BANZA June 2016 Issue | Seite 25

FEATURE STORY I don’t remember you joining the military force, or, have you?” Embarrassment skimmed through my mother’s face as she gazed squarely at my father who’s back was turned against her. Days gave birth to weeks, and my father grew resentful towards everyone. He’d get up and make for the market, only to return at sunset but on one, unforgettable day, my father left and never came back. On that day, something was particularly peculiar about his trip to the market. Unlike the other days, he persistently assured us of the good returns he’d reap from his investment and of how grateful we would be afterward. My mother begged him to stay home that day, saying that she had a bad feeling about his investment but as usual, he wouldn’t listen. That was the last time I saw my father alive. The men he had dealings with abducted and murdered him instantly so that they would have his money. Then, without shame, they came home and demanded that we leave in silence before they killed all of us and we hastily packed our belongings and headed out of the village. We moved to another village where my great grandparents lived and without further explanation, summoned to keep quiet about what had happened because my mother and great grandparents were terrified of what could happen if the matter was reported.