Jail isn’t an unfamiliar place to him. The metal slab they pass off as a bed greets him on every visit, the walls creak in welcome and the clang of bars slamming shut seal his fate time and time again. But circumstances are different this time. It wasn’t some petty crime a child would commit, or a money fraud scandal big business usually executes. It certainly wasn’t the usual slap on the wrist penance either. No, this time was different.

Growing up in the middle of an endless civil war causes one to do what is necessary for life. Jaheem Boro learned the hard way. The repressive military government in this African country took no shame in performing heinous acts if it would instill fear into their people. Continual violence and murders by this regime caused great uneasiness and cowardice among the natives. Only those idiotic enough stood up to the dominant power; rebels fighting for freedom. As the fighting wore on, Jaheem felt he had to defend his honor and integrity. A true man didn’t bow down, hide under the covers and hope the problem would go away. No, Jaheem wanted to take action and protect his people. The life of a rebel promised only one thing: there were no guarantees. Any jab at the government was another brick torn down from their armor. Stealing, violence, and destruction of property were among a myriad of other crimes Jaheem undertook in his early years as a rebel. Incarcerations were routine, and soon the guards recognized the scrawny dark skinned man as a returning offender. A wife and child soon were added to the list of those he swore to defend. Marriage was a necessity if his name was to carry on, but Jaheem did in fact love his wife. Long nights were spent together until the daylight would call him to work. Although he loved his family, the greater cause called to him with a deep yearning. He couldn’t leave behind his past in order to settle down for a mundane life of cowering in front of those he despised. That decision would cost him everything.

A strike against the tyrants was made with Jaheem at the hull. Buildings, vehicles and people blown apart in hazardous piles covered the landscape of the already broken town. This did nothing to the impenetrable government. Such a massacre was only a blip on their radar. However, it was a superb time to make an example of these rebels. Of course they found Jaheem to be the brains behind the operation, and arrested him once again. One would think he’d be fearful, clammy of hands and face, contemplating his sentence but, of these he was none. It was standard procedure after such success and in due time he would be free as always. He returned to his cell, welcomed by the familiar commodities given in prison. What he didn’t realize was that this time it would be a different outcome for him.

Jostled from slumber, Jaheem was dragged into the town square where all of the villagers seemed to be waiting. Armed guards surrounded the whole event, keeping a watchful eye on the prisoner and the people. Situated in front of the crowd he stood, his head held high with arrogance in his stance. That is until the crowd parted for soldiers gripping the arms of two unrecognizable people who were bound and gagged with crude rope. His indifference to the event faltered when he caught their eyes. Eyes he had gazed into thousands of times, the eyes he saw open for the very first time, eyes that looked at him with such love it would melt any heart. Jaheem thrashed against his restraints and guards to no avail. Nothing could stop what would happen next. The guards threw the people onto the ground in front of him, both in obvious discomfort in being jostled around like ragdolls. One of the soldiers announced that this would happen to anyone who tried to rise up against the government again, and without a second thought pulled the gun from his waist and opened fire on the two huddled in the dirt. Two piercing blasts and two thuds was all it took to end someone’s world. Silence hung in the air as stunned onlookers stomached the scene. Eyes went wide and tears streamed down faces like they were water from a faucet. Jaheem wailed for his fallen family. Guilt and sorrow bubbled up into gurgling screams until hands closed around his arms and mouth and hauled him back to prison.

It wasn’t a welcoming cell anymore. Gone were the familiar creak of the walls and reassurance of knowing he had done something heroic and brave. Grief flooded Jaheem as he sobbed into the metal slab they called a bed. Pain and anger drained his body of energy until he slumped into the fetal position. This time was different. There was no going back. The price a rebel paid was the promise that there were no guarantees for anything.