The human smiling machine who was having a thorough look at my passport really tried to make the mood even but nothing could make me at ease at that moment. Since she exagerated her smile, some part of me thought that maybe somehow my criminal record would be made to her notice at that time. A wave of relief passed through my whole body when I was approved. A deep sigh wrapped up the exercise after I was given a passboard.
As if all that wasn’t enough, my flight-mates and I had to wait for over forty minutes before it was time to enter the plane. At first I thought the plane had got a mechanical problem, and that being the reason for our delay—I only learnt later about the normality of that wait from my neighbor. My anxiety levels were reduced at his assurance and funny stories of his first experiences.
Well, here I am now, seated near the window—of course. Even before lifting, the picturesque is breathtaking. I can’t imagine how it will look like when the plane is suspended in air! Anyway, this is just the right environment to continue my story in. I don’t know why I feel I should complete it, even when that means risking my freedom. About such consequences as someone getting hold of this evidence: only God knows. But as far as I am alive, no one will ever be able to get hold of, and read, it!
I was so lucky my property was still intact in my tiny room in Katanga. The first thing I did was to wash away all the prison vileness off me before starting my quest. It had been a while since I’d last had a pure bath. As I poured the ice-cold water on my scaly skin, I had a moment with myself.—A moment in which the only bars I was behind was those of the rotten bathroom walls; a moment where my mind was clear, only knowing one truth—Rachael; a moment when it was only me, with a bag full of freedom.
Let me not bore you with bath stories—let me get back to my mission. As the cycle had been, hunting for Rachael comprised of trying her number a million times—she always turned off the call at the stating of my name, visiting her hostel—I was told she no longer lived there, and visiting the campus—the soils here seemed to be fertile. After hours, then days, of trying to trace her but in vain, I was able to meet a friend of hers.