My Albino Lover- by Ada Aham
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| Model Shaun Ross the first international model with Albinism |
Today Azania Bank, through Positive Thinkers Association and Tanzania Albino Society, has decided to offer part of its profit and help our brothers with albinism. This being our responsibility to plow back part of our profit to the communitySOURCE: AllAfrica.com
For those who went before him, for those who will come after.
I sigh and ponder, in a dreamlike state, our journey through this path, yes the path we all must take.
Maybe it is much more than a path, a road with several crossroads.
What informs our choice, the decision, on which turn of the road to take, or our confidence where the road will lead.....
In parts of East Africa, people with Albinism are not only discriminated against but often killed and their body parts are used for rituals. A dastardly act, that must not be allowed to continue. While the government has stepped in with laws to discourage this, folks in rural regions still practice these cruel and cowardly acts.
I lay in this dream-like state for minutes, I thought, but it must have been hours, my eyes squinting from the glare as the sunset in the horizon, its subdued drowsy rays filtering through my bedroom window, dancing like a young maiden in search of her prince on my bare floor.
I sighed again, it was not a sigh of listlessness, but a sigh of acceptance.
We were supposed to be married today, I allowed my mind to playback the events of that day.
It was a cool September evening, twilight was nigh, as a graceful sun downed......
I heard the screams, the shrilling cry of one in great fear.
A cold chill ran down my spine, and my blood curdled in my veins.....
The Path was damp from an earlier shower, by ankles getting moist from the wet blades of the grass, as I walked through the bush path quickening my pace. Praying for his safety, but fearing the worst. Then I saw him, lying there in a pool of his own blood. His peroxide blond skin bore crimson blotches, scratches, wounds from the filthy, greedy hands of the marauders, heartless gold miners, and fishermen in the Lake Victoria zone.
His pink eyes had a reptilian stare as he writhed in pain. In a world of mahogany and ebony-skinned people, he was seen as an oddity, a freak of nature, some have called him. A group who have marinated and glowed in ignorance for too long.
Rajabu was born an albino, in Sukumaland (Mwanza) in the Lake Victoria zone, Tanzania. What he lacked in skin pigmentation, to fit in with the majority, he made up for in a heart of gold.
Rajabu is the kindest human being I know. A heart was full of love and generosity for all mankind and nature.
My heart stopped beating for a nanosecond, as I let go of my emotions, and a flood of tears burst through, like a broken dam.
He tried to raise his left hand, to beckon to me, but he was too weak, as he had lost so much blood. Then I saw it, the gruesome damage to this beautiful man. His right arm and right leg had been severed, and he was left for dead.
My beautiful Rajabu, has become a victim of the burgeoning trade in albino body parts.
Albinos, suffer from a lack of skin pigmentation and are believed by witch doctors to hold magical powers which makes their body parts valuable for use in medicine.
A severed arm or leg from an albino can cost about £1000, and while the law has changed to punish those involved in the attacks with the death penalty, the risk is still so great that many albino children live as refugees to ensure their safety.
As I called for help, convulsing with anguish and the dread of him dying in my arms. My mind played back his cry of agony, a chilling howl that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I sighed again, it was not a sigh of listlessness, but a sigh of acceptance.
We were supposed to be married today, I allowed my mind to playback the events of that day.
It was a cool September evening, twilight was nigh, as a graceful sun downed......
I heard the screams, the shrilling cry of one in great fear.
A cold chill ran down my spine, and my blood curdled in my veins.....
The Path was damp from an earlier shower, by ankles getting moist from the wet blades of the grass, as I walked through the bush path quickening my pace. Praying for his safety, but fearing the worst. Then I saw him, lying there in a pool of his own blood. His peroxide blond skin bore crimson blotches, scratches, wounds from the filthy, greedy hands of the marauders, heartless gold miners, and fishermen in the Lake Victoria zone.
His pink eyes had a reptilian stare as he writhed in pain. In a world of mahogany and ebony-skinned people, he was seen as an oddity, a freak of nature, some have called him. A group who have marinated and glowed in ignorance for too long.
Rajabu was born an albino, in Sukumaland (Mwanza) in the Lake Victoria zone, Tanzania. What he lacked in skin pigmentation, to fit in with the majority, he made up for in a heart of gold.
Rajabu is the kindest human being I know. A heart was full of love and generosity for all mankind and nature.
My heart stopped beating for a nanosecond, as I let go of my emotions, and a flood of tears burst through, like a broken dam.
He tried to raise his left hand, to beckon to me, but he was too weak, as he had lost so much blood. Then I saw it, the gruesome damage to this beautiful man. His right arm and right leg had been severed, and he was left for dead.
My beautiful Rajabu, has become a victim of the burgeoning trade in albino body parts.
Albinos, suffer from a lack of skin pigmentation and are believed by witch doctors to hold magical powers which makes their body parts valuable for use in medicine.
A severed arm or leg from an albino can cost about £1000, and while the law has changed to punish those involved in the attacks with the death penalty, the risk is still so great that many albino children live as refugees to ensure their safety.
As I called for help, convulsing with anguish and the dread of him dying in my arms. My mind played back his cry of agony, a chilling howl that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
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