In Boko Haram's Den - A Short Story
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Image sourced from Ynaija
At sundown, when the brilliant fire of the sun had faded into the western wing of the sky, the Boko Haram fighters who had captured us brought us into the execution arena.
The arena was a horrible place, the stench of death filling the suffocating air. Not too far away, a heap of headless human skeletons and a few shattered skulls littered the barren floor. We were doomed, for the beautiful vultures hovering acrobatically in the sky would soon feast on our flesh.
"Bring these infidels hither," the leader of the group, who had a burnt set of teeth and a squinted eye, commanded. "And tie them to the stakes where we shall feed their heads to the birds of the air. These are the enemies of Allah, for they corrupt our young men with western education."
The men who led the four of us obeyed. And a few moments afterwards, we were firmly tired to the stakes where our heads would be decapitated by the hefty-looking executioner.
"Begin," the Commander roared wildly, his eyes nearly popping out of his hairless head. "These infidels have mocked Allah and we shall show them mercy by killing them, tonight.
At these words, the executioner charged towards us like a mad buffalo. I was standing in the extreme right and hoped that the execution would start from the extreme left. And my prayers was answered, for the executioner charged towards the man in his far left. In one full swing of his axe, the man's head tossed on the floor like a coin.
Afterwards, the executioner retired again and came for the next man until I was the only man whose head was still sitting firmly on his neck. At last, the executioner retired and charged towards me, his companions cheering madly as he came.
However, when the executioner was just a few yards away, the Commander rose to his feet and shouted,
"hold." Immediately, a deafening silence fell on the arena. "We shall not behead this man today like his friends. Tomorrow, we'll take him to the mountain top and cast him down to the warm rocks beneath."
The Commander had unintentionally saved my life, for that very night the Nigerian forces invaded his camp and rescued me together with some Chibok girls.
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"The pen is mightier than the sword"
P2, Japanese Wako marauders Yamaguchi and Watanabe
speech is silver, but silence is golden proverbial saying, mid 19th century; meaning that discretion can be more valuable than the most eloquent words (see also the abbreviated form silence is golden). "speech is silver, but silence is golden."
mimesis to variety
The three wise monkeys are a pictorial maxim, embodying the proverbial principle "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil". The three monkeys are Mizaru, covering his eyes, who sees no evil; Kikazaru, covering his ears, who hears no evil; and Iwazaru, covering his mouth, who speaks no evil. There were actions and behaviors demanded of us based on the three monkeys, but nothing was said about the fourth monkey. The fourth monkey was do no evil (Shizaru). The stories of the four monkeys were popular in Japan in the 17th century. Their origin is between 2 and 4 BC in China.
Mamluk of general Mueller, deep in the Soros pocket of Clinton's purple people eater
A work of fiction?