Bang! Bang! Bang! I was having tea late on a Tuesday evening; I was waiting for the evening news to start. I yelled for the children to come upstairs; they were out playing in the yard. After the third blast, there was silence; I could see people running to the area where the shots were coming from. I stayed put, went to the verandah as the police mobile rushed through the neighbourhood with their sirens blasting.
“Another man’s life gone; and nothing will come out of it,” was what I said to myself. Moments later he walked through the door, this was the first time it happened. He was sweating profusely, vomiting, and shaking out of control, his eyes were dark and sunken, and he did not even look like the man I had been in love with for the past five years. He did not have to tell me anything, I already knew, his clothes had large splatters of blood on it. He started by telling me that he did not want to go to jail again, I was scared and I too started trembling, this could change our lives forever.
He had been in jail many times before on other misdemeanors, but he had never been charged for murder. How would I survive with our kids? I did not have a job and no other way to bring an income into the house to sustain myself and my two children. A high school drop out with no work experience, no family around, he was my world. Should I turn him in? This besieged me all night; I did not know what to do. But tomorrow would be a better day for sure, he was my breadwinner, his going to jail would be suffering for me and my children.
I calmed myself down after which I noticed that he had been stabbed, so I called him to the bathroom and cleaned his wounds, I told him that he had to be strong and to hold himself together; he needed to go to bed and relax. It was a night of terror that seemed to last for days, he was up cursing at nothing, telling invisible people to leave him alone. He was running in the corner of the room hiding, he told me to tell them to go away. He was seeing the person he had just shot in the flesh. I was scared for him, the spirits never bothered me, but he was constantly fighting with them.
A week passed and no police came to look for him, I even sent a friend of mine to the station to find out if he was wanted for anything. He was not even a suspect! I decided that I loved him and that I would keep his secret, so I was there for him whenever he needed to be held and be loved. That became the first of many other murders. I could be in the supermarket and get a call from him telling me that he needs me.
I now know when he has committed a murder, I can tell from the look on his face or I can hear it in his voice. So many mothers are crying because they have lost their sons, the streets are swelling with the blood of young black men; violence has become a way of life for many. Killing and dying is a part of life; I too pray that my sons do not fall in these streets; however, from where I live we cannot reach for the stars. I do not expect lawyers and CEOs. I just want them to live and grow-up!
Behind every good man, is a good woman; behind every notorious crime figure, well, there is a woman like me. Every day is a struggle, if I leave him, I will never be at peace; I hold this man’s darkest secrets, I too am scared for my life. My soul is as dark as his, bright and beautiful sunny days do not exist anymore. All I see is darkness, sadness and regrets about a life that could have been before I met him. My smile used to brighten up the room, my missing teeth has now become a constant reminder of years of abuse and neglect. I cannot speak; who is going to speak for me?
I do not have two and a half children, a white picket fence and the Belizean dream. I live day-to-day, hand-to-mouth, catch and kill. My children will not receive a “quality education”; they will receive what I can afford. My children go to school hungry at times, when it rains, we get wet inside our house! I hear on the news, from our leaders that poverty and crime are related. So then why do I see the politicians and their friends filling their pockets? Can you blame us on the outside looking for and wanting a piece of the pie? Even the crumbs will be appreciated.
Until our country looks after us, its poor, and the wealthy stop blaming us and not accepting responsibility for their role, the crime situation will not improve. I know that violence is not the answer, but the reality is that we too need to survive, just like you do.
Some weeks ago in the news there was a story about someone being shot in the middle of the day, people were everywhere; why is it that no witness came up to say anything. We are all poor people; our concerns include how we will get our rent paid and how we will eat. People die among us every day; it is a way of life. Give us a reason to break our silence
