For the last eight days, I've been a soldier: The one who shoots at loyalists, with a gun in my hand and no smile in my face. My only job was to kill and kill more loyalists. I thought that I would have to do this forever since the war was also never going to end. I thought that all I'm useful for is to shoot at the loyalists. Even today, I was at a major battle with the loyalists to gain control over San Ildefonso. We did the best we could, we survived but we lost. But that did not mean that we had lost an entire war. It was just one of the battles within the war. I was injured on my arm but it wasn't something that didn't worry me when I finally got to talk to Nacio. (That’s how I call Ignacio) Lolo was hurt and it was obvious that he was badly injured. He was sent away in a helicopter but all I can do now is to believe that he is okay and that he will live. However what I was surprised at was the fact that I hadn't died. I was alive and according to Nacio, Captain Mendoza told him that I will be sent back to my village to become a teacher and Nacio would be sent to U.S. to become a doctor for the country. At first, I was puzzled by the decisions made by Captain Mendoza. After all, it was him who had brought us here, to become a soldier, to fight for the country. But I realized that I wasn't thinking deeply enough. Yes, I won't be shooting at loyalists like we have been told in the last few days, and so would Nacio. I will be studying and then teaching but all for my country. Just becuase I am not participating in the war, it does not mean that I am abandoning my country. Like Captain Medoza and Nacio, I'll be fighting in my own way.
You can never imagine what a war would really be like until you are actually a part of it. It's so real and so brutal that I can swear that I'd be able to remember everything vividly that has happened so far till I die, if I live through this war. I would never forget how it felt like to hold a gun and actually aim at someone for a first time. I knew that the loyalists deserved to die. They were wicked and evil-hearted and I thought that it would be easy to finally make a hole through one of those brutal people. Today, as our troop was heading towards San Ildefonso to claim back the territory since it has gotten into the loyalists hands, we encountered some loyalists across a river. We were ordered to wait for a signal and shoot at the loyalists as we got into our positions. I got ready in my position and waited anxiously for the signal. Although it was only a few seconds before the sergeant gave out the signal, it seemed like hours for me. As soon as I heard the word, "fire" I pulled my trigger again and again though I was not even sure if I was shooting at a right angle. Terrible, sharp sounds of the guns and the horrified shouts and screams of the loyalists who were being shot at hurt my ears as I tried to ignore them. The shooting never ended until the tortured screams of the loyalists ended. Bodies were soon floating on the water here and there. And yet, I couldn't relax. I was sure that one of the loyalists got away or is playing dead and if I took my eyes away from the corpses, it would stand up and shoot at me. As I got into my tent, I couldn't close my eyes and help not to think how useless I was. Everyone seemed fine after the shooting. Here, I was lying next to my friends, scared that the dead bodies would come alive and haunt me. I wish I am a good soldier like Lolo and my other friends.
Image source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01123/lra-child_1123490c.jpg
Another village was slaughtered. In a few years, nobody will remember that place and there will be no trace of these people who lived in that place. Bushes and trees will soon cover up the whole area, and there will be no traces of blood left there. The entire village had been tortured even though they were not rebels nor did they do any harm to the loyalists. But they were slaughtered because they helped us. So if they hadn't helped us, would they be alive now? Would the village be alive with smoke from fire and laughter of children if we had been a little earlier? I can't help feeling guilty about this whole thing. I was tired and wanted to eat more and rest a little longer. I thought that I deserved all that. Now that I come here and see what these people have gone through, I hate myself so much for being so greedy. These people here could have been waiting for me desperately, just to save themselves. They wouldn’t want food or water at that time. All they would ask for it to spare their lives. And here I was, always ready to rest and relax while a few miles away, these people would have been being tortured to death. I saved lives of two innocent victims of the war today. One was a girl about my age, and the other, just a little infant. When I found the girl in the middle of the forest, I wanted to help her badly, not thinking about what I’d really do. I just ran back to the village and called for help. When the girl finally got to rest I felt much better. But I couldn’t help thinking about the village which now was a grave and promised myself to never forget that place.
Image citation: http://www.vanityfair.com/images/politics/2007/07/poar03a_darfur0707.jpg
What am I doing here? What is going to happen to my family? What if I die during the war? Am I going to be left on the field to die helplessly while my family starves to death? A million questions went through my head today as I watched the funeral for the soldiers who had died in the middle of the battle. The kids here believe that if we die in the battlefield, our family would be taken care of and be informed about my death. I hardly believe so. After my father was sent away by the rebels, we never heard from him again. My family decided that he was probably dead. However, nothing was sent to support us. All the soldiers did was to take away the little food we had collected and now, take me from my family. Many people are so sure that when the war is over, we would be free and finally peaceful. How can they think so? What if we lose? And yes, even if we DO win the war, it's obvious that and the same thing will repeat again. Those with power will just become more and more greedy like what happened to the loyalists and eventually everything will be back to the same point. And sooner or later someone would start a revolution against the new government and another thousand of innocent people would be killed and tortured. So what exactly are we fighting for? Both the sides tell the people that they are fighting for the rights for all the people, for the good of people and yet they are not fighting for the same thing. The more I try to understand, the more confused it gets. All I know is that I'm one of the revolutionaries. And whether I like it or not, I'll have to fight for them. Because only then I can return to my family and live.
Image citation: http://blogs.reuters.com/global/files/2008/12/central-african-republic-soldiers-patrol.jpg
Although I've been here only for a day, it seems like I've been here forever. Right now, I'm in a revolutionary troop led by Captain Mendoza. I still can't believe that I'm a part of a war, a revolution. It was supposed to be another ordinary day. Gathering and selling more bananas for the never satisfied mouths of my family and chat with friends randomly. That's what I thought it would be like today until I heard a rumbling noise of trucks arriving at our village. It was the rebels although they were not here today for more food and supplies. Instead, they recruited us, Ignacio, Lolo, and I. We were taken to their fortress, which was heavily guarded, where we noticed how many young kids like us were working there: Each one of them holding guns with blank facial expressions. My friends and I could instantly feel the weird and tense atmosphere surrounding the whole area that was totally different from our plain village. Just yesterday, all I knew was how to wrap some bananas. In a few days, I'll be learning to kill people, become a soldier. I'll be fighting for the rebels, and all I'll be useful for would be shooting at the enemies. If I die in the middle of the fight, I'll be left to rot. Nobody would be sympathetic enough to just pray a few words for me. But what's far scarier is that I would become that person: Someone who just abandons injured people behind, busy trying to save himself rather than to help the people who need my help. Kids here, like Esteban and Juan, are actually willing to fight for the rebels and win the war. They thought that this war, the forty third one, could bring peace and freedom to everyone if we won. I'd be happy to fight this war if it was that easy.
