Creeps at my doorstep! MAN kills man. Man dead and gone. Friends and colleagues gather by the dozen. One, two pick up a bucket. Three, four knock at my door! Lazy as always, I tread soft and slow to my door knob and pull it open. Kids, aged 18 -27, explain what brings them to my door. They say “we lost a pillar of strength, a man with a future. It’s now for us – the people in and around my city – to take care of the dead man’s family!” A receipt book and a bucket point at me. I am being offered the option of showering money into the bucket in return for a receipt. I ask: Why should I pay? Rival party hunting us down, they say. Our comrade has turned martyr. We have to take care of his family. I retort: Do it for God’s sake. But why should I part with my money? Political rivalry may have killed your friend. I don’t have a political connection. Why should I donate money for someone who died for the party those kids hold in high esteem and I do not? Years ago, a similar group had come
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Showing posts from July, 2008