prinsbinky Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭

Dion, a citizen of a small country (suriname) in South America, was sick and tired of the ruins his city had fallen into, the bondage his people seemed complacent with. He was tired of the aggressive ruling of BDS; a government that was brutal and worse than leeches in their greed and thirst for everything his city had to offer. He had no true means to fight, no way of sparking a rebellion in his people who had given and lost everything, preferring rather to forget and wallow in self-pity, until he found a forgotten library that gave him hope and armed him with news big enough to wake a mummy from its slumber. It was big enough to move his people- what was left of them, to fight back. NB: Please note no part of this work should be reproduced or distributed in any form and by any means electronic or otherwise without the consent of the author O.J Zainab. All rights reserved.


#9 içinde Macera Tüm halka açık. © Copyright ©️ 2024 by Zainab Oluremi. No part of this work should be reproduced or distributed in any form and by any means electronic or otherwise without the consent of O.J Zainab. All rights reserved.
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Fighting back


Dion jumped down from his high perch on his favorite jagged rock, his booted feet scraping the gravel covering the dirtied expanse of the ground. The hard glint of his intense gaze took in the destruction around him, the debris of fallen buildings brought on by the new regime, and wondered why the fuck they still entertained them? Ever since BDS invaded their city, it has been one uproar after the other, one chaos after the other, one destruction after the other, and the mother head of all, one oppression after the other. They no longer had a voice; any objection was taken as a threat against the reigning power, an insult to their ruling punishable by law. Bad things happened to offenders; they were taken into a building where some ugly shit was done to them and returned as completely different people with no memories of their actions before being captured. He had seen it happen to many folks; some he knew personally and others just in passing.
So he learned to keep a low profile, to blend in and pretend all was good when in fact nothing was. His heart bled for his city; a city that had once bloomed with life, laughter, and riches was now crawling with despair, destitute and diseases thickened with silence; the kind that eats you inside and fills your soul with loneliness. People are too scared to voice out their wants and needs, scavenging for food and water, and doing tedious jobs just to survive. He couldn't reconcile with the new reality; his city used to be a place patronized by dream chasers looking to make it big, but not anymore. His city was only a depleted shadow of itself deep in oppression.

It was horrific, and he felt helpless. He couldn't change the world; his city alone. He needed a unified force behind him to have a fighting chance. Almost everyone was too scared to think of going against BDS, rather preferring to live an oppressed life under curfew.

He expelled a deep frustrated breath thinking how his favorite place was not doing its usual job of keeping his ugly thoughts at bay, his senses too heightened and desperate to be held down. He could sense something foul on the horizon, something deadly underfoot. This rigid hateful regime was going to be the end of his city if they continued sitting on their asses with their arms folded.

He placed his fingers in his mouth and let out a deep whistle that brought his German shepherd dog running towards him from whatever corner he had crawled into. Lucky was always looking for adventure, poking his black nose in places he should mostly boycott; he had his hands full with Lucky but wouldn't change him for the world. "That's a good boy," he cooed giving his shaggy head a soft pet. "Come on, time to go." He made his way down windy abandoned streets, mindful of his surroundings and alert to any change in the air. Rustic abandoned cars were loitering the streets, garbage gracing every surface, and the wind playing havoc with them. The more he walked the more the ruins that wrapped his city in a vice thickened. He didn't understand what BDS stood to gain leaving his city in ruins; watching the people they governed live in pain mingled with depression. It depicted how sadistic they were.
Dion lost his train of thought when Lucky shot down the street in pursuit of something invincible to him. He took off after him yelling his name.

Damn! His dog was fast on his paws and obstinate too. He turned the corner and saw his dog standing before a huge building that was covered in dead shrubs and crawling plants. The building looked abandoned but seemed in good shape; not affected by the chaos around stunning him.
How had he missed this building in the past? He had taken this route numerously but missed it. Strolling deeper into the welcoming folds noticing how deeply contrasted the interior was to the outside. There were no cobwebs, dead shrubs, or wayward crawling plants here, instead, it was in pristine condition and glowed with lighting that turned on the deeper he traversed the wide expanse of the porcelain floor. In awe, he took in the intricate interior design that had a touch of vintage, unlike anything he had seen before.
How could he have missed this before? He berated himself. Though the building was hidden, he had a keen sight that missed nothing. So his finding– well Lucky's finding came as a surprise. As he perused the antique beauty around him, he was amazed at the rows of tall shelves that carried books that looked ancient revealing the fact that he had just stumbled upon raw treasure; the kind that filled him with hope. A forgotten library. An outstanding one, and he couldn't wait to unveil the information it possessed.

