“The seed of hate was planted in me when I was only eight,” Bashiri mumbled back to me avoiding eye contact. I could tell he was growing more and more frustrated with our therapy sessions. “Why do you feel that way Bashiri?” I asked attentively hoping that today was the day the breakthrough I had been praying for would occur. “I don’t want to talk about it white man!” Bashiri banged his fist so hard on my desk that the thump vibrated through my whole body. “Why are you here? What are you trying to prove? You have no idea the terrors I have seen in my life white man!” Bashiri looked at me with his dark piercing eyes. I prayed that he would not strike me. Somehow I managed to stay calm and responded, “I am sorry if I offended you in any way, I just want to help you. Look, why don’t we stop here for today and try again next week?” Bashiri grinned a devilish grin and left out of my humble office space not saying a word. I let out a big sigh of relief thanking God that Bashiri did not physically hurt me, but my joy quickly evaporated. I was frustrated with myself for failing once again to gain his confidence. I looked out of the window watching Bashiri’s every move. He walked with a cautious stride all the while constantly looking behind him as if he felt someone was pursuing him. I watched him until he vanished into a village hut. (copyright 2009 Nickia Johnson)
Let me know what you think?
Blessings NBJ
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