I sit here staring at my laptop, trying to finish the story that I am writing but I simply can’t. It is not that I don’t want to, because I believe it will make an interesting read, but just that the sadness I feel at the moment almost makes it impossible for me to think of any other thing, other than the thought that consumes my mind.
I am perplexed at the senseless killing of nine people in Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, in Charleston, South Carolina. I do not know these victims in any way, but I hurt because they are humans just like me. I hurt at the way innocent lives were cut short. I hurt over the fact that a House of refuge and prayer was turned into a grizzly house of horror.
I pulled up the photo of the suspected perpetrator and spent quite some time looking at his young face, trying to decipher how one this young could bear such amount of hatred, bitterness and racism in his heart. Trying to decipher how he could have sat for an hour in the aura and midst of these people and still shot them in cold blood?
Was the preaching not to his liking? I questioned no one in particular.
What could have triggered premeditated murder such as this? No answers yet.
Twenty one years ago was just 1994, so it is very logical to assume that neither did this young man participate or benefit from slave trade, nor did he fight in the civil war. He was not born during the time of heated racial movement, except for recent sporadic police killing; so what could be his vexation? I am struggling to deduce what could be in the crazed mind of this young fellow.
If my little knowledge of American history serves me right, it has been more than a century and half that the civil war and slavery ended on the soil of The United States of America, yet happenings in recent times makes one begin to question if the racism existing in this vibrant nation does not portend far more danger than it is being glossed over to portray. It does seem for all intents and purpose that the black race is an endangered species in The United States of America. Slavery ended ages ago, yet the ghosts of slavery and second hand citizenry lingers on, consistently raising its rancid and ugly head.
I question what precepts and perceptions he was indoctrinated with. What kind of nurturing did this young man have; what could have transpired in his life and heart to arrive at this juncture? Is love so dead to some people that cutting down lives of other people becomes a mere pastime?
He has not only shed innocent blood, but he has equally broken the hearts of so many; and I dare hope his families own too by his actions. He has injured even those who look on from afar.
Why is racism feeding fat in America?
Are there any scientific or biblical proof that one race is really superior to the other?
Does any human have other elements flowing through their veins other than red blood?
Are we not all mortals who live and die at some point in our lives; or are some privileged not to die in the way known to man?
Forgive my ramblings, but I ask these rhetoric questions in sad wonder at how we got it all wrong.
May perpetual light shine on the departed and may their souls rest in peace.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
“Hatred, ignorance and greed are killing nature and hatred always hurts the hater most“. Masanobu Fukuoka.