They say the calm before the storm is often louder than the storm itself.
I wore my composure like makeup flawless outside, fog inside.
The long awaited day had finally come.
For weeks, the billboards had been on fire, announcements flew like gossip, and the city was being swept like a bride's compound before a traditional wedding.
School corridors were noisy with renovations. Everyone from cleaners to the dean had something to do. The elites would be present. This was another gathering of the rich and poor under one roof.
Who would want to miss this moment?
Not even my grandma's old hat.
Mary and Ben?
They were preparing like the second coming of the Lord was happening live at the event.
They dragged me and my siblings to shop in one of the local markets. I'm always looking forward to going to the market, especially in the time of event. It gave me a sense of naturality.
Have I told you before?
I'm a lover of natural things. The market stalls, the craft crave by the craftsmen, the display of beautiful artwork and mostly the pottery area appeals me the most.
Across the street, I saw people pasting new posters and then one of the guests on that list caught my eye Dawn Bill.
My Dawn Bill. Wait!!
Am I mad?
The guests were meant to be hidden from us until the last moment. Now I know why.
I felt so nervous of performing in the crowds where dawn bill will be among the elite guests
POV: I'm terrified.
I'm the one presenting and the same man I once boldly gave my number to is among the guests.
How do I explain this triangle of foolishness?
Ben and Mary:
You're currently like cheese in a trap.
The day arrived.
Different elites showed up like peacocks of the east.
I was relieved I didn't see Dawn Bill not immediately, at least.
Cultural displays, Dance, Chants, Drama were displayed give life to the ceremony.
Then came the moment I dreaded and dreamed of the most
My speech my belly did a backflip I was instantly sick.
POV: What do you do when the biggest stage of your life is lit, and your past is sitting in the crowd?
Ben adjusted my collar before I walked up.
You don't look like someone about to make history, he teased.
Mary fixed my hair like a mother hen.
Smile, Luna. Or I'll slap joy into you, Mrs. Dawn, she whispered, laughing. I chuckled, barely.
But my heart wasn't really in it.
The auditorium was full, lecturers, board members, Parents, even the media.
POV: Hope is a dangerous thing.
It enters your chest like fresh air and leaves it like poison.
I walked up the stage, my heels felt like bricks I gripped the podium.
And I began.
Power is...
Dawn Bill stepped in wearing a black dress with a black sunglasses which I can see his cold eyeballs through the tint.
My heart skips for a moment.
Power is not just in politics or positions.
It's in my presence.
In the woman who dares to speak, even when her voice shakes.
In the poor man who rises every day to feed a dream.
In the child who questions.
In the parent who listens.
Power is not noise.
It is not fear.
It is the gentle thunder of those who refuse to stay small.
But the elites they've abused it to the core.
Power is now their inheritance, passed down by unknown ancestors of greed.
They squeeze the tiniest breath left in the poor until nothing remains.
And let's not pretend we don't see them
families like the Bills.
Yes, I said it.
They walk into our schools with cheque books,
into hospitals with photographers,
into our lives with invisible strings.
Their donations look like help
But they are tools of control.
They don't lift us. They lock us.
While we eat dreams, they dine on privilege.
While we speak hope,
they silence us with soft threats and loud money.
Power is not in inheritance.
Power is in conviction.
The elites are the dark horses of a dirty chess game.
And the people?
Just pawns unless we flip the board.
I call for coalition.
Arise.
Let the spirit of our ridiculed heroes rise again.
Let us be the flag bearers of our future.
This system respects only one thing:
Force with direction.
Not chaos but conviction.
We move smart.
We move as one.
And we push.
As my professor always says;
There is no freedom without struggle.
They told us to be patient.
We were.
They told us to pray.
We did.
Now?
We're done kneeling.
We are no longer asking.
We are no longer waiting.
We are the sword that may never swing
But we are the one he holds.
Wake up, coalition.
Wake up the dreamers.
Let the sound of revolution ring through
every corner Until the dead hears it.
Let the spirits rise and question the echo they feel.
Wake up the spirit of freedom.
Be the small axe that cuts down the tree.
When I finished, the hall was cold and chilled.
Ben gave me a look that gave me goosebumps.
Mary was terrified.
And just before I stepped down
I saw him, Dawn Bill Watching not clapping just watching.
POV: I don't know if he came for me.
But I know I wasn't invisible anymore.
After the ceremony, I escaped to the back garden,I needed air, Space, Silence.
I heard someone stepping inside the garden.
You speak well, he said, standing beside the roses.
They heard you. We heard you.
Were you afraid of touching the lion's tail? Or weren't you referring to us? He laughed lightly.
I didn't reply.
I was too busy trying to slow my heartbeat.
Luna Evans he whispered.
You've done the unimaginable again.
I see your courage and misfortune are twins born on the same day.
He clapped once soft but sharp.
Then he left again.
No comment on our last meeting.
Just like a storm came started.