Encouragement

Be not the tail
but the head of the lion
No matter the case
give your heart and you shall succeed

Learn from your losses
Remember the wins
Keep your head high
But use the pain
to keep you going

Remember this Friends
Push yourself
An you shall truly succeed.

By: Arnold Sanginga

Year 8 Prefect

    The hall was filled with 850 children all uncomfortably slouched on aged rusty chairs filled with foam covered with dusted, deep-maroon leather. The blaring whispers reverberated off the walls of the drowsy hall, as friends revisited the same topics.

    I myself was entranced in this boredom, as the faint voice of the headmaster tried to penetrate our attention, like a fox tries to lure its escaped prey back. However through through his endless trial and fail, as well as calling for silence, no one paid attention to him.

    It didn't last though; the ignorance faded like the mist does when the sun finally rises, after he mentioned one word. Those that were slouched were now straight-backed that you could use them as an ironing board. The noise perished within a second, you could hear the plop of a water droplet hitting the floor.

    Fear crept I and made heart beat like war drums, flooding my ears until it became unbearable. My neighbour said some silent prayer to ease off the mounting anticipation, while I hoped the name that would be called would be mine. The second ticked away and the silence tormented me.

   I think I blacked out completely, for when my name was said, I sat up with a big fat smile and time stood still, shock making me rigid to the spot. As it wore off, I got up slowly trying to act placid and laid back, but inside I felt ecstatic with joy.

   The dull hall bloomed up and the blood red walls became a shiny scarlet. Applauses rained down on me following my every footstep as I rapidly walked up onto the wooden dust-brown stage.

A line of students shaking the headmasters hand blocked the view of the one thing I wanted most. Finally it was me; I hurriedly shook the headmasters hand and grabbed the thin cobra like object that gave you extra-power, but a vicious stranglehold on your neck and even deadlier when you went down the wrong path. That extra-power is what I needed. What I wanted. It made me one of the chosen special ones.

    The smooth, soft, silk made my hand ring with excitement of putting it on. I just restrained myself from shouting off the top of my lungs to show my rejoice of finally getting the one special thing that everyone else wanted to be a part of, the crimson red tie that highly respected prefects wore.

My Name

“Tchishi, Tchishi.” A faint whisper in all the destructive gunshots flying around within the tree-sized grassland I was sheltering in. I took the chance to turn around and scan the area behind me only to find Daniel Juniore lying flat on the ground whilst tightly clutching his abdomen. I dived to his side, his eyes flickering with pain as a heavy, opaque and cold pool engulfed his body. I ripped his shirt trying to the centre and press on it. His body was filled with thick drying blood encompassing a hole and a scarlet, fleshy, white bone protruding to gasp for air.

     It came up my throat and blurted out my mouth forming a sick yellow liquid with chunks of my recent scrap food, the sight of it after so long made my blood freeze.

     The belt buckle clicked open, the zip unleashed the mindless, evil snake into my mother not once but several times and several different ones. My father and I knelt helplessly with guns placed at the back of our heads forcing us to watch as my dear mother's bank of tears dried out as they flowed like the Congo river. It grew within me a rage so blind I wondered if it was truly me as I stood and run towards my mother. They were fast, very fast murderers with their guns like the one that had just struck me like lightning. “Your turn since your so energetic,” one of them sneered lifting me by the sleeve of my shirt. With knives, guns and eyes watching me, I was dictated to take off my shorts and look into the lifeless eyes of my mother as I raped then drowned her.

     “I'm sorry mum,” I kept whispering throughout but it was not over yet, they placed the bloody metal into my hands and my fathers temple in front of it. We shared tears silently as my hand trembled on the trigger, he silently uttered, “Remember Jesus and he will give you peace. Now pull the trigger before it's you they kill.” I closed my eyes as the gun let out a single echoing bullet and when I opened my eyes I saw my fathers limp body thud on the ground. My eyes stung but my stomach was worse as it churned and let out everything in it but tears were not allowed to be shed.

    Today I did as Daniels eyes closed for eternity, my only source of humanity had finally escaped the camps even though it wasn't the way he planned.

   “Rest in peace Daniel.” I left his body to its fate, with no other way to bury him in a war zone. My name is Tchishibanji Amani but I have no peace because there is no peace.

Holding onto Love

Word can not describe it

Its that one thing,

that carefully knocks you out cold,

steals your soul of all sadness.

It skips, sings and sighs

and I dance to its melody.

It softens your temper,

to a fluffy light pink.

It blinds you with clarity

make you reveal,

your emotions, your inner-self,

your nudity.

But when you reach so high

It leaves you to the great fall

not by choice, but by faith

not with a smile, but with tears.

That's is when the torment begins

at first its undesirable,

but as you go along

you yearn for it.

So it can return

and defeat the pain,

the heavy tears

and the dark hole

brewing.

Love, a double edged sword

when with it,

it's a weapon and a shield

when without it,

it's a blunt knife puncturing the heart.

But I hold onto it,

whilst bleeding with a smile.

Never letting go. I hold on.

Not onto love. But onto you.

By: Arnold Sanginga

Emotional Outcry

People smile when they're happy

Cry when they're sad

Frown when they're angry

and scream when in pain

Some are warm hearted

the others cold as stone

but from birth,

everyone holds the same reaction

So at what point did it change

The rules of it derange,

until people are thought to be totally insane

Is it the pain we go through

The between two

or the hate inside you

I don't know what's true

It broke the laws of physics

Defied all the critics,

burnt down the great cities

and brought hopeless hope.

It is a disorder, some say.

An evolution, others display.

To me.

It is an outcry of bottled,

unforgotten and untold stories.

My dear friend what is it to you?

By: Arnold Sanginga

A Brother's Love

You were warned

But you were bored

Life was fun, epic

You were living high

But through, all that booze

The ladies that took off your shoes

The fun on those fast cruise,

You couldn't shake the pain loose

The only one that you trusted

Old age and death invaded

Abandonment you felt

Sorrows you thought

Your hatred grew

Dramatic A- star

The tears in your eyes

Sadly give you away

I love you to my death

A role model, an idol

I celebrate your success

And cry with your pain

I address this to you

With all my love

With all my pain,

But with hope for change

My dear brother.

By: Arnold Sanginga