Tell My Son To Hold Unto His Gun

u see today we have so much work to do, so it will be a waste of time for both of us to walk that distance and back. So you go and bring the food while I go on weeding. By the time you return,

age, and move forward. I smiled in self-satisfaction, nodding my head in total agreement with my father's words of encouragement. I took my gun and left for the village. For the first time, I was alone on the way. A long, loud roll of thunder broke the stillness of the afternoon, re-echoed among the low hills, but it did not rain, and it did not scare me. Several cottages were scattered throughout the forest inhabited by janitors and their families of the cocoa farmers but they were to far apart from each other, when I got to the village, neither the janitor nor his wife were around, but food was ready in the kitchen as usual. So I picked it up, made a quick turn, and hurried along the path back to our farm to continue weeding and to join my father in completing the task. My father was right. The sun was right in the centre of the sky, so it was time for lunch. Excitement welled up inside me for making a successful trip to and from the village alone. Unfortunately, my father was not there. His gun and cutlass were in the hut, which meant he was on break, so I placed the food in the hut and continued weeding. After a while, I looked up. The sun had mov