After all, knowledge was power.

He walked to the nearest shelf and scanned the rows of books on display, noticing something strange; the titles of the books were labeled with the names of countries, the shelves divided into sections that held the seven continents of the world; European countries, Asian countries, Australia, Antarctica, North America, South America, and Africa. His country Suriname was small in South America. It was a peaceful country until the BDS invasion. Their ruling was aggressive with no democratic bone. He wanted them out but couldn't sack them. He had tried forming a resistance squad but the number wasn't encouraging, people were too scared to retaliate, preferring to wallow in self-pity and forget, shoving the injustices dealt to them under the carpet. And he had no incentive to entice them with, nothing big enough to make them want to risk their lives.

Fighting back would be a suicidal quest with them outnumbered and without adequate ammunition, but in his book, it was better than doing nothing. If they had any hope of changing things, they would have to do something–fight back.

He scanned the shelves until he found the book that concerned him. It felt heavy as he carried it to the nearest desk and opened it. The title was 'The Memories of Suriname', it gave him pause, then piqued his interest. He wondered what he had stumbled upon. Which memories was the book talking about?

Deftly, he scanned through his gaze latching onto the written words, absorbing the news that iced his blood and made his head spin. News that would shake the world. Horrible things that occurred but somehow, mysteriously seemed to be absent from his memory bank. He had no recollection of any of these things happening.

This was ground shaking.

Nerve-wracking and mind-boggling.

How could he have forgotten such unforgivable incidents that changed everything and made them prisoners of an evil world, of a ruling system that didn't give a hoot about them, a ruling system that fed off their pain and fears? How could they have forgotten about a place like this? A place that wasn't destroyed by the chaos around. A place that held answers and information about their past. A place that held the key to freedom; and gave them a fighting chance and hope.

He had pegged the BDS wrong; they were much worse than he had thought. Much more evil. He felt vicious rage sweep through his body, clogging his mind with the burning need for vengeance. His people had to fight back, and he had the proof to spark a rebellion that would make history.

The BDS had swept through town killing almost everything in sight to spark fear and make survivors malleable. They hadn't spared the ruling government then, overthrowing and sentencing them to a life in captivity and that wasn't the worst of it, not even close! The BDS in their wicked glory had captured all the teens from the age of eleven to eighteen and slaughtered all the young youths from the age of eighteen to thirty-five mostly male. He guessed they didn't want to leave his city with any means to fight back. No wonder his city was crawling mostly with folks way past their prime, and those like himself who still had some fight in them were few– not exactly a fair number for an army. He was in his late thirties, and not exactly a trained soldier, but the violent anger cooking him was a forcefield greater than a thousand soldiers combined. He probably could move a mountain if he put his mind to it. And he planned on imbuing his fellow men with it. But he had to ask what they did to those innocent children they abducted. Were they still alive? Could they be saved?

He didn't know how to begin his search, but one thing was certain; it was time to fight back! The time of sitting idle and turning a blind eye was over!

He let out a painful gasp, his throat choking with tears as he noticed two names that touched a familiar chord within him and filled him with grave despair. His twin brothers were among the abducted and he had forgotten about them! How could he have forgotten? God, he would kill them all.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he pulled out his phone and took video shots of the secrets or proofs– he had no idea what to call them– and sent them to his best friend Mark who was a tech genius working with him in the shadows to free their city which was targetted because of its mineral abundance. He asked Mark to show it to everyone he could reach and assemble those burning with a vengeance and need to break free. He warned Mark to be discreet in his actions and asked him to bring those willing to the forgotten library. He was going to turn this place into their hideout where they would brainstorm ideas and tactics for bringing down the BDS government permanently.
By the time his friend appeared with people willing to risk their lives for freedom, it was a curfew, and he ushered them in swiftly glad they had come prepared. They came bearing food, water, and weapons. He was surprised to see women in the fold, and though their number couldn't compete with the enemy he was glad they showed up.

"I'm sorry, this is the number I amassed. The others are too frail and some had to stay behind to keep up their appearance."

"You did good Mark. Thirty is more than enough to start and make a change if we prepare," he pulled Mark aside to talk privately with him. "So I spent time ransacking this place after calling you and found these maps, I think they are useful."

"Let me have a look."

He handed it to Mark who spread it on the table and ran his gaze through it. "This is great Dion! A gold mine if you ask me. It's exactly what we need to turn the tide."

