“This fight is the noble sacrifice we have made.”
The country glued to their television sets watched with bated breath. Many countrymen nodded in approval. Others cheered him on. It was a war but a noble, unselfish one. It would restore safety. It would not kill. It would not even hurt. It would set people free from their self-destructive behavior. You know like all wars propose to do.
“But this one is different. War against terror. War against ignorance. War for development. War for peace.”
He had to justify, defend his choice. The choice he made on behalf of a nation watching his every move. The choice, he so boldly, made for a world scrutinising him.
I didn’t have the heart to pull my 5-year-old away from the television to tell him it was all lies. So I merely changed the channel to a cartoon show.
BBC aired the proceedings of the high profile domestic murder case. The accused had shot his wife and four children; he pleaded guilty and insanity. But the media trial had sentenced him to death. The actual court was yet to give its verdict.
I sat in my comfortable couch and bit my fingers.
“This is the only way to end violence.”
I remained unconvinced as I saw the accused’s eyes dart quickly from one jury member to the next. He knew his sentence. His eyes gave him away. It was just time before he paid for his crime. The minutes ticked away.
“He will be publicly executed to deter any others from making the same choices.”
A thunderous applause followed as the court room erupted in cheers. The public had won.
The man was escorted for his beheading which would be aired on prime time television. My 5-year-old watched confused. I changed the channel again, afraid he will be scarred for life.
The world continued to spin, day after day after day.