The Rain in April

Lips of death

Chapter 7

Eric walked into the chapel; he pulled off his cap and moved towards the last pew. Few soldiers were seated at different pews; he waited for the priest to pray for the last soldier on the queue before he stood up and walked towards him.

“Lieutenant,” The old priest dressed in black cassock called as Eric got closer to him.

“Father,” Eric bowed before taking the old man’s right hand.

“How is your family?” The priest, full of smiles, asked. He was light-skinned and had grey hair.

“They are fine,” Eric answered, not bothering to force a smile this time around.

“You look worried. Is everything alright?” The old man quickly said before Eric could say a word. Eric shook his head with indifference, hiding his deep worries under a smiling veneer. This was the reason why he had visited the chapel; he wanted to be assured he was doing the right thing.

“Do you think what we are doing is right? Driving out the Tutsis, women and children who we know can’t even hurt a fly.”

The priest looked at him for a moment before walking to the first pew; he sat down and then waved to Eric to come over.

“What do you think about what you are doing?” The priest asked, there was a smile on his face.

Eric thought for a while, this was a question he failed to ask himself, a question he could not answer.

“You see, Lieutenant that question to others seems easy but difficult to you, because it’s an order and you soldiers are meant to carry out orders.” He stood up, placing his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“And you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.”

Eric watched as the priest walked away, he looked up at the giant wall clock hanging on the yellow wall, east of the chapel, it was almost mid-day.

And you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free. He kept on thinking about what the old man had told him. He walked out of the chapel and headed for the briefing room. He might not have a reason for doing what he was doing but he had a duty which was to protect his people.

“We do this in a quiet way, nobody gets hurt,” Eric said, looking at the soldiers who sat in front of him, fifteen in number.

“What if they attack?” One of the men asked, raising his hand up.

“Jesus, these men are farmers, they have women and children there. But if they do attack.” He paused and looked around.

“We contain them, we are armed and they are not. That should be a fear factor,” he continued.

“I will be leading this operation; we load them into the trucks and take them away, as far as possible,” Eric said before ordering the men out. He went into his office, a small round room with walls painted white. He walked over to the table and sat on it before surveying the room, beside the window, on the wall, an old calendar was hanged.

And you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.

He could not believe he was seeing it again, written in a tiny font on the calendar. He closed his eyes and shook his head, somehow he felt bad for what he was about to do, but a part of him kept on telling him that he had justified his cause, at least, he would let them leave their village unhurt. There was a knock on the door before it opened halfway.

“Sir, we are ready,” a soldier announced. Eric nodded before waving the soldier away. He stood up and went across his table; opened his drawer, apart from a few red files and a chaplet that were there, there was a pistol. He took it, checked if it was loaded before tucking it into his pants. He looked around the room once more before heading out. He was on his way to the car booth when he met Alexander, a corporal.

“Alexander, you were among those who went on a clearing mission yesterday?”

“Yes, Sir,” Alexander answered.

“I need you to run a check for me, a girl, Ama Williams. She was among those detained, about seventeen years of age.”

“Ok Sir!” Alex saluted before marching out.

Eric sat at the back of the jeep; they were already out of the capital and were heading towards the Butamwa. He looked around the jeep in which he sat. It smelt of Alcohol, probably the driver had drunk some before embarking on the mission with him, he wanted to question him but overlooked it, there were things going on in his mind that were more important than listening to excuses and apologies. How fast it had been, the death of the President was unexpected and shocking, yet, nobody believed it, not even him. He still remembered that morning; he was off duty and at home and had decided to play lawn tennis with his friend, Captain Monte at a lawn close to his home. They had not started when his wife came to inform him that he had a telephone call from work. Reluctantly he had walked back home to pick up the call.

“Lieutenant Eric,” He said, wiping the sweat off his face with a white towel.

“There is an emergency, Sir, turn on your radio, Sir,” the other end said before disconnecting the line. He had dropped the receiver and had gently walked over to the radio.

“There has been an attack on the President this morning; sources have confirmed that the President might have been killed when his air plane was blown up …” came the voice of a female reporter. That day had been tragic. He had immediately dressed up and Captain Monte had driven him to the barracks where he was briefed about the situation. All fingers pointed to one group of course, the Tutsis. The army had acted at once removing anyone in the army attached to the Tutsis. This was done to prevent anyone compromising the army’s objective which was to catch and deal with the culprits. Soon he had received information that the riots had broken out in various parts of the country and that the Tutsis were being fished out and killed, he had approached the Lieutenant Colonel on this issue but to no avail. He had seen the killings as unnecessary and was worried owing to the fact that civilians and militants took part in the killings.

“Eric whose side are you on in this issue? This is a matter of national security.” The man had told Eric.

“If the civilians want to help in eliminating this threat, then they are welcome to this.” His superior added before dismissing him.

To Eric, allowing the civilians to partake in this act would create a scene of lawlessness in the country, but it seemed as if he was the only one that saw it that way.

“Sir, we are here,” a young soldier announced as his jeep pulled over.

Amid the sporadic shooting of guns into the air, Eric got down from his jeep, he looked around the village, people were running around for shelter confused.

“Round them up, no one gets hurt,” he commanded taking some steps away from the jeep and observing the area. There was a church, right there in the middle of the village. He started towards it, deep down he could feel pity, he knew the villagers were not a threat but he had no other option, he was under an order and he had to carry out his duties. The only good thing he could do was to offer them protection till they were somewhere far; at least somewhere they could live, unlike those killed by angry mobs and militias.

The church was locked, Eric took a walk round it, he turned and walked back to where his jeep was parked. His men had rounded almost everybody up and they were all seated on the ground, both women and children.

“We have nothing to do with what is happening,” an old man had spoken up immediately; he had got close to them.

“Nobody is saying you did so, all we are doing is taking preventive measures,” Eric said with a smile on his face.

“You all will have to be displaced, maybe out of the country. Not everyone has to die,” Eric continued.

He looked around one more time before heading towards his jeep.

“Load them up,” he ordered, not even turning back to look at them.

He was about to open the door to the jeep when a loud cry from behind him drew his attention.

“Leave me alone, leave me alone,” A woman cried as one of the soldiers tore her clothes off her body. It happened so fast, a man stood up almost immediately and ran towards the soldier, punching him on the face with his fist before tearing the woman away from him. The soldier raised his riffle and wasted no time bathing the man with bullets. Things sprang out of control; the people picked up stones and sticks and started attacking the soldiers who replied in a similar manner, gunning down everyone they came across.

Eric just stood there shocked and confused, he screamed on top of his voice trying to order his men to stop but all efforts proved abortive. He looked around in utmost disappointment, he had failed, thing hadn’t gone as planned, he never predicted something like this would happen, a m******e under his watch. He heard a man scream behind him but before he could turn, a big stone landed on the right side of his face above his eyes. He staggered before falling down; he felt it, blood rushing right from where he had been hit. He looked up trying to grasp for breath as he found it difficult to breathe and beheld a man running towards him with a stick in his hand, gently he pulled out his pistol from under his pants and raised it towards the man. The man was almost upon him when without thinking, he pulled the trigger.

“There aren’t bad people that commit g******e; we are all capable of it… it just our evolutionary history.”

James lovelock.