VIII: The Devil s Playground

Transcription

1 VIII: The Devil s Playground Baba: Man s heart is black and cruel, Father Emem once told Chidu and I, Without God, man is like an untamed beast, violent without reason and filled with hate. Nowhere had I seen this truth more clearly than my time with the Somali Resistance Fighters and our leader, Zuberi. Torture, rape, murder, torment, he was the master of it all. The man talked of freedom in one tongue, but reveled in tyranny in another. His lust for blood was beyond comprehension, even to the point of having his brothers and sons kill each other for sport. Yet, the scary thing is that when I plunged that blade into Chidubem that fateful night, something within me cried out for more. So, I kept thrusting the machete into his stomach, gaining more pleasure from it with each blow. When I came to my senses, I realized what I had done and felt my soul ache within me. At first, I blamed the drug they coated our blades with. As I tossed and turned over it, the clearer everything became. The drug merely awakened what was already there. That guilt weighed heavily on me in the months following, always there when I looked at my reflection in the water. I could feel the darkness gnawing at me, and it made me sick. During that time, Zuberi and his minions put us through rigorous training, molding us into the perfect warriors for their bloody crusade. Those who were too weak were executed, their bodies torn apart and thrown to the dogs as a subtle reminder to the rest of us that weakness was an abomination. We were taught hand-to-hand combat, how to use a gun, and guerilla tactics, all skills we would use to decimate our Ethiopian adversaries. They expected to fight an army of

2 men, but would instead face an onslaught of enslaved children. To this day, the thought of children fighting one depraved man s war disgusts me. On the second day of the fourth month of my time there, we were all brought before Zuberi at the shooting range just outside the camp. He claimed that we were one step closer to becoming true Somali men. Today, he said in his boisterous voice, you must prove that you have what it takes to destroy our enemy. You must show no mercy, no restraint. As he spoke, his thugs marched several Ethiopian soldiers, bound and gagged, in front of us, like animals to the slaughter. They tied them to wooden stakes and left them to stare at us, eyes wide with fear and horror. These men, these cowards. They are part of the plague that has taken our land from us. And for this, they must be punished. With a wave of his hand, his goons began distributing guns to each of us, most of them left over from the World Wars, along with one rifle round each. One mad man s legacy passed down to another. As I held the rifle in my hands, I could feel the darkness surge within me. Sweat began to stream down my face as I looked up at the bound soldier before me. His eyes met mine, and, in that moment, his fear became my own. I had seen these eyes before, when I butchered my own flesh and blood. Ready your weapons! Zuberi commanded. The other boys began loading their rifles. As I followed suit, I could feel the conflict within me rising to a crescendo. Aim!

3 I raised my weapon, firmly pressing the stock into my shoulder. I stared down the barrel of my rifle, setting its sights right between the soldier s eyes. The whimpering of the soldiers echoed in the back of my mind. I shook my head, trying to force it out. For a moment, I felt as though there was a pause in time. My breathing slowed as I glanced at my fellow brothers in arms. I could see the hate in their eyes, a few shedding a tear for what they were about to do. I returned my gaze to the soldier before me. I still felt his fear. Why? Why could I feel his fear? My finger rested on the trigger. I wrestled within myself, trying to fight for control of my own soul. My hands gripped the rifle tighter, shaking uncontrollably. Fire! Gunshots rang out, causing an intense ringing in my ears. Blood splattered across the dirt. The smell of gun powder filled my airways. Sweat dripped from my hands, loosening my grip on the gun. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zuberi strolling down the line of boys. He stopped next to me and glared at me, furious. He then turned to the bloodbath. Out of all the limp bodies, the soldier before me remained, hyperventilating as his eyes darted back and forth, horrified by the sight of his fallen brothers. Zuberi then turned his attention back to me and sneered. What is this? he inquired. I kept my eyes on the soldier, my hands shuddering with fear. Answer me! I hesitated.

4 I I don t-. Before I could finish, he pulled out his pistol and shot the soldier, spattering his brains across the ground. The sudden outburst jolted me. You dare to disobey a command!? Zuberi exclaimed. He ripped the rifle from my hands and plunged the stock into my gut, then my jaw. I crumbled to the ground, blood spewing from my mouth as I clutched my stomach. He tossed the gun to the ground and stood over me. Disobedience will not be tolerated! He then grabbed four of the boys and ordered them to beat me. When they hesitated, he shot one. The remaining three proceeded without reluctance, kicking me in the stomach and back. Harder! Zuberi ordered. The beating intensified. With every blow, I could feel the darkness within me grow stronger. After a few moments, Zuberi threw the boys to the side and stood over me. Through the blood and bruises, I slowly turned my eyes to meet his. He grinned. This is a mercy, boy, he stated, Our enemies will not be so graceful. He turned to the others. Tomorrow, your final trial will commence! At dawn, you will be going to war! Either you will come home a man, or die a child! He turned back to me. Do not hesitate! They will no! So why should we? They do not care that you are just children! They slaughter you just as easily as a herd of antelope! Do not give them that chance!

5 He raised his fist in the air. For our homeland! For Somalia! The other boys joined in the chorus. That night, as I tossed and turned on the floor of our makeshift barracks, my pain turned to rage as hatred burned within me. And it frightened me.