first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 13, 2015
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Monologue Mania Day # 648 Hate by Janet S. Tiger Nov.21, 2015
by Janet S. Tiger
(c) 2015 all rights reserved
(Head bowed, covered in a scarf, the Nigerian woman brings flowers onstage and places them)
Goodbye my friend.....I am sorry it had to be like this.
(She turns to the audience)
I do not believe that the press, the media…...that is you, the person who reports it all….I do not believe you.....can ever do justice to these horrible events, but I will tell you now about my friend, who lies here a victim.....a victim of hatred that is bred into children from when they are born.
My friend and I met in school, we became teachers together. I went to teach in a school near where I was born, she went to a place, a small village a few hundred miles from here - a million years away.
She would write, and call me, telling me about how backward things were. I could not believe it, so she would send photos. Two days before the attack, we talked, and laughed, and made plans to meet in the new year.
We always made plans, but not always did we meet. Such is life. Such is death….. We meet here for the last time.
(She sighs heavily, stands tall)
Boko Haram is something you read about in your papers, you see reports on your Internet. But the reality, is that someone, some human being, has been twisted into something that kills other human beings.
My friend tried to defend the girls being taken. They chopped off her head. That is why the coffin is closed.
It's funny how the words are simple – chopped off her head
And I read about other times and other places, people who did try to help….like my friend……and I wonder, what would I have done in her shoes? And I am grateful the attack came two days before I went to finally see her village….while I cry for her…..and will always cry for her……I am happy to be alive…..…..but inside, I think about…hate…….
Do I hate the men who killed her?
That is a good question.
Do I hate a lion that is hungry and comes into my hut and eats my baby?
It does not know any better. It was raised to kill ....to eat .....to live. Now my neighbor……the man who stands by, with a spear, and watches that lion kill my baby....who turns his head because he is happy the lion eats my baby and not his......that man is very hard not to hate.
So it is with the people who watch Boko Haram kill, the people who have the guns and the money to stop these lions of pain.......I want to ask them, how can they watch and do nothing? How can you stand by and see these lions destroy your neighbors, destroy your village, destroy…..the world……I ask those questions because….those are the people I want to hate.
(She turns to leave, stops, looks back)
Can you understand that? Can you put that in your paper? Will the people who read, know....I am talking about....them.....I am talking about ….me…..
(She exits to a difficult future)