It became the norm, sad as the situation was.

It amazed her that one part of the world could live in such quiet, peace and harmony whereas another part of the world was in chaos, where hope was torn into pieces by bullets sweeping past the ears of fleeing children and mothers and fathers and very old people who could not be carried along.

She was fortunate to be in a new country, learning English. Many of her friends far away in her village in central Africa were not as fortunate as she was.

But the images of war, they hardly fade out of the memories of those who experience it. For as she’s in class and the teacher is trying his best to make the class interesting for her and her fellow francophone students, Makela was absentminded. She was far. Far away in her native country.

Armoured vehicles roamed the filthy town like unwelcomed cockroaches scavenging a sacred meal. Panic became the new normal, and crossing over dead bodies and animals to do quick shopping and be back home before the curfew was nothing strange.

It was an open secret. That starving young girls were going to see the peacekeeping soldiers at night to be sexed in order to earn their daily bread. At least, these soldiers were not as bad as those of their neighboring countries who raped women and young girls. They’ve heard that there were so many white bastards roaming in those black communities that had no white residents.

Some of her friends joked that they would love to have white kids of their own. But Amakela shook her head. Stupid girls! They know not what they’re saying.

What baffled Amakela was that everyday in the international media, there were reports of the ongoing war in her country, but no journalist seemed interested in stories of young girls who had to offer their bodies to peacekeeping soldiers in exchange for food to feed their families.

Aside the daily bread, those girls and their families were assured of protection from rebel attacks if they remain loyal girlfriends to the soldiers.

The smart girls were playing both sides. No chances were taken. At all cost, they mustn’t lose any relative. Fatima was the one who devised the strategy but many of the girls found it dangerous so they never took it up. But Fatima was bold. She had one of the key figures in the rebel group as a lover and one captain in the peacekeeping force as boyfriend. One could never tell which card came in handy under the circumstances.

But Amakela wouldn’t be involved in any of that. Their church services could no longer be held, schools were closed, and the vibrant Metutsi town became desolate like some forgotten world of ancient times.

She couldn’t cope with the new situation. And daily she prayed hard for an escape.

Finding herself in a new country vibrant with prosperity and peace was a miracle. Now she was learning English with other francophone students from different countries. It was a chance to start afresh and make new connections. Her teacher Mr. Amoah was kind and very patient.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about her family still locked in the teeth of the war machines grinding in her former neighborhood in central Africa.