"That's what I thought. They are maps of tunnels that run through the City, and that one has the tunnel outline for the headquarters of the BDS," he picked up the map in question staring at it intensely. "We would need this for the fight ahead. But first I need to talk to the people."

"Agreed. But then we mustn't be complacent, that place is a maze, and even with the assistance of these maps it's not gonna be easy to break through."

"I know, and that's why we need the best hand on deck. We would put a foolproof plan in place before we move. But we have to move, we need to save those youngsters, my siblings included if they are still alive, and free our leaders from confinement."

"I know, you're right. God help us all. We need lady luck by our side for this battle."

"Luck won't cut it this time, but our determination would define our survival and success," he faced the small crowd gathered for one purpose; fighting back and reclaiming their city. He could feel the rage simmering in the stuffy air and it reflected his. "Thank you all for coming. We have a common goal to achieve and little time to do so. The plan is to infiltrate the camp of BDS using sleuth means for we wouldn't survive a full frontal attack on them, as we're outnumbered and don't have enough ammunition to take them on. But we have something bigger; something more powerful which is our thirst for retribution, our need to save our loved ones and we have nothing to lose but stand to gain everything. We would use the tunnels to infiltrate the enemy camp and take them unawares, destroy their weapons and data systems, find where they are holding our loved ones and leaders, and free them then get rid of BDS! Are you all with me?!"

"Yeas!!!!" Came the unified response that filled him with pride and respect for his people.

***

He divided the group into five sections; those who would keep watch and alert them through the walkie if something threatening cropped up, the squad who would find and destroy the BDS amoury decapitating their strength and using their weapons against them. They had strict instructions to plant the bombs accumulated in places that would bring the whole foundation crumbling down. Then he had a team who would break into the confinement and release the prisoners. Finally, he had a team who would shut down the surveillance, and copy and destroy every data the BDS had accumulated. Mark was on this team as he was a tech genius and he was leading the team tasked to destroy the armory and had one lady on his team. Diane was good with weapons and brave enough not to quake in the face of danger. He liked her strength, it rivaled that of a man.

He sighed turning his thoughts to the task at hand, they used the darkness as a shield to cloak their movements as they traveled the streets, keeping strictly to the shadows and miraculously avoiding the drones that flew above with their high-powered lights and surveillance cameras that scanned the streets for offenders. Anyone caught during curfew was severely punished and made a scapegoat. The victims were whipped thoroughly to serve as a deterrent.

The group in their various sections took different tunnel routes that led to their task destination.

The tunnel he was traveling with his little pack was moldy and had a rancid smell that made him and his teammates gag.

"Damn! It stinks down here," Diane complained close to his side.

"I know, a small price to pay for freedom," he murmured trying to encourage them. "Just think about the end, we're doing this for our city, for our families who are in captivity. Come on guys, we need to trudge on. Forget the smell and watch where you step. We should be out of these tunnels soon." They gave a halfhearted reply and they continued letting their touch lights guide their way. After an hour of moving through the tunnels, losing their way and getting on track, avoiding filthy rodents and spillages from sewage substances, they finally appeared at an outlet that led to a storage room. Stealthily they climbed out of the tunnel into the room and closed the tight-lipped round iron door. They could hear some voices from the other room, which meant some soldiers were about.
"What are we going to do?" Someone in their group asked.
"We would ambush them." Just then Mark radioed in claiming success. The other groups were successful; the prisoners were freed from confinement. The former president and his cabinet were on the brink of death from dehydration and starvation but the kids were healthy though numb. They were heading back to their hideout. Now, it was up to him to mete out the final blow that would cripple the BDS foundation and send them running from his city.

He would burn them down.

26 Ocak 2024 12:14 3 Rapor Yerleştirmek Hikayeyi takip edin
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Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭 O.J. Zainab, a young lady from Ghana who is always fascinated by the dreamy world of novels, and would love to give back to the world some joy she got from reading. She gets her inspiration from God, the love & support of family and friends. Shout out to the design owners used for my books.

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İleti!
mA maria Abubakar
A fantastic chapter, I enjoyed it.
February 01, 2024, 04:52
Shaun M Waller Shaun M Waller
A very good story, long live fighting for freedom.
January 27, 2024, 23:11

  • Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭 Oluremi Zainab 🇬🇭
    Thanks Shaun. I would read your gentleman story soon, excited to see the new chapters. January 28, 2024, 00:48
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