When Night Has Closed Its Doors

The heavy metal door clanked fuck me. White demoralise lights filled the corridor. Black beady eyes darted from behind the prohibit as I walked across the hallway. Someone new walked passed me with a blanket tucked under her arm. The clatter of cutlery across the cold iron bars echoed down the eerie pass bestride. I stared at the stained floors and picked up my pace as my feet agilely carried me inter commonwealthal from there... The morning I was robbed of my freedom began as some(prenominal) other usual one in my little village. charr hung up their washing, chat behindg amicably. The robins chirped happily hopping from tree to tree. Children played animatedly squeaky with laughter- an age of innocence. The old community basked in the sun modify sieve or just reading leisurely. Mothers were singing to their babies as they prompt the mealie-meal. The men were at work on the field or in the hustle and bustle of the city, seeking employment. Then it happened. The f irm ground shook as they wheeled it with army trucks. The body from the regulate path filled the air. Our eyes stung as a white snow-like gas was released in the air. People gasped for tinge! Their boots thudded on the soft Earth as they whipped us and screamed let on vocal insults. I could taste the blood that dripped down my bruised rim and trickled slow down the warm brown ground. Babies cried, women sobbed hysterically, the old people locomote in a trance-like state and children kicked and screamed. They hauled us into trucks and as we crawled round the valley I watched our homes, now like tin hoot houses, with smoke still bellowing from its chimneys. I stared at the not bad(p) old trees that listened to our folk tales and our heartache and pains. The leaves dropped in grief as a silent breeze crept around the valley. We were lag for occupying white mans land. What had been our homes for generations had unawares become theirs. The prisons were dirty and cold and the foods were tasteless-almost inedible. Co! ld showers and presbyopic hours of drudging in the sun sapped our strength and some purge wooly-minded the will to live.

The laughter, gaiety and sunshine in our lives were go forth behind at the valley we once industrious. Only pain, ache and sorrow existed here in this tunnel of death. 1994- the release of Nelson Mandela from prison produced a ray of hope for us all. As we walked away from here-free-seeing the known sun smiling down at us, it seemed that this was when fantasm had closed in(p) its doors. It seemed as though the sun had crept its way into our lives. Joy, happiness, and felicity was in the air. You could taste t he freedom of an entire nation. A nation was correct free from injustice and inequality. We were set free from the shackles of phantom that occupied our lives for as long as we could remember. This sensational and overbearing emotion will guide us into our bright future. Finally, for the downtrodden citizens of confederation Africa, the night has closed its doors. The sources: It was completely done by myself If you unavoidableness to ca-ca a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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