Monday, March 22, 2010

For the love of God 3

WE got out of the car and as I took the keys from the ignition I got the strange notion that my hands were trembling, I couldn't help but wonder if it was the fear of what had happened or what I anticipated to happen next. Whatever it was I didn't like the feeling, not one bit. My aunt ran straight to the back of the homestead as I walked toward the front door albeit in an awkward manner since my father was standing in the doorway.

I went up the steps concocting a story. It all came to naught as I stood with him on level ground and panic once again took over. He was talking, no, he seemed to be yelling or something of the sort and I started hearing him ranting about taking the car without notice and so on. When he was done ranting I explained myself and the circumstances preceding the events that had transpired and watched his face change from anger to bewilderment to shock to concern and to confusion in a matter of minutes. He didn't seem to have a problem after my explanation. I saw my mother coming towards us from the inner house and we had to do the whole narration again and she seemed the least bit bothered and announced that a snack was ready.

It wasn't a pleasant evening as some homophobe villagers came to voice their discontentment in the manner of my interference in their 'cleansing' ritual and all that bullock. The next day things seemed to be getting out of hand as villagers began taking sides and the elders asked us to leave politely before emotions ran high resulting in oversensualisation of the matter, much to the chagrin of my parents who nonetheless left with us the next day. The long drive home was silent except for the occasional expression of displeasure at the manner in which we left.

All along though my thought seemed focused on the fate of the young man. When we arrived back home the first thing I did was to call the pastor who I had met to en quire as to the fate of Charles. I was impressed and relieved to hear that he had made it into Nairobi the same evening we had left him at the church and that he was being housed for the time being in a safe-house. The alternative outcome was too horrid to consider as I went to bed later that night. I felt better knowing that some people somewhere were making a contribution to the cause no matter how small, they were still contributing. To them, my hat goes off in their honor. You are the unsung heroes in this struggle.

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