WORDS TO LIVE OR DIE BY

BY CHRISTOPHER TOILKIEN

A very pretty eight year old African girl stood in the shade of a small tree. A colorful printed shift covered her slim body down to her ankles and leather thongs on her feet. A rolled up gray blanket loosely wrapped itself around her diagonally from right to left. She was holding an empty plastic five litre jug at the side of the main road leading from the capital towards the area of the current insurgency.

A pair of little six year old girls, dressed in plainer shifts with bare feet stood holding hands just behind her right side.

Mavi and her younger twin sisters Rheon and Jelani had once been well loved and well looked after children of a schools headmaster. But now were unwanted outcast waifs on the edge of starvation.

The insurgents had swept into the provincial capital. Then making it their base of operations, for the eventual drive on the capital. Nightly air strikes by the still loyal parts of their countries air forces, destroyed many of the cities structures large enough to act as barracks, for the revolutionary’s troops. In hopes of killing large numbers of them, in one blow.

Their school and their home beside it had been one of the targets. Their African born, but French educated parents had fled towards the capital When the darker skinned locals had began persecuting those who’s ancestors had intermarried with European colonial’s.

Their parents both came from families that had intermarried with the French who had controlled the country since the early eighteen hundreds. Their daughters, all born on trips back to France, inheriting the lighter dusky skin, and European facial features known to the French as "Creole".

They had ended up in a refugee camp in a threadbare tent with a dirt floor. Their parents had set up a school for the camps children. In order to teach them basic reading and writing. In exchange for enough food and water to live on.

But deserting soldiers from both sides had gravitated to the camp in search of a hideout and free living. Forming an unwanted camp “Protection” force who soon lorded over the predominantly middleclass camps inhabitants. Extorting protection money, both from those attempting to provide the bare necessities of life, to their fellow refugees. And from the humanitarian aid workers, just now trickling into the region.

Their mother, never in the best of health, wasted away in the dry dusty camp. Dieing in her sleep, only a month after their arrival. Their father seemed to go a little mad after that. Openly opposing the worst of the armed gang’s excesses and becoming spokesman for the rest.

He had organized a party of the healthiest men into making a two day trek to the nearest relief food depot just last week. Upon their return he was just unpacking the heavy knapsack full of supplies when the leader of the gunmen and a few of his cronies barged into their tent. Demanding a lions share of the food.

When their father had refused they simply dragged him outside. The gang leader then fired two bullets into his stomach. Leaving him to bleed to death in the Mavi’s arms, while his men took all the food.

“If you want to continue to live here.” The leader informed the terrified girl at his feet. “You can ensure your survival as my latest wife.”

That night a few of the other men helped her bury her father beside her mother in a long line of graves, just outside the camp. They had given her a jug half full of water and a small white metal cooking pot. But without an adult male’s protection, she knew they were not longer safe in the camp. Hers, and her sisters virginity the price, she was not willing to pay, just yet.

They had been living under the tree beside the road, ever since, huddling together under the blanket at night. Mavi had just slipped a bag of cornmeal into the blanket wrapped around her body just before the gunmen had entered the tent. But it was running out and water was becoming harder to obtain.

It was noon, by the sun directly overhead and they had had no luck, so far today. The road was busy with large military looking traffic. Soldiers heading to the front, had no time or thoughts for anyone else.

A dusty sand colored vehicle, leading another convoy had just rolled past. When it suddenly swerved off the road and a light skinned man in none descript sweat streaked camo got out of the passenger side and walked back towards them.

Mavi kept her eyes respectfully lowered as the man approached, holding out the empty water jug.

The light skinned man spoke, but she did not understand his language. He tried another, but it too was unknown to her.

“What to you need, pretty one?” Came in French.

“Water, please.” She replied.

“Why are you three alone out her outside the refugee camp?” He inquired.

“Our parents are dead and the camp is no longer safe for us.” She replied.

“There is food and water for you in my vehicle.” He promised her.

“I will not leave my younger sisters to die here without me.” She replied.

“Then bring them along.” He said and turned to walk away.

Just then the driver of the vehicle strode up. He too wore nondescript military style clothing with gun harness and pouches.

An angry look broke out on his face, as he pointed at the girls, and then gestured towards the refugee camp. He was from the same people who had driven her parents out. Inland tribes, who had had little interaction with the French colonials. Deeply resenting those who had, and therefore continued to govern after they had left.

The European man harshly replied in the same in untenable language. Pointing towards the lead convoy vehicle both came out of.

Obviously swearing, the African male drew his pistol, aiming for Mavi, who stood their terrified looking down the barrel of his gun.

But just then, the first man drew his own gun and shot the other in the head.

He then turned yelling at the drivers of the trucks stopped behind his. They jumped immediately out, warily eying the man who had killed the other. Standing there, with his still smoking pistol in his hand, watching their every move. The drivers stripped the body of the dead man and then rolling his nude body into the roadside ditch.

Without another word, the lighter skinned man then herded trembling Mavi and her now crying sisters towards the rear of his vehicle. First opening the rear lower horizontal door then the upper one. The dim interior was full of boxes and other things, but there was a little space in the center, It was still too high for even Mavi to climb in. But she reached down and lifted her little twin sisters in. Easing their fears with a few soft reassuring words, even though she had none for herself.

There savior walked directly up to Mavi and said in French. "Everything and everyone has a price."

Mavi felt the relentless sun beating down, as the dust from a passing vehicle settled around them. Outside a brutal world simply did not care if she and her two sisters lived or died.

"Our continued wellbeing is mine." She informed him.

The man smiled as he bent forward, effortlessly lifted Mavi in. Left arm around her back with his hand covering her small breast. His right moved up her right leg. Bundling up her shift as he lifted her until it exposed her feminine cleft. The fingers of his left hand caressing her sex lips.

It was obvious both were complying with the unspoken details of their agreement.

Letting her go, he flipped open the white lid of a blue plastic oblong box. Handing her a one litre plastic bottle of water and watched as she opened it. Mavi first sharing it with her sisters, before taking any herself.

He then opened a haversack on the other side, handing out three ration bars. Mavi had seen enough of these lately and gave one each to her wide eyed sibling after tearing it open.

“Everything and everyone has a price.” The man again noted to Mavi as he closed the back of his vehicle up.

A few minutes later the vehicle started up and drove off. The new passengers soon drifting off to sleep huddled together in the back.

“Everything and everyone has a price.” Mavi thought just before she drifted off. “Words to live the rest of my life by.”