LIFE AS IT IS: PEACE FICTION
PEACE (FICTION)
His hands were freezing.
The moment I took them in mine, I knew he wasn't alright. I didn't say anything. I just let the silence envelope us while I waited for him to talk. This didn't happen for up to an hour and within this moments, I was getting annoyed. I couldn't tell if it was at him for not speaking or me for not engaging but that moment, I just felt this hardness within me.
“He slapped me” he finally said. I waited for him to continue and he did. “The boy that works at the junction”. The anger in me was tenfold. I didn't know what to do. I didn't have the strength. If I had gone to the junction, I would have received mine too.
“I'm sorry” I said. I knew he understood what I meant. I have said it over a hundred times, almost every day.
I drew him closer to me and I wept in my heart.
......
Bello and I were two years apart. Him, the older. I was ten when his parents moved to my area and looking out through the window, I saw this boy drawing on the screen of his parent's car. It engaged me because I remembered doing the same back then. Mine on the house windows.
I didn't see him until a week after then, I was mostly at school; a fresher at a high school close to home. His parents had brought him to my school for registration and while I was walking down the hallway,I sighted him. He had recognized me too and after proper introductions, our friendship started to develop.
Bello was beautiful. His parents were from the north, Kanuri to be exact and he had the pointed nose down to the long neck and even with slim build. He was also very religious, having completed his Quran; he was proficient in Arabic. Number of times he had told me stories about the prophet and how much he would be happy to see me as a Muslim. Of course, I had laughed at this; telling him how the saviour had died for us. Most of the time, It had led to arguments and at the end ;laughter, each on his own but still buddies.
When I was twelve and him fourteen was the first time I've seen him look different from his usual self. I had gone on errands for my mother and on my way back, what I saw took me aback. It was my friend looking lost and pale, walking to the direction of the wind. I quickly rushed to him and I what I heard him say broke me.
“Why did God make me this way” he had whispered. I was confused at first until he started telling me how he met a group of guys and he was told he should kill himself for behaving like a girl. I was angered. I didn't know the right words to use. I only told him how God makes no mistakes in his creation.
That was the first of many assaults. He was different alright and I guess many people, no matter how much they like to pretend were not accepting of things that were different.
............
“It's going to be okay” I kept saying repeatedly. I didn't know who I was convincing. Myself or him, but I truly wanted everything to just go away and be okay.
At a point, he had said "I know" and that was one of the last word I heard him say...
“poison” his mother had said in tears the next day.
I guess when he mumbled those words "I know” he already had a solution. It was probably the end for him but not for many of us.
We stayed.
Facebook: Habdul Archer
Instagram: @archer015
Twitter: @015archer
His hands were freezing.
The moment I took them in mine, I knew he wasn't alright. I didn't say anything. I just let the silence envelope us while I waited for him to talk. This didn't happen for up to an hour and within this moments, I was getting annoyed. I couldn't tell if it was at him for not speaking or me for not engaging but that moment, I just felt this hardness within me.
“He slapped me” he finally said. I waited for him to continue and he did. “The boy that works at the junction”. The anger in me was tenfold. I didn't know what to do. I didn't have the strength. If I had gone to the junction, I would have received mine too.
“I'm sorry” I said. I knew he understood what I meant. I have said it over a hundred times, almost every day.
I drew him closer to me and I wept in my heart.
......
Bello and I were two years apart. Him, the older. I was ten when his parents moved to my area and looking out through the window, I saw this boy drawing on the screen of his parent's car. It engaged me because I remembered doing the same back then. Mine on the house windows.
I didn't see him until a week after then, I was mostly at school; a fresher at a high school close to home. His parents had brought him to my school for registration and while I was walking down the hallway,I sighted him. He had recognized me too and after proper introductions, our friendship started to develop.
Bello was beautiful. His parents were from the north, Kanuri to be exact and he had the pointed nose down to the long neck and even with slim build. He was also very religious, having completed his Quran; he was proficient in Arabic. Number of times he had told me stories about the prophet and how much he would be happy to see me as a Muslim. Of course, I had laughed at this; telling him how the saviour had died for us. Most of the time, It had led to arguments and at the end ;laughter, each on his own but still buddies.
When I was twelve and him fourteen was the first time I've seen him look different from his usual self. I had gone on errands for my mother and on my way back, what I saw took me aback. It was my friend looking lost and pale, walking to the direction of the wind. I quickly rushed to him and I what I heard him say broke me.
“Why did God make me this way” he had whispered. I was confused at first until he started telling me how he met a group of guys and he was told he should kill himself for behaving like a girl. I was angered. I didn't know the right words to use. I only told him how God makes no mistakes in his creation.
That was the first of many assaults. He was different alright and I guess many people, no matter how much they like to pretend were not accepting of things that were different.
............
“It's going to be okay” I kept saying repeatedly. I didn't know who I was convincing. Myself or him, but I truly wanted everything to just go away and be okay.
At a point, he had said "I know" and that was one of the last word I heard him say...
“poison” his mother had said in tears the next day.
I guess when he mumbled those words "I know” he already had a solution. It was probably the end for him but not for many of us.
We stayed.
Facebook: Habdul Archer
Instagram: @archer015
Twitter: @015archer
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