer a shaky smile. I'm nervous. The cool muzzle is pushed harder against my now sweaty forehead. The stifling silence brings everything into focus.

Like his trembling hold and the sheen of sweat on the grip. He keeps shuffling in place and i feel a rush of familiarity. My fingers can't stop tapping against my thigh. He focuses on that movement and frowns as if it offends him that both of us are on edge. First date jitters. I blush.

Our flighty stares slam into place and it happens. For the first time, we make eye contact and i seem to lose my ability to breathe. "Your eyes are unremarkable..,"i manage to strangle out.

"W-what?"

"Like mud."

"Bitch!" The gun stays in place.

"You didn't comb your hair today." I frown."You...you smell,too. Is that whiskey?!" My eyes narrow as they focus on his clothes. "You've worn this twi-""Shut up!"

We both look at the ground. I kick at a candy wrapper. He brings the gun down to my chest and presses it firmly there, then proceeds to mumble something inaudible.

"Beg pardon?" "My wife left me." I know. He must know I know by now.

"Ungrateful bitch."

It's the first smile he's had today and warmth courses through my veins. Mine.

"Why are you following me?"

I take my time. He needs to understand properly or else I'll end up with a bullet where it matters most.

"I...I'm not your wife."

His posture stiffens and his gaze becomes electric. I hold back a shudder and close my eyes. I don't need to see his expression as he decides I'm not perfect for him.

125 seconds. 

I open my eyes. He's gone.

I sit and wait. We'll be just fine.