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Monday, December 8, 2008

The Prayer of an Albino in Tanzania

With a contrite heart I come to You, O God. Your word tells me that I am inscribed on the palm of Your hand. That word gives me strength and confidence to stand before You and pour out my heart.

You know my predicament O God. I have no happiness anymore. Joy vanished from my life long time ago. Living in Tanzania has become a living hell to me and to my brothers and sisters.

O Mighty God, You say that You created all human beings in Your image and likeness. So if all human beings are in Your image and likeness then there’s no greater human being. Or is there? Why, then, are things so unfair here on earth?
Some people think that You, O God, put in me (hidden somewhere, I don’t know where) a magical charm. A charm that if accessed by people who need instant wealth, then zap! it is theirs (the wealth).

If it is really there, O God, why did You not put it in other people, too. Your word says that you are a fair God. Did You design that I should be hunted like an antelope and killed mercilessly so that people can “extract” that which they deem is in me (that they badly need to bid farewell to beggary)?

I know I look different from other people that You created, O God. My hair, my eyes, my skin are all different from those of other people. I look pale and every time I pass somewhere a dozen heads turn in my direction.

Walking in the sun is a challenging experience. My light skin is always on the receiving end of the “brutal” nature of the sun. My eyes, too, are affected by the sun’s rays. I have to squint as I chart my way around. I prefer staying at home to going out. But then, that can never always be the case as I have to fend for myself. So I have to go out.

As I go about my day to day business, I have learnt to look behind every now and then to try to determine if there is anyone who is following me. Or even to see if there are any curious looking people so that I can take off at the speed of light! The feeling in me at these times is akin to that felt by a bull that realizes it is being led to an abattoir.

God, please don’t smile as this is something that makes me wish that I were long dead.

The media reports the killings of my brothers and sisters in various parts of my country, Tanzania. They are hacked and slain mercilessly. This happens just so that the mutilators and murderers can get parts of their bodies.

O God, why do You let these people continue living. Strike them with lightning! Blot them from the face of the earth. We are suffering, O God.

I honestly don’t know how long I have before they also come for my head, legs and hands. I don’t know how long I have left before they hack me. I don’t know how long…

I dread that day. I dread the day I will hear the long and strident knock on my door. I dread the day I’ll see menacing-looking individuals wielding machetes and baying for my blood. Oh, I dread…!

O God, please save me from my neighbours. Please save me from the strangulating hands of a corrupt society.

O God, You are my only hope in these trying times. Please don’t turn Your eyes away from me.

The Legs of an Albino recovered at a Witchdoctor's

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