It was around twelve in the night or should I say morning, when the sentry guards on night watch saw an impending light from afar. Its description by the guards made it look like a camping fire and thus the war was already at our door step. Around 6 a.m. that same morning, the liberation army mustered while waiting for Mr Smith to give them the final speech.

At long last, Mr Smith finally came and everyone went silent as he opened his mouth to deliver his powerful speech.

“My fellow liberators,” he began, “I greet you all. We all know what lies at our door step, sure enough, we all have to face them. The Americans, of which I am one, want to force you into slavery but here stands an American telling you to fight for your freedom. Slavery is not what one can claim possession with. Being a slave means you don’t have freedom, you can’t talk freely, move freely, associate freely and you are not given the respect you’re due. You are forced to work excessively and above all, you are not treated like humans.

“The Americans treat you like animals. They clothe you with rags, starve you or give you two miserable square meals a day, and yet still flog and treat you with brutality. When you tell them no, you can’t continue as slaves again, that you want to be free, that you want to go on your way, live by yourselves as a free nation, they say no, you must remain as their slaves. This forced you to rebel from under them and went on your way, to live a free life. Now they chase after you to bring you back as their slaves, will you let them take you back as their slaves!?”

“Nooooo!!!”

“Will you sit down and watch while they take your wives and children as slaves?”

“Neverrrr!!!”

“What will you do?”

“We shall fight the Americans!”

“All hail Mother Africa!” Mr Smith roared.

“Hail Mother Africa!” the troops roared back.

“Hail Mother Africa” rented the air as the troops started marching towards the battle field, to doom or to victory.

I just stood and watched as the troops marched out of the camp, first the Infantry followed by the Calvary and lastly the Artillery. Although the Artillery and the Calvary had the same warfare function, the difference was that the Artillery dealt in heavy military equipment while the Calvary dealt in lighter military equipment, and they also acted as back up to the Infantry.

I stood watching as Boris led them out, leading them to the battle field. I cried. Y

I was crying for the men who were about to die, or was it for my brother or my family? I really couldn’t tell which I was crying for. It was a touch behind me that brought me back from the ocean of thoughts. I swiftly turned round to see the person. I saw a young boy who I guessed must be between the age of 17 or 18, standing with sweat pouring down his face.

“Hi Morris, Mr Smith wants to see you, he is in his tent, it’s very urgent, says you should come right away.”

The lad concluded and ran away without waiting for my response.

I immediately made my way to Mr Smith’s tent. I saw him going through some map, without looking up, he asked me to have a seat.

“Morris my boy, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine sir,” I replied.

“Good to hear that, cause we gat lots of work to do,” Mr Smith announced.

***

Tell us: Do you think Boris will return?