This is a short depiction of the post election anarchy in Kenya after the general election which was in December 2007, where over two thousand were brutally people killed and over three thousand others displaced internally. The evil is seen through the eyes of a ten year old boy called Fla. The occurrence opened the hypocrisy of love and brotherhood which many people in the world sham to exhibit to their neighbors. Despite this having happened in Kenya it can be can be, has being and will be a cause of many civil strives in the world.

This article is dedicated to all the victims of the civil strive and gives thumbs up to all those who assisted the victims in escaping and the later giving them refuge in their homes and other places.

The heart is one of the most vital organs in the human; it pumps the blood which contains nutrients and oxygen to all parts of the body. But the heart is a source and a reservoir for a lot vices as hate, envy and greed. As in the saying ‘the matters of the heart’ it harbors a lot of lethal secrets. When the heart is overburdened with sorrow it bleeds; but not literary! It pains forever.

The different campaign trails passing by the village of Barito gave great excitement to Fla; many gifts came along ranging from money and an assortment of clothes and other political apparel made the December holiday unforgettable. Little did the young Fla know what would follow some days to come? In his mind he did not fully comprehend significance, and innocently sang to the tune and echoed his parent’s political stand.

The election formed two main political rival parties based on ethnic alignment; in all his life he had never conceived the idea that his people were foreigners in their own country. He spoke the local language but he always wondered why they had different naming systems. Then came the polls day, the anxiety of the delayed results raised temperatures in all citizens; creating sharp divisions in every human indulgence. Things that were easily agreed upon earlier become bones of contention.

On Sunday, two days after the election, Fla woke up as usual ready to attend the Sunday school which was part of the day’s joy; on top of having to wear his best clothes. Unfortunately, he did not notice the unusual dead silence had befallen their homestead. He was later to realize that the livestock had not been milked or fed, the door to their house had been broken and his parents were missing. As he proudly and piously strolled towards the church; that’s when he realized that all was not well.

On the way he saw a group of machete wielding people of whom he recognized almost all of them and another that was kneeling down begging for their lives. Thinking that there had been a robbery somewhere in the village, he thought in his heart thieves deserve to die.

In Barito, it had become a common site of law breakers being dealt with by the mob; mob justice due to the corrupted form of legal security system where the guilty went scot-free. On a closer look he became petrified seeing; his father mother, uncles, aunts and other close friends all bleeding from cuts and beatings. His heart went cold and he surged forward ready to undergo anything than see his family being hurt.

An uncle-through tribal intermarrying quickly grabbed him and firmly pinned him against his body deterring him from passing to the kneeling group. When he persisted an electric slap cooled him leaving him only watching with his mouth agape. The leader of the group, a well know church elder passed the verdict and the rowdy, blood thirsty group descended on the helpless group; merciless kicking and slashing followed till all lay down as still as logs. Blood spattered from their bodies soiling everything. When all were still, petrol was poured on the bodies and lit.

The odor of the roasting human flesh is something that will never be erased from his mind. Later they razed their homes and confiscated anything that they would lay had on; livestock, household goods and businesses.

Fla phobia for everyone, he trusts no one than himself and his nights are filled with nightmares. His heart bleeds as he wonders why such impunities could come from the people he played and prayed with, dined with and regarded them as his own.

Since then he has vowed not to go to the place he called home and has opted to be placed in an orphanage rather than be adopted by many willing families.

Despite the continued counseling, don’t you think one day his bleeding heart might propel him to wage vengeance on the killers of his family making the violence to never end? This should be a lesson to all people in the world, ‘not all those who laugh with you love you!

Authored By Jeremiah Alfred Ngunjiri, Kenya