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By Jacqueline Beddoe Rosendo 2 BACHILLERATO A I.E. V. Caada Blanch, Londres Certamen literario 2010 2011 Categora C Accsit They have oil in the shop! exclaimed one of the neighbours who had a child the age of my little one in her arms. Most of the villagers who overheard her went running to the shop and I almost did too but I had to fix the roof before it was dark. A few days ago the bandits, as the government calls them, came to the village in search of food and oil but as we didnt have any they burned down the thatch roofs of our houses. They had taken away all our food and shelter. If my children did not starve to death they would freeze or catch a cold as they were left to the elements. I had gotten up just after the sun had risen; I had fed my youngest son and set off to scour the village in order to find some sort of material I could use to fix the roof. After a few hours I had found what I needed, pieces of tin which I could use to make a temporary cover. When I arrived home my three children were exactly where I had left them. My first born was standing in front with a piece of wood in his hand and my youngest was clinging to my daughter. They were terrified. Each time the attacks of the bandits where more frequent and they were scared for their lives especially today as the last attack was still recent in their minds. Each time we heard the screams of the villagers we had to run out side and hide in the bushes. Sometimes I had to nearly drag them there as they were frozen in place by fear. That is when I would worry most. What would my children do without me? If I died they still had my mama and papa to go to, but what if they didnt find out? Without me or my parents my children would be left alone. With the help of my first-born son I fixed the roof. If my husband hadnt gone to war he would have done this but now I was left to tend to the house alone not even knowing if I would ever see my husband again. We took a few hours to put up the roof so it was already dark when we finished. I wasnt sure if I should go to the shop to get oil because of the bandits but I had seen my children smile for the first time in a very long time at the prospect of having food cooked in oil so I decided to go either way. As I was about to leave I saw them take the position they had when I had left earlier that morning. My eldest son still held in his hand that splinter of wood from one of our burnt house-poles. It made me shiver to think that my son would use it to kill himself if the bandits got to him but after all it would be better if he were dead than in their hands. The bandits would kill you but first they would make you suffer, make you pray and hope for death before they delivered it. I looked back one more time and smiled at my loved one. Just as a tear threatened to run down my cheek, I turned and left for the shop.
I had just arrived at the shops when the screams started. My worst fears had come true, the bandits were here. I tried to run, I tried to hide, but with all the commotion it was of no use. I ended up being pushed to the ground by one of the many villagers trying to save their own lives. Suddenly, a man grabbed me by my hair and pulled me up. The bandits had found me. My lip was bleeding and I had scratches all over my legs but that was of no importance. I was praying that my children would be alright and that they would be cared for. It was a known fact that if you run into the bandits they will kill you so I was wondering what they were waiting for. The man who was still holding me by my hair had two other men with him but neither moved nor said anything. They only stared, with a cold look in their eyes as if I was just another object in their way. All of a sudden another man came towards us. He looked at me and then said If you want to use her take her but we must move on, there is nothing here. The men nodded to the other man I presume was their leader and then set off, taking me with them. They tied my hands together and then we spent the next few hours walking. I didnt mind the walking but the worry of not knowing what they were going to do to me was slowly killing me. I could not help but remember my children from time to time which made me break down and cry. One time I fell to the floor and started sobbing hoping that a shred of their humanity remained and that they would let me go but instead I received a slap that made my face swell. When we made camp for the night I realised what they wanted from me and one by one they took what they needed. For days they passed me from one to another. Then as they slowly got bored with my body, when I was already broken, they set me to other tasks. I had to cook for the bandits but as they did not trust me I always had to have the first spoonful, the only food they would allow me to have. I was starving to death. I had reached a point that I wished death would come to me. I missed my children and wanted to go back to them but I knew I would die before. Then I had lost all hope One night the bandits didnt tie my hands tight enough and, having lost so much weight, I easily managed to slip them off. For a moment I stood there free from the ropes that bound me unsure what to. I had so given up hope of ever escaping that I did not know what to do with my new found freedom. For a moment I even considered strangling the man who had grabbed me with the same rope they used to keep me their prisoner. I could probably kill him but not before the rest of the men woke up and this time they would kill me with out a doubt. I only had one option left. Run. I ran off as fast as I could in my current condition with legs that could barely support my weight and for the first time I let myself dream. I thought about my three children how I
could maybe reach the village and be with them again. I knew I would not be much use to them now, my breasts where dry and I was week but in time I could build up my strength and be the woman I once was, for them. So I kept on running, not knowing were I was heading just hoping to get back home. After a few hours I came across a large metal fence. I was at the border of Kruger Park. Some of our villagers worked there for the white men. I knew this land was filled with dangerous animals such as lions and elephants but I was safe for the time being as the beasts also sleep. Just as the first rays of sun appeared on the sky and I had lost all of my strength, I reached a vast plot of land where the grass was so high that I was completely covered. My movements were sluggish at this point. I was burnt out yet I kept on walking. Suddenly I tripped and crashed on to the ground. I turned to see what had caused me to trip and couldnt hold back the wail that escaped my lips Papa! Papa! I yelled at the top of my lungs but it was of no use. He was dead. On my knees, crying a river of tears, I died I hoped that my children would know that I tried to get back to them that I had not abandoned them. My final thoughts were a prayer, a wish that they would find happiness.