On one sunny, Saturday afternoon, Tony Ruranga sat on his favorite chair admiring his latest and final news article before he got married to his stunningly beautiful fiancée, Adeline. But sadly, he hadn’t had time to plan his wedding; he left all the work to his eager mother.
In Uganda, the world of news moved fast, and he had to move with it or risk losing his job. Tony had recently picked an interest in writing about the political race. Although he never made it clear which party he supported, anyone could tell Tony was against the ruling party. Each news article he wrote boldly exposed the gruesome acts of the government. He always had eye-catching photographs of injustice. Whoever read his articles was convinced the president had hired people to deal with all resistors mercilessly.
Tony’s recent article had been “The Endless Quest for Freedom” which exposed a few government conspiracies like bribing and threatening candidates out of the race. David Ssempa the latest victim had been one of the leading opposers. Then one day he announced he would be moving to the government’s party because he had “seen the light.” After years and years of fighting for freedom, he had finally given up. He now laughed and dined with a person who he had called a thief, an embezzler, and a Scrooge. Tony ended, ‘Hate to discourage my fellow Ugandans but however you take it bitter, sweet, or plain truth, no matter how many of us decide to vote for another president, until the president decides to step down, he’ll always have a way of winning!’
This article attracted immense responses from the community and letters were piling up. Promising to read every single article coming in was one of the reasons Tony acquired his job but he already regretted it.
Then suddenly, he heard the loud, annoying phone ring and he awoke. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. He found himself half way off his chair. He sat up with his eyes shut, gave himself a quick stretch and answered the phone.
‘Hello, Tony speaking how may I help you?’ He said warmly.
‘This is Joel.’
‘Oh yes, I remember. You said we’d meet soon.’
‘Ten minutes, at Endiros café across the street.’
Tony was a bit shocked by the way he spoke but that was Joel. The first time he had called, he told him people were following him, and his life was in danger. As much as Tony didn’t want to believe him, he couldn’t completely ignore the man. He spoke quickly and shakily, occasionally stammering it was hard to assume the facts of this Joel Kasirye were entire fiction.
‘Hmmm, okay I’ll be there.’
*
The moment Tony stepped out of his office, the cold devoured him. He could hardly see his way. Fortunately, the one, broken streetlight guided him as he walked sleepily to the café. Tony sat alone at a carefully picked back table. He wanted to make sure he caught sight of everyone who walked in. But he lost interest in watching the door the moment his meal arrived. The vanilla-like aroma of the coffee intoxicated him. He hurriedly sipped it and nibbled on his freshly baked bread. He didn’t seem to care whether the hot coffee burnt his throat, or if bread crumbs fell on his clothes. Totally engrossed in his meal; he didn’t notice Joel Kasirye until he stood in front of him.
Joel had short, black, African hair. His face was round, and skin chocolate brown. Although he gave a warm, white, whimsical smile, his tired eyes revealed his lack of sleep. His tight black woolen sweater revealed his desirable muscular figure. One Tony was jealous of; he immediately made a mental note to add working out to his list of New Year’s resolutions.
‘Hi Tony,’
‘Hi, how are you Joel?’
‘Yeah feels great to meet finally “Uganda’s best journalist.” Joel said with a hint of sarcasm in his deep, husky voice. All the fear he’d had earlier on the phone seemed to have disappeared.
‘Ha-ha. Well that’s not yet true, but I’m getting there by God’s grace.’
‘Let’s get to business.’
‘Yes, you didn’t tell me much on the phone.’
‘First of all, you’re being followed.’
‘By who?’
‘This isn’t going to work if you keep on interrupting me.’
‘Okay, I’ll shut up.’
‘I’m been working with a secret organization. We’re the kind of guys you would call when you suspect someone of spying, if you think you’re being followed or if you need to tail someone.’
Tony lost interest in his meal and pushed it aside. His curiosity began to grow.
‘Last week when you wrote your article, we received a call. This time, it was a guy from the government. He said they had trouble with a reporter who was stirring up future rebellions. He asked us to follow you for a few days and do something we’ve only done once.’
‘What? What did he tell you to do?’
‘He said he wanted you disposed of.’
‘Please, tell me you’re not doing it?’
‘We aren’t hit men. We do whatever our customers ask apart from murder. We’ll hire someone.’
Tony froze. ‘Are you serious?’
‘On Monday a building contractor entered your office, remember?’
‘Yes, he did a good job with the ventilators.’
‘Well, that was one of our guys. We dressed him up and gave him a couple of listening devices and cameras. He entered your office, planted them all.’
‘But the air smells clearer.’
‘We couldn’t have sent him in without any training. Our guys also bugged your room, phone, and car, be careful, whatever you say’s recorded. Anyway I let you know because I hate the government though I work for them. Two years ago the government hired me to kill my brother. I had to do it because business was business and so is this. I’m sorry bro, I really am!’
Tony lay in his bed, his eyes wide open, and wondered whether he should tell his fiancée or his mum or any of his friends. At this point, he didn’t know who to trust. If what Joel said was true, if he tried to tell them, they’d be listening. He tossed and spun, soaking his pillow with sweat and made up his mind to flee the next day. Tony had always told himself he wasn’t afraid of anything. He was a strong believer in freedom of press and he assumed as the community loved his articles; they would always back him up. But seriously hit men? What could ordinary, armless, and passive men and women do to vicious, heartless, professionals who were hunting him down for money? When would they decide they’d watched him enough to strike?
Tony realized all he had studied, built, and conceived these thirty years of his life would crumble with a single bullet. He was not going to be murdered without anyone knowing the truth. He didn’t care if Joel’s men listened in. But then an idea struck him. He could use a pay phone. He stealthily walked to the nearest payphone and went to call the most intelligent person he knew, his fiancée.
‘Adeline, it’s me.’
‘Tony, what’s wrong.’
‘My life is in danger.’ Tony told Adeline all he knew and hoped she’d believe.
‘Tony, I believe you.’ She said, equally shaken. ‘We’ll meet for breakfast tomorrow seven thirty. Everything will be alright my love. Just stay calm. Goodnight.’
‘Love you.’ and he ended the call.
*
Two blocks away from Tony’s apartment, tempers were flying. Unknown to Tony all nearby payphones had been bugged.
‘How did he know?’ Joel asked.
They all wondered what to do until one of them suggested to call their client.
‘Hi, Daniel?’
‘It’s me. Hope all’s okay over there.’
‘Well, sir we have a problem. Tony found out we’re after him. He made a call a few minutes ago to his fiancée told her everything. They’re meeting for breakfast tomorrow.’
Daniel was enraged. ‘I thought you were professionals. Anyway, make sure he doesn’t make it to that breakfast.’
‘Yes sir, we’ll have our sniper there in ten minutes.’
‘Do it, now!’
Eleven minutes later, a sniper was positioned on the rooftop a block away.
Tony was frustrated. He simply couldn’t sleep. He turned on the light making it easier for the sniper to aim and stared at his bible, begging God to protect him.
‘Should I fire?’ the sniper asked.
Joel had paused for a breath before he ordered the death of a man he’d merely met. Joel knew it wasn’t right. He heard voices telling him to stop.
‘Yes, fire.’
With those two words, and one bullet Tony was lifeless. For the first and last time in his life, Tony felt death. And for the second but not last time, Joel felt regret. He shed a few tears then he remembered the words of his dying brother. ‘Only the strong survive.’
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