“Am not feeling well today, something is ailing me.”
“What is wrong?”
“I don’t know, am just not happy.”
Although my neighbor offered me supper later on, I declined. At around 8pm when she (my neighbor) was having her meal, an impatient thought came: ‘Where would I hide if someone came to attack us?’ And I was suddenly overcome by fear.
I took a torch and went around the house. When I checked my goat pen, I thought, here is just a perfect spot to hide.
Earlier that day, droves of monkeys had run towards our direction. They were chattering in groups. Loudly. ’What if they are trying to tell us something?’ I remember one of them was especially brave, as he ran right past us, then the rest followed.
But now it all makes sense because not one of them returned to the direction of the forest.
‘Why did I not I run away even after such clear signs?’
‘Don’t let these men shoot me’
As soon as I returned to the house, about 50 rough looking militia emerged. They ordered us to lie down and disassembled our phones.
“Dear God, please do not let these men shoot me.”
Miriam Mwenje’s life and those at the compound were spared, but she prays that by the grace of God, she can forget it all. At the time of the interview, she was making rounds in town, exhausted, a large brown leather bag on her shoulder. This has become her routine, before heading to Hindi Prison for the night. She tethers a handful goats here.
Due to lack of privacy at the compound, simple things like finding a place to change her clothes have been difficult.
World Concern has assisted to shield her from cold nights by providing a mat and blanket for her, together with other vulnerable women. 400 of them.
The biggest challenge for residents at the small Hindi village at the moment is in finding sources of income as there are little or no opportunities for labor. We are assisting, and the march is far from over.