We did not go to school on that Friday morning. The night before had been rough. It was turbulent and scary. The strange cry "non-indigenes must go" rent the air.
Little did i Known what it meant. That carry all the same haunted me in my sleep. My dreams were horrible. Why was mum so troubled? Why was Dad suddenly so pale and sickly? That night Mum and Dad had a forboding silence. They looked at each other, they did not smile. They were utterly silent. Their silence spoke millions. Fear rules the night. When the family bell summoned us to the family altar, it seemed that it tolled its last for the humans. Death smelled in the air, death was in the eyes..... But why? We were not told. Yes during the prayer at the family altar, Dad had told us there was trouble in town. No one who was a non-indigene was safe.

I know not, Amina
When again on your brightness of smile
My eyes will rest awhile

Nor when again of your softness of voice
My ears will drink by eager of choice

When again into the silver moonshine
You early at night or late venture
As is your wont in weather fine
Astute, awake in bed as doters may, i'll lie
Dreaming of grasping  your velvety texture