“It is not safe for me to be here. It is not safe for you, and it is not safe for the children.” Kevin spoke solemnly. Doreen and Muwena both sat, weeping, with their backs against the wall. Kevin was crouched on the floor, in a manner that denoted respect for elders. The women cried softly, and sniffed. Doreen wiped her nose with a cloth that she withdrew from her pocket.
“You do not know how much you mean to us, otherwise you would not be leaving. We have no men in this house to support us, the children need you. But we understand if you must leave, it is not for us to judge. You came here and you were suffering from Facebook addiction. We did all we could to help you, but how could you know that we would come to rely upon you as much as you relied upon us in the beginning?”
With that, Muwena cried out in anguish, remembering both her departed husband and the thought of a gift, taken away so cruelly.
“I am sorry, but I must go. I appreciate how you cared for me and looked after me during my time of Facebook addiction, but the movement is carrying on and society is changing out there. Not even that, but the soldiers, remember the soldiers? What if they come back and search through your house, what then?“
“Don’t worry about the soldiers”, Doreen shot back.
Muwena continued “Everyone knows that many of the soldiers are suffering from Facebook addiction themselves, and that all this going around in the trucks is just a trick. They know they can do nothing to us, because if they attack then that will really be the end. The people are angry and they will attack the soldiers.”
Just as she spoke, the door was kicked in and man after man in army uniform streamed in, guns pointed at the man and the women sitting around them. Then through the doorway came a man who walked with an air of seniority and ownership.
“Kevin Simpson, you are under martial arrest for failing to report your Facebook addiction and for failing to claim compulsory citizen support for Facebook addicts. You will come with us.”
“No!” screamed Muwena. A soldier turned and hit her across the face with his rifle butt.
“Enough!” screamed Kevin, pushing the soldier back. He was met with a punch of one rifle butt, then another, and another, until he was lying on the floor, bleeding profusely. The soldiers picked him up and carried him out. The children, who had been playing elsewhere in the street quickly came running when they saw him being led out, but could not catch up with the trucks as they sped off. Kevin was gone.
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