Hello all, I hope you have been well and I wish I could say the same for myself. I am refraining from being pessimistic in this moment but as it stands I do not feel too good. This has nothing to do with my health or the health of anyone in my family. Although we're all physically well, what happened left me shocked and unable to process everything. Due to the sensitivity of this subject I won’t object if the mods deem it safer for the community to lock this post.
Opening her eyes and then staring into mine, she eased into herself and said “Your aunt told me you were wondering what happened to my sons.” I nodded, mentioning what she said about how her sons had experienced some hardships recently. She looked away and nodded. With a slight smile she looked at me and said “She also said you had your own opinions on the genocide.”
At that point I realized my aunt had communicated my skepticism to her. “I have my own opinion but I would like to hear what you have to tell me if you don't mind.” Still staring at me, she asked, “What do you think happened to them?”
I told her that my assumptions were as follows: the son posted something online that they shouldn’t have, they got detained and were let go within the same month. After taking a sip of tea, the woman looked upwards for a moment and said “I would like you to listen to my story before passing judgement.”
A frown appeared on her face and she swallowed, trying her best to hold back tears. I refilled her tea cup and she nodded, thanking me. With both hands she turned the cup clockwise and then anticlockwise. With her gaze focused on the cup, she began to speak again.
“About a year ago they took my son and imprisoned him. Three men in police uniform came to the door and asked me ‘Where is (son’s name)?’ When I couldn’t answer, they let themselves in and searched my apartment, asking repeatedly where he was. I still couldn’t answer. They went upstairs, found (son’s name), and proceeded to pull him out of his room. He was in a state of panic but from his perspective he saw me with the men and so he cursed me and accused me of bringing them here. I couldn’t deny it. I think he still blames me to this day.”
A tear fell from her eye and left a mark next to her tea cup. I could see she was reliving this story as she was telling it. I wondered how many times she's put herself through this. Was that the first time she recollected these repressed memories or was it a daily routine for her? I felt a deep pain in my chest and swallowed back tears.
This is the funniest comment I've read in months!