NIGHT'S CHILDREN - by Mimi🥀🌬️

‎"Madam, give me the money!" the robber yelled aggressively from inside my mum's room.‎‎It was a cool Sunday evening after the usual weekend activities. Sundays are always a day of rest in our house. We had all retired to bed by 9 p.m.‎Of course, my sister and I weren't asleep. We were both on our phones. She eventually slept off around 10:30 p.m., while I stayed awake a little longer.‎‎By 11 p.m, I had also fallen asleep.‎‎Around midnight, we heard gunshots.‎‎Of course, nobody made a fuss about it. We were used to hearing them because of the vigilantes who patrolled the mini estate at night. Some carried guns, others machetes.‎‎Everyone knows midnight is when sleep is sweetest.‎‎I was fast asleep until I woke up to raised voices and aggression coming from my mum's room.‎‎I turned over, rubbing my eyes, and quickly woke my sister.‎‎She jerked up immediately.‎‎Together, we hurried towards my mum's room.‎‎The door was slightly ajar. ‎Then we saw them.‎Three armed men dressed in worn-out, tattered clothes.‎‎One of them was pointing a gun directly at my mum.‎‎"Madam, I say make you give me the money!" the one who appeared to be their leader demanded.‎‎His eyes were fierce, and I couldn't even bring myself to look directly into them.‎‎It's happening.‎ ‎It's happening to us.‎‎Right here.‎‎I whispered those words under my breath, almost hoping I was still dreaming.‎‎"Which money? You give me money to keep for you? I no get money!" my mum replied between heavy breaths.‎‎I stood there frozen, my lips trembling.‎‎My sister moved first.‎‎She rushed to my mum's side and held her tightly.‎‎I followed immediately.‎‎The two of us stood there, trying to calm her down even though we didn't know what to say or do.‎‎She was screaming. ‎Praying and shaking fearfully.‎At that moment, we thought we were the only family being robbed.‎‎When they realized my mum wasn't giving in to their demands, they started searching the entire house for money.‎‎Fortunately, the money has always been in the bank.‎‎Frustrated, they settled for valuables instead.‎‎They collected electronics, ATM cards, and anything they considered useful.‎‎Deep down, one thought kept running through my mind.‎‎What kind of hungry robbers are these?‎‎They looked so desperate and almost frustrated.‎‎A family friend who is a policewoman was contacted while everything was happening, but help didn't arrive on time.‎‎When they were finally done, they left.‎‎For a moment, it all felt like a dream.‎‎Until we stepped outside.‎‎That was when we realized it wasn't just our apartment.‎‎Almost everyone in the estate had been robbed.‎‎One woman, out of sheer fear, surrendered immediately.‎‎She handed over both her phones and all her ATM cards without hesitation.‎That's what fear can do. ‎There was no help.‎‎No clue where they came from.‎‎No idea where they disappeared to.‎‎At dawn, some of the tenants went to make an official report.‎Did I mention they took our phones too?‎‎Everyone's phone was gone............................................................‎This story is not just about the children of the night.‎‎It's about what they leave behind. ‎Fear.‎‎The kind that follows you after they're gone.‎‎The fear that creeps in every night when it's time to sleep.‎‎The fear of closing your eyes because your mind keeps asking,‎‎"What if they come back?"‎‎Some of us became trapped in that trauma.‎‎Till today, we barely sleep peacefully at night.‎‎FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN ‎I pray you never experience something like this.‎‎I wouldn't wish it on anyone. ‎The kidnappings, ‎the killings...‎‎The stories of families being attacked inside their own homes.‎‎Sometimes it is enough to make you feel numb... even exhausted by life itself you know.‎‎Yet, I still believe there is hope if the right actions are taken.‎‎I've thought about it countless times.‎‎The police are entrusted with protecting lives and ensuring public safety.‎‎But have we ever stopped to remember that they have families too?‎‎People who call them Dad.‎ ‎People who call them Mum.‎‎People who call them Aunts and Uncles.‎‎People who pray every day for them to return home alive.‎‎Sometimes they are afraid too.‎‎Just like the rest of us.‎‎But then, if we're all afraid...‎‎Who stands up against evil?‎How do we stop these perpetrators?‎‎Acting in self-defense is acceptable until it suddenly isn't in the eyes of the law.‎‎My life is being threatened, yet I risk imprisonment for defending it?‎‎What message does that send to the next person fighting to stay alive?‎‎Should fear be our only option?‎‎Are we expected to stand still while our loved ones are kidnapped, killed, or brutalized right before our eyes?‎‎Lately, justice feels unbalanced.‎‎The scales no longer seem equal.‎‎I speak up with the little voice I have, yet I'm threatened into silence.‎‎Where is freedom of speech if speaking certain truths could cost me my life? Hmm?‎‎Where is the right to life when innocent people, including children, are murdered every day and nothing seems to change?‎‎Let me out when the night's children are on patrol.‎‎Let me out when they are spreading terror.‎‎Let me out to breathe.‎‎Let me out to hope.‎‎Daylight...‎‎Please make peace with the night.‎‎I need your presence.‎‎Your absence strips me of my peace.‎‎Your absence steals my sense of safety.‎‎Your absence forces me to live in fear.‎‎I don't want to be a coward anymore.‎‎I don't want to keep looking over my shoulder while pretending to be brave. ‎I just want to exist freely.‎‎Is that too much to ask?‎

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