I heard guns rattling while I prayed bent in the middle of the night. I looked up at the stars – sparking white crystals.
“Duck, take cover,” said a voice.
“Cover from whom, from what?” I asked.
“My own people are killing me – with whom I share the same colour of blood as mine, same parent as mine, same neighbour as mine, and same god as mine. Why should I run, and for what?” I said.
“You run from mindlessness which is not your own, for the life you need to save which is your own.”
So I hid to live.