- This topic is empty.
- Posts
When the Guns Went Silent
Chapter One – The Red Soil of Home
The sun rose slow and golden over the grass-thatched huts, touching the red earth until it glowed. Smoke curled lazily from cooking fires, carrying the smell of millet porridge and roasted groundnuts. Roosters crowed, goats bleated, and the village awoke to another ordinary day.
Jacob Akello stood at the edge of the stream with his eldest son, Akena. The boy’s toes gripped the damp mud as he leaned forward, fishing spear trembling in his hand. Jacob placed a steady palm on his son’s shoulder.
“Patience, my boy,” he murmured, eyes on the rippling water. “The river always rewards the one who waits.”
Akena held his breath, watching for movement. For a heartbeat the world was silent but for the humming of insects. Then—a silver flash beneath the water. He lunged, thrusting the spear downward. A splash followed, water droplets flying. He lifted the spear, a small tilapia writhing at its tip.
His father’s laughter rang out, rich and proud. “Eh, you are learning fast. Soon you will feed the whole family.”
Back at the homestead, Sarah crouched on a low stool, her nimble fingers weaving neat braids into Nyara’s hair. The little girl winced as her mother tugged, but Sarah only chuckled.
“Beauty must feel pain, my daughter. Even queens sit still for their braids.”
Nyara rolled her eyes but sat obediently, twisting blades of dry grass in her lap. Nearby, little Timo chased a stubborn goat, his thin legs kicking up red dust. The goat darted left, then right, bleating with annoyance as the boy squealed with laughter.
Sarah paused to watch him, her lips curving into a tired but gentle smile. In moments like these, when the world felt no bigger than their hut, their field, and the stream, she could almost believe nothing outside would ever touch them.
By midday, the family gathered under the shade of the mango tree. Akena cleaned his fish with a sharp knife, while Nyara hummed softly, practicing a school song. Jacob rested with Timo sprawled across his lap, the boy’s head heavy against his chest.
It was an ordinary day in an ordinary village. And yet, in Sarah’s heart, there was a quiet prayer—a mother’s fragile wish that life might always remain this simple, this safe.When the Guns Went Silent
Chapter Two – The Night of Fire
The village slept beneath a quiet moon. Crickets sang from the tall grass, and the wind whispered through the mango trees. In the Akello hut, Sarah lay with Timo curled against her side, his small chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm. Jacob’s snore came soft from the mat nearby. For a moment, the night was tender and still.
Then—
A crack. A sound like thunder, but closer, sharper. Gunfire.
Sarah’s eyes flew open. Another shot echoed, followed by screams tearing through the night. Dogs barked, goats bleated in panic. The stillness of the village shattered.
Jacob was already on his feet, his face set in fear. “Sarah! Wake the children!”
The door burst open before she could move. Shadows flooded in—men with rifles, their eyes red from firelight, their voices harsh and commanding. One kicked the cooking pot, spilling yesterday’s millet across the floor.
“Out! Out, all of you!” a rebel barked, his gun raised.
Sarah clutched Timo, pressing his face to her chest. Akena and Nyara, still half-asleep, stumbled toward the door. Jacob moved to shield them, but the butt of a gun slammed into his side, sending him crashing to the floor.
“Jacob!” Sarah cried, reaching for him.
A shot rang out. The smell of gunpowder filled the hut. Jacob’s body went still.
Sarah’s scream was swallowed by the chaos outside. Flames already licked the thatched roofs of nearby huts. Villagers ran in every direction, some cut down before they could escape. Children wailed, elders pleaded, rebels shouted orders like demons in the smoke.
Two rough hands seized Akena. Another yanked Nyara by her thin arm. The children cried out, their voices piercing, desperate.
“Amma! Amma!” Nyara screamed as she was dragged into the night.
Sarah lunged forward, but a soldier shoved her back with the muzzle of his rifle. She clung tighter to Timo, who sobbed against her shoulder.
“Run!” a neighbor shouted before being silenced by a gunshot.
Sarah stumbled into the darkness, clutching her youngest. Behind her, the village burned. She dared one last glance—Akena and Nyara swallowed into the line of captives, their small figures fading in the firelight.
Smoke filled her lungs. Ash stung her eyes. Her world—her home, her husband, her children—was ripped apart in a single night.
And as she fled into the tall grass, barefoot and breathless, Sarah knew only one truth: she must survive. For Timo. For the others. She must survive.(Awaiting moderation)
