Every one of us
has that friend who will crave for attention, usually, by not necessarily
seeking it. They are mostly loners. They do not do crowds. They are the type
that will keep to themselves even when on a night out and everyone else is
screaming their lungs out.
Like a startled
centipede, they will curl up in one corner, face pensively glued on some smart
phone in their hands. Some people gradually slip into depression with no idea
what they are getting into.
A little over a
decade ago, one young man sat in a form 1 class with kids several years
younger. For some reason, he mostly kept to himself. Other times, he kept a
small circle of friends he felt understood him. He probably felt out of place. Sometimes.
He had forged
friendship with students a couple of years and classes his senior, despite his
calm and reserved persona. Once in a while, he and two of his friends would
pass by State House (as our room was then referred to) for the occasional
chitchat.
Sometime towards
the end of second term, James came by. He looked a little bothered and pensive,
though one could easily have mistaken his veneer for his usual behavior. I do
not recall what he mumbled, and would not have made much sense of it had it not
been for an incident that happened a couple of weeks later.
James had known
about the existence of a mini home armory for a while. He was friends with the
guys that were entrusted to take charge of the place. He could sneak in and
pick a gun and (almost) do anything he wanted.
He did, one day.
It was a cold
Saturday evening when James eventually found his way into the store and reached
out for an AK47. His guardian – then the army chief – was away, having
travelled on some official assignment. Cold muzzle pointed to one side of his
head and one hand in firm grip on the other end of the Kalashnikov, he pulled
the trigger. In a flash, James was no more.
News of his death
spread like wild fire. We were both in shock and total disbelief. I still
recall Radio West’s Birungi Michael Bahinyoza’s headline that evening like it
was yesterday. Then followed Capital FM, and Sunday Vision carried a screaming headline
the following morning. James, indeed, was gone.
A suicide note,
probably written in haste, did not say much, save for the fact one could only
hazard implied betrayal and frustration.
James Kikukule
Kigo would probably still be alive, going about his business like any other 28
year-old would, had someone whispered words of encouragement months before he made
that tragic decision to take his own life.
- Dan
A.
True north learnings will make you come out of your troubled past and help you to lead the present happily. Teaches you the positives and negatives of you and helps you select your goals correctly in your future days of life.
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