Emerson left Mike and entered the next hut. It was a men’s hut. He wanted to connect Mike’s intention and the desire of his people.
“Great Hemalite!” He hailed them. The men turned and looked at him. It has been long they heard such exhortation.
“Who will like to go back home, to our fatherland?”
Few smiled. Many frowned faces. Very few looked indifferent.
“Who?” There was still no answer.
“Are we coming back here again?” One of the men asked.
“No.” Replied Emerson and shook his head.
“What about the Cannabites? Have they gone?”
“No.”
“Why are we going?” Another person asked from behind.
“To claim our land. Our heritage, our place of birth.”
“What will happen to our lives, our children and wives? Are we safe?”
Emerson could not reply at first.
“It may depend. Hmm… On o
