Blessed

I pushed through the pain of the pebbles wedging themselves between my feet as I ran after the ball. Our playground was not as I had once remembered it to be. The same buildings that once shone brightly in the sunlight were now left as heaps of dirt and metal on the ground. The ones that still stood standing threatened to fall at any given second, the paint chipped everywhere. The only colour that was seen now was the blue of the sky and the green of the trees. Green. Our lives were constantly haunted by that one colour. Green.  A brick wall separated our side and the other. We were not allowed to ever cross our side of the wall and a guard stood there to ensure that this rule was always respected.

There standing by his usual patrol was the same man who had been there for the last three weeks. The same green uniform had been haunting us, restricting us from even having the freedom to breathe without fear. The same beady eyes, glaring at us from the distance, ensuring that we abide by all the restrictions forced upon us. His face did not seem to have the slightest amount of remorse for anyone. If he was forced to use his weapon to cause harm to an individual, be it a child, a woman, or a man, he would be willing to sacrifice anybody’s life in order to fulfil his duty of peacekeeping. That’s what they called it. Peacekeeping. When I asked what peacekeeping may my mother silenced me because I was too young to get involved with such matters the less I knew, the better. As I was looking, the man strode from his position, casually, carefully taking each step, his head held high and his gun positioned comfortably in his hands.

He made his way over to a man and started inquiring, nudging him with his gun. The man told him that he was getting food for his wife and his child. Not convinced, the officer accused him of stealing and dragged him away, begging and pleading. Just like that. He changed the life of three individuals without a second of hesitation. How can a man, who just destroyed the home of an innocent individual, be someone who is there to keep the peace?

I heard the piercing scream of a woman and her young child. The both begged and pleaded. Amongst the crying I heard something that came to me as a surprise. Laughter. From the other side I heard the laughter of children. The two sounds clashed between each other in my mind. While one individual took for granted the freedom offered to them, the other struggled and fought for their own. As I watched from a distance the soldier threw the man into the Jeep and drove away leaving just a broken family, shattered hoped and dreams, and a small cloud of dust. How can another man destroy someone’s family; how can someone commit such a crime and still be considered a human?

I felt the warm, salty tears dampen my face. Within my childhood I would have to experience such injustice taking place. These victims would experience such heinous acts on a daily basis, never to feel the air of freedom brushing against their cheeks, never to experience the light of a new day with the sun kissing their skins to thaw them from their frozen life. This was my normal.

While I laughed and smiled with my family, they were begging and pleading to be reunited with their own. I had the luxury to be able to go home everyday and be embraced within my mother’s arms, to be greeted with a warm smile from my father as he ruffled my hair. The materialistic things that I had wanted out of life did not seem to matter within this moment.

Experiencing such events had tainted my childhood and it would be a sight that I would never forget. The fact that many individuals were struggling to survive would always be something that would haunt me every night, every day, every moment that I lived a blessed life.