Tears of the night
This is the second part of the Short Story by MacKing T. Thompson titled “Tears of the Night” – a riveting tale of three (3) African migrants journeying to Europe illegally via the turbulent seas. You can read Part One (1) here
On the Journey
“We are heading towards the North Pole” said Nani the sailor before anyone could ask a question.
“What! A route from the Mediterranean to the Pole? Not even ending in the Prairies.” said Jojo while others begin to murmur among themselves!
“Quiet everyone,” said Nani ranting. “I know it is going to be tough, but we strongly hope to reach our destination. After all, why do you murmur at this hour of your quest?”
“Please,” a stranger replied, “I only planned for a day’s journey, thus my food could only take me that far.
“Hmm! You should know better man; We are not going to wait for any man’s lack. Shrivel behind or stay aback, because we are going with the living; strong men of strong belief but the weak would perish behind because we have not the story of the perished to tell but the survivors.” Nani fired back.
“I am terrified” reckoned Sam. “I guess he should be a little compassionate on us. O God, show us mercy!”
And before anyone could breathe the second, Nani retorted, “close your eyes as we pray before the vessel sails off.”
“Lead us safely in this our journey, we pray.”
Prayers were said, with a response of different tones. Some, amen. Others, whatever they chose to respond with.
“Wow, so this man believes in a god? Comfort my heart Dear Lord in this hour and for the journey. Kone, do you believe in a religion?” Asked Sam.
“No I don’t,” he replied,
“It’s because of the acts of many who claim to have that faith of a divine but their deeds go contrary to what their faith demand of, you know, I do not always doubt the doings of God, but sometimes the practices of his people.” Answered Kone.
“Tell me more,” Sam inquired.
Kone answered, “I hardly want to look back and remember anything it holds, because it troubles my spirit and leaves me in tears. Religion has robbed me of the privilege of family and the joy of belonging. When gun is serving instead of what is requiring for teachings and guidance, it is the people who hear the sound that suffers the most.
Why bring gun issues in the matter of religion? Sam wondered!
Yes, this weapon against humanity has left the lives of many nothing but in destitute, wondering around without any sense of love and peaceful existence. Oh! ‘Mother world, where art thou kindness, where art thou justice and love? Have thou thy children gone astray with the sufferings of injustice? Does nature help in devising evil towards humanity?
Awake you good inhabitant of the earth. Why have thou remained silent, thus injustice and war engulf thy people? Speak forth, for thy neighbour’s perish from the tent of the coward. Stand and scream aloud for the good of humanity.” Kone in a soft tone recited.
These are the sayings of the mothers of the land, when their children were taken away and men executed for a reason of religion.
“Oh! You want to make me cry,” said Sam.
“Yes, you can. If you share in my grief, you would also share my tears. Many don’t mind, my friend; I am living in a part of the world where he who holds a gun represents sovereignty to rule. You know, it’s hard to bear this act of disorder and inhumane deeds so I decided to leave for a better and orderly life elsewhere, and behold this is where am I, on the ocean, heading for a journey far away from home.”
Kone continued, “My heart faints each time I wake up because the writhe of life seeks to tear me apart, the debt of life holds me gruesomely and the voices in my head will not keep silent, because it has got one more to say, who would deliver me from this life of mine?
The arm of a good mother to warm me in times of cold and despair has been taken away by the hands of cruelty. The audible voice of a dad to speak for me when I could not and to render words of encouragement is no more, as the unlikely sound of the weapon against humanity has silenced him forever. How I wish there was a Divine, thus would I run with haste to meet Him, for I am left alone, a stranger in this world.
My only hope is the light of the day that I may see the eyes of those that live, yet I am alive to behold life. Yes, there is hope my friend, things will never be the same. I’ve also taken to thread this unknown path for the want of life.
My mother used to tell me, the highest debt ever hit man is lack, whether being moral deficient, happiness insufficient or want of personal success and wealth, it is such evil that when it get hold of you, in return, you seek and want everything that which is not even yours. This has come to prove critical in my life which has urged me to also pursue my want to satisfy the needs of life.”
There was some silence as the three friends reflected on their fate.
“Tell me Yaya, what makes you trust your mother so much?” Kone asked.
“Well, she’s been such an epitome of hope, one who believes in spite of everything, even when things are hard to come by. She’s truly been a mother and a friend. I am deeply sorry you lost your mother in such a manner, from the hands of the merciless.”
The trio shared their stories in the vessel as the night draw nigh. They then found some place to lay their heads and sleep, as many other travellers on board.
To be continued.
This story was sent in by Mac-King T. Thompson. He lives in Tema, Ghana.