The Rain in April

Cloudy sky

Chapter 6

The rays from the sun that were entering the room from the window seams woke Eric up; he turned and looked at the small wall clock on the white wall of the small bedroom. He immediately jumped out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom, he was already late and he knew that his driver would arrive in no time.

“What do we have for breakfast?” Eric bent down and gave his daughter, Muteteli a kiss on the check before taking his seat at the end of the dining table.

“Toast bread with sauce,” his little daughter answered with a smile that revealed her incomplete set of teeth. Eric smiled as his wife passed a plate of sauce to him. He was about to take his first bite when a vehicle roared into the compound. His wife who was still serving walked over to the window and peeped.

“It’s Dauda.” She turned and faced Eric who had already stood up.

“He should wait; you haven’t eaten your food.” She walked over to him and started buttoning up his green and brown army uniform.

“You know it’s not possible, he can’t wait.” He leaned forward and kissed her on her lips, he went over to where his daughter sat and knelt down beside her. He placed his left hand on her head and gently brushed her dark hair.

“Dad would be back soon and when I’m back, we would go to the lawn and play golf.”

She nodded before kissing him on the lips. Eric stood up and wore his green cap. He straightened his uniform with his hands and adjusted his tie, a brown tie that indicated his rank in the army.

“Hope I didn’t disturb your breakfast, Sir?” Dauda who was tall and dark asked, opening the door of the jeep for Eric to get in. Eric stopped halfway, looked at him and tried not to smile.

“You always do, always bear that in mind.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Dauda apologized.

“No, it’s the nature of our job, just one more thing, Sergeant.” Eric sat down before Dauda shut the door.

“Get yourself a haircut, one day; I might consider inviting you in for breakfast,” Eric finally smiled.

The ride to the army barracks was long and as usual, Eric occupied himself reading a newspaper. This was a habit he had learnt from the Lieutenant Colonel, his superior at the barrack. The man advised Eric to occupy himself with a newspaper whenever he was going to the barrack, so many times he had tried to persuade Eric to move into the barrack with his family but each time he had raised the topic; Eric declined opting to choose Dauda as his driver.

“That Sergeant who does not tidy up his hair?”

The Lieutenant Colonel had asked, bursting out into laughter.

“Why don’t you want to move into the barrack?” He asked after finding his voice.

“I have a little daughter; I would love it if she grows up outside the barracks. I don’t want her exposed to abuses. Besides, my wife had kicked against the idea of moving into the barracks so many times.”

“Hmm… you realize that I have a family too.”

“We are happy where we are, Sir.” Eric cut in immediately.

“Fine, you will have what you want,” the Lieutenant Colonel said, pointing to the door. Eric had almost left the office when the Lieutenant Colonel called after him.

“You would have to occupy yourself with a newspaper whenever you are traveling to work.”

“We are here, Sir,” Dauda announced, parking the jeep under a shade. Eric dropped the newspaper before opening the door; he came out, readjusted his cap and without hesitation walked towards the Lieutenant Colonel's office. He knocked twice on the door before entering the large office. The Lieutenant Colonel had a taste for flashy things and Eric spotted that immediately he entered the office. To the right was a shelf where old rusty newspapers were stored, right there at the centre of the room was a large table on top of which large books and files were arranged neatly. Also on the table, three glass awards stood elegantly, the award had been the pride of the Lieutenant Colonel. He alongside the Colonel had been rewarded by the late President on several occasions for their work in ensuring peace in the country. In front of the table, two black leather chairs were tucked neatly under it and sitting across the table was the Lieutenant Colonel, smoking from an old rusty pipe. The pipe which he claimed had been passed down to him by his father and grandfather before him. Behind him was a giant black board nailed to the white wall, a quote written in white chalk occupied almost half of the space on the board.

Where there is love, there is life.

The Lieutenant Colonel had of course portrayed this act, as long as Eric had known him, he was yet to fully understand the man’s view concerning family, still, it always sprang up, in their discussions, the man had always brought up his family, another thing he was proud of.

“Eric, thank goodness you are here,” he smiled briefly allowing some smoke out through his nostrils. He gently placed the pipe on the table before straightening himself on his seat. Eric looked at the Lieutenant Colonel, he was short, dark and plumb, he had short dark hair which was always neatly combed.

“We have information about a Tutsi community just few miles outside the capital. It’s called Butamwa.” The man rummaged through a pile of red files arranged on his table before pulling out one. He passed the file across to Eric who picked it up immediately.

“They need to be eliminated.”

“Eliminated? Do you mean killing them?” Eric asked, looking up from the file he was holding.

“According to the reports on this file, this community is mostly made up of children, women and mostly men who are farmers.” Eric dropped the file on the table.

“These people could possibly have nothing to do with what that have happened,”

He said.

The Lieutenant Colonel muffed loudly before relaxing his back on the chair.

“Possibly… that is the word, look Eric, this is an order, not from me but from my superior. The President of this country has been murdered, people are asking questions, very soon, it won’t be questions any more, and we would be looking at a possible genocide.” He stood up and collected the file from Eric’s hand.

“Get those people displaced and I don’t care how you are going to do it.” He was serious this time.

“Sir” Eric saluted before marching out.

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

James lovelock.