THE COMMUNITY

“I said I didn’t break the TV, Awura did!” I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“You are the eldest! You will take responsibility for any wrongdoing in this household,” he retorted angrily. He ordered me to go to my room and think about what I had done wrong – not preventing my brother from destroying the brand-new TV he had bought last month.

With one deep breath, I calmed myself, used my sleeve to wipe my runny nose and teary eyes, then marched upstairs to my room. I knew what to do, I knew the routine - get to my room, pass my hand over my nearly-bald head, and wish things were different.

Planting myself on my bed, I found myself lost in thought. I saw no need to cry – it was just my punishment for breaking a law of the Community.

The Community. The group of people I was supposed to call my family - yes, supposed. It was a law. There were these rules -they called it the Constitution – that kept everyone in line. What I had just gone through was one of the least punishments for going against its regulations.

I had dreams. Lovely ones. Of a place just like the Community – only freer. It was beautiful. I could braid my hair if I wanted to. It was not a law to shave my lovely curly hair. I could attend a party like the ones in the books I sneaked to read. I could choose to not call the others “family”.

Yet, there was a nightmare to this dream. I saw havoc, accidents, and protests. It felt too real at times. There was one dream in particular – one just like a movie.

It had a perfect balance between a wish and a nightmare, law, and order. I started having it when I read a book I saw in the school library. It spoke of a nation whose people were free yet enslaved, to rules that lingered in the shadows - ones that affected the weak but empowered the mighty.

A vast majority did not complain of its system – they too had their constitution.

I smiled as I remembered, easing myself into a more comfortable position.

I thought of the pictures in the book of happy citizens, celebrating what they called Independence Day.

The Community had no such thing. We did not celebrate. No one complained. I did not know the day of my birth like the girls in the books. Who would dare throw a party or even bake a cake like they did? In this community? No way.

I remembered the look in my father’s eyes - that silent fury. His grandfather was one of the people who had put together the Constitution. I, being of his lineage, was supposed to obey, if not anything else. I was supposed to be the perfect example and uphold the law!

I did the exact opposite.

The laws made no sense to me. I had read the books. I had seen snippets of current affairs in the newspapers. Not everywhere was like the Community. Not everyone lived like this.

Of course, they too had their rules; some were every bit as questionable. Some people cared and some did not. Those that rebelled just like me were punished.

Whenever I walked through its streets, I was regarded as a rebel - one looked upon in awe. I did not always follow. I was the exception.

It reminded me of a boy I read about. He was called Robin Hood. He stole from the rich to give to the poor. That was fair, wasn’t it? The rich would have misused their wealth either way!

I reached for my pillow and gave it a tight hug. It was one of the things I did when no one who could punish me was around. I'd read of how this was a way to show affection.

Pillow had been my fortress of solitude whenever I slept or cried silently after a punishment. It deserved a hug.

I checked to see if I had left my door open. If Dad saw me hug Pillow, he would find another absurd punishment for me. I sighed in relief to see it was locked.

I released Pillow from my warm embrace and lay on my back, facing the ceiling.

Would I be able to change their minds one day? Change the Community? I could rewrite the Constitution - change the one my great-grandfather helped to make.

But would they listen? They were used to this - this appalling way of life.

I forced my eyes shut and tried to fall asleep. I wanted to travel to the movie, the one with the angel’s curve of law and justice.

“One day, I will change the Community. No more injustice,” I said aloud, the pictures already taking the hand of my mind.

My mind lingered. I found myself yawning minutes later.

“No....injustice,” I muttered sleepily, holding on to the picture’s grasp.