tHE GaLA

The Gala…

Here we were dressed in our tuxes and bow-ties, sipping on exotic spirits in the company of our beautiful wives, elegantly dressed in dinner gowns and jewellery, listening to an astounding diva..

Her voice was deep, her song was soulful, the melody was rapturous, now this was a singer..

Through the glass, one would notice the greens, the lawn garnished with beautiful shrubs, tall trees, and a river..

The view was excellent, the ambience was palpable, the people here were definitely elitist, of great calibre..

The meal was nice, they all looked so enticing, I chose mushrooms, samosas, grilled fish, and a familiar pasta..

There were people to meet, issues to discuss, so, after the meal and all its clutter..

Everyone soon got down to the chatter..

Tonight, a man of repute, was launching a book, as well as a charity for cancer..

Yet there was so much more to talk about, elections were fast approaching, and our host was a major flag-bearer..

Here the country’s elite and political maestros assembled, brimming with talk of strategy, tactics, money and power..

Unknown to us, a not so elitist group were also having their own fora..

Not so far from our venue, hidden by the forest and its trees, were a group of men, being addressed by their leader..

Here there were explosives, guns, ammunition, cheap whisky, and cigars..

A group of men, determined to change the course of things, to facilitate karma..

They cannot continue to deprive our people, of education, of good roads, of jobs, of constant power supply, good health…..while their accounts get fatter..

Enough is enough, must be our mantra!!!

We must march today..today we die, not as mere men , but martyrs , not as slaves, but as heroes, today we become winners..

They are seated, having fine wine, smoking expensive cigars, talking about us like they our slave-masters..

Determining our fates, the fate of industry, who gets what contract, while our children die of malaria..

We want a new breed, and as we have planned all these years, the ones who will make the change, are now ready, we must rid ourselves of these fools, we can do far better

And the man went on and on, inspiring his followers to rid the world of its evil, embodied by these men and their wives, to end an era..

So here I was, immersed in conversation with a brilliant oil tycoon, who was in support of the deregulation policies, and a strong party member..

My phone rang, it’s a satellite phone, all other lines were with my personal assistant, and this was only for really important calls, major clients or foreign partners..

 So I stepped out of the venue, through the backdoor, walking across the green lawn, away from the glare of security lights, the sound of chatter, and sweet voice of the diva..

As I picked the call, hoping it was really good news, perhaps it was that Hawaiian estate developer..

Out of the corner of my eye, i noticed figures running, muffled shouts, sounding like orders..

I was distracted from my phone conversation, as suddenly i heard an explosion, one, two, three, explosions, people running out of the banquet, seeking cover.

They were shot down, as they tried to run, there was no refuge, no shelter..

The security had been taken unawares, suicide bombers had stormed into the venue, detonating their explosives one after the other..

Where I was, I stayed transfixed, yet hidden, as I watched, I saw pieces of flesh, bone and glass, litter everywhere, this is terrorist! My mind screamed, Mass murder..

The smell of roasted flesh, the eerie silence, preceded the orders given after..

“Make sure everybody is dead”!! , make sure, and I saw them move back and forth, checking the dead, as i retreated further..

This would be all over the news tomorrow. Mr. president and his wife had been killed, the vice-president, so many political stalwarts and businessmen…a coup d’état of sorts. The security must have been compromised, the death toll would be about 300 if not higher..

I sat in the thicket for 8hours, according to my satellite phones clock..Blood supply to my buttocks had been compromised, because I’d been seated on a rock, my eyes were bloodshot, my head was pounding, I said another quick prayer..

As I got up from the rock, I felt myself hit the floor, that’s weird, that’s so not right, my eyes opened, meeting me on the floor , beside my bedroom slippers..

I looked up, I saw my clock, I got up, went to my wardrobe, opened it, there I saw a brand new black tuxedo. Folded neatly beneath the suit was a neatly folded white shirt, with black and gold ferragamo cufflinks to match and a black bowtie-the type i prefer..

I’d been dreaming…the suit must have inspired the dream, it was so vivid. This is real life, its 8:30am, Monday morning and I’m just a government worker…

 

 

 

 

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About slickjay

a writer of sorts, a poet and some...
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