Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 7

Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2020
Save The Tanka People
Chinese International School, Keswick, Isla – 11
I sat on the ancient rocking chair, the waves beneath me swayed back and forth. I gazed at
the sunrise. The deep blue sky turned violet with streaks of orange and red. The bright sun lit
up the village as families came out from their floating homes, ready for the new day ahead.
“Ming!” Mum screeched. I laughed to myself, Mum sounds like a rooster in the morning.
“Ming!” she repeated, “It’s breakfast.” I walked into the kitchen and smelt sizzling sausages.
I licked my lips and sat down on a chair. Mum placed a plate in front of me and I quickly
devoured the whole lot.
As I was changing, I heard Dad shout, “Ming! It’s fishing day! Do you want to come?”
“Yes, please!” I said, jumping up and down with joy. I ran outside and leapt into our
fishing boat with Dad right behind me. We set off into the sparkling blue ocean.
I could see a school of rainbow fish darting and dodging coral. We stopped by a big rock
covered with beautiful red crabs snapping their claws. It was spectacular! Dad cast the net into
the water. It lay on the surface for a few seconds and slowly sank. A mass of jumping fish leapt
into the net. Dad quickly jerked the net and pulled it into the boat. “Wow” said, Dad, “That
was lucky, maybe I should take you fishing more often!”
“Sure!” I smiled.
Back at home, officers marched through our sea village. I froze. My heart thumped as I
watched Dad bravely step out of the crowd and shout “Who are you, and why are you here?”
A large stiff faced officer with hundreds of medals pinned to his uniform spoke, “We
are here from the Greater Bay Area government to confiscate your homes and evacuate the
village. Anyone who questions this or fights will be imprisoned.”
A young officer pushed me and some other villagers into a police car. The seats were
ripped and stained and there was a strong smell of smoke. I looked back realising that I was
not with Mum or Dad. Mum was curled up in a ball crying and Dad was being handcuffed.
They shoved him in a police car and drove in the opposite direction. My eyes swelled up with
tears. I had lost my home, I was not with my parents, I had lost everything.
When the car finally stopped, a sudden feeling of worry rained over me. Where were the
Tanka people going to live? Were we now homeless? As I opened the door, cars rushed past
me. People, looking at some type of metal bricks, walked around. Tall buildings stood over
us. “This is the city!” I said in amazement.
I sat on a small bench and closed my eyes. Once I opened them, Mum was walking
towards me! I smiled.
She burst into tears, “Dad’s in jail!”
“I know, We WILL get him out,” I said.
Mum took out some money from her pocket, “Before the police came I gathered all our
money. It should be enough to rent an apartment for a few months.”
“But how are we meant to get our homes back?” I asked. Suddenly, an idea flashed into
my head, We can start by making some posters! I had a plan!
A few days later, we found an apartment. It only had one room but it would do. It was
late when I lay on the small bed. Creek! The bed sank as I lay staring up at the ceiling
The next morning, as the light shone through the curtains, I groaned. I needed to make
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