Cpl. Lacey, Daniel
August 5, 2100 -Eastern Border Near Cascada, Africa
Journal Entry #3
I have just returned from my meeting. Just yesterday, I met up with the team of resistance stationed here. The leader seemed to believe i was a reporter, probably because of all the pens and paper i carried with me. I did not have any room for a laptop in the small backpack I carried everywhere.
Without even asking, he told me their situation. He told me how so many were dying, and he told me that someone was executing civilians. Of course, I knew who was doing that, but he would kill me if he found out. Then he said something that really surprised me, he asked about where in South Africa I was from. I told him I was from Canada, and he and another tall man dragged me into a half shelled out apartment building. Here is what i can remember from our conversation:
Soldier- "Why are you here?"
Me- "To report on your situation for the people of Canada."
Soldier- "Bull! You Westerners don't give a damn about us over here! Not once have we seen any form of aid for us! Your leaders fuel our enemy, they give them food and fuel. I'm sure your leaders know what is actually done with that stuff, Cascada uses it to destroy us! We don't even have an army!"
Me- "I'll be sure to tell them the truth, and I'll tell the people too."
It was obvious he was frustrated, and he probably knew that I couldn't tell anyone the truth. The censorship laws were strictly enforced in Canada these days, Canada was always changing. The rights and freedoms of almost a hundred years ago have completely changed. With rage, he left the room cussing and knocking over a chair. He even called me names I refuse to write down here. He cannot stand us, the Westerners in general, I mean.
"What's his name?" I asked a guard, just before leaving the room.
"His name is Dumisa," he replied without emotion, "and I don't think you should ever some back here to see him again..."