Dreaming of a Better Life in the Face of Adversity

The table covered with a white table cloth embroidered with sunflowers;a spread of local coastal delicacies on top.Five bottles of beer and one bottle of wine at the corner and next to them a bowl filled with ice cubes.Music is playing ''Pwani kuna raha'' ;a song infused with longing for the beautiful coastal beach.The guests start arriving in dribs and drabs;a mark of a joyful coastal evening.They are friends from across the spectrum of society;muslims,christians and some indians.All this would not have been worth noting some years back but now it is a crucial reminder of how diverse life is.

Everyone has a story to narrate.There is laughter and song.Glasses toast each topic.A TV screen tuned to an international satelite channel is showing the recent attacks at a local church in Likoni whose savagery,indiscriminately unleashed,claimed lives and injured scores of innocent worshippers.The attacks overshadows their conversation but the guests try to keep their spirits high and cheer again.They never thought that some of their friends would be dead today and that some of them would be victims of bungled attempts at their precious lives for raising their voices against religious fundamentalism.Five of them bear the scars of the nefarious attempts on different parts of their anatomy.Most conspicous are the bandages swaddling their heads to cover wounds sustained during a close shave with death.

These people thought that their well-intentioned cause for peace and tolerance yield fruits.Their attempts to offer a cross-cutting ideology diametrically opposed to the hateful fundamentalism were met with incessant assassination attempts on them;a sobering reality that has forced them to seek refuge in self-imposed seclusion.They were part of local coordination committees which organised drives purposely engineered to counter hateful extremist messages with the real potential of ripping apart the fabric of ther society.

I followed their their movements and activities  and watched their enthusiasm,determination and hopes for a better life.Now am getting to see them again at a local joint where they have retreated  to experience the warmth and blood of a celebratory yet sobering jamboree,and also to reminisce the good old days.

Each of them still feels a strong sense of duty towards his lovely county.One has volunteered to educate children from indigent backgrounds,the other has established a foundation to take care those afflicted by HIV/AIDS.One is writing a book on  the awful spectre of terror hanging over his locality and the other one is working for the Fourth Estate.

All is not well in this part of the world.Faces are grim and aprehensive.Though life seems normal,there is an agonising sense of apprehension born of terror.Everyone I know and meet has visibly grown weary of the sobering state of affairs.Any sense of normalcy is deceptive.Gunshots can be heard in the distance and a law enforcement operation is already underway to weed out threats to the hitherto relative peace and tranquility.

Locals feel let down by the political establishment.''Who cares about us?'' they ask.Still there is a curious sense of defiance that comes out of adversity.There is a strong sense of belonging that ties the people to the soil;the tasty local delicacies,the beauty and cool breeze of the beach,the fresh fruits, maybe,that keeps the locals going or make those who left want to come back home but a dream of a home free of fear,violence and extremism.

In the face of the damning reality,the patrons of this local joint remain upbeatabout the futuree.They are adamant not to allow those unsympathetic to the question of peace and tolerance dampen their spirits or thwart their vision of a rainbow society.One removes a cigar strategically kept in one of his breast pocket and lights it as if to gain some mysterious inspiration to sustain his positive perspective or perhaps make it more intense.Laughing hysterically,he invites his cronies to toast to a better future.

''Cheers!Cheers!Cheers!'' they shout delightfully and in unison typical of a choir.

From a dimly lit corner a few metres away and flaunting my teetotaler credentials by gulping a glass of lemonade,I enviously watch them toast as I shake my head in rueful amusement.I experience a melange of conflicting emotions;from bitterness to happiness.Bitter at the unfathomable fascination of their tormentors at impeding thier vision.Happiness that even in the context of a hideous reality their sense of a better future remains intact.A strong urge to join in suddenly inhabits my spirit.I remain transfixed at my dark corner unsure of my instincts.