“Eric. ‘YOU READY’!”

His father yelled, as if he was yelling for his life.

“Almost, give me a minute.”

Eric scoured through his shelf of new books, he asked his father to buy for him.

“Found, song of the cell, found the song of ice and fire series,...ahh shit, where’s that book about the civil war.”

He began searching through the bookshelf faster to avoid hearing his father’s yelling again. And finally he found the inspirational book he heard so much about, from his history teacher.

“Finally found it.” He stared at the book with curiosity.

“A long walk to water.” The words escaped his mouth as if he had been possessed for just a single second.

“Eric, what’s taking you so long”.

His father’s yell sent a frightened unexpected shiver down his spine.

“I'm coming”.

“Hurry up”.

Eric stuffed the books down his book bag along with his laptop, notebook, and pens and pencils, and rushed down the stairs to the garage, with his luggage and book bag. His father stood next to the car, drinking a can of coke.

“What took you so long? If we get there by nighttime, your granny will give me a headache amount of yelling. You know how she is”.

Hearing that, Eric chuckled softly.

“Sorry, sorry, I was searching for those new books you got me”.

Eric’s father let out a sigh.

“When did you even get into reading”.

“Aaaah, about 5 months ago”.

“Is grandma going to have a feast?”.

His father took a moment to finish the can of coke before responding.

“Of course, she hasn’t seen us for about…4 years now. So yeah, the old lady is definitely cooking up a storm.”

Eric’s father laughed briefly, followed with a light smile from his son.

“Alright, let’s go see the old woman”. His father said, while throwing the coke can to the rubbish bin from about 20 feet away with insane accuracy.

Everytime he sees his father perform impressive feats such as that, he would think his father could have been a famous Basketball player, rather than a famous model, if he pursued it when he was younger.

“Mr. Deng, could you get the gate open”. His father said ordering his gate man in a very kind respectful tone. The type of tone a person talks to their grandparents with.

“Sure, saw”. Mr. Deng exclaimed.

Old Mr. Deng hurried to the gate, with speed not suited his age. Eric and his father told him repeatedly to be careful, but it seems to him and his father that old age comes along with stubborness.

Eric and his father got into the BMW, and drove off. Before he left the compound, Eric turned back and waved at the saddened maids, they waved back with a smile that shivered. The staff were like his family. They came along to his trips, to Nigeria and Egypt, and even to the U.S to visit his mom. And everytime he got in trouble (which rarely happens) or got banned from drinking soda, the maids and Mr. Deng always came to his rescue and defended him. The reason why they aren’t going with them was because they were from the Dinka tribe. Eric doesn’t know why, but his grandmother doesn’t like them at all. But he did know the protagonist of the book he wanted to read so badly was from the Dinka tribe. He also knew the protagonist was the one who was responsible for bringing water to South Sudan. So he finds it really hard to see why she dislikes the Dinka’s. But putting that aside, in the course of the next couple weeks, they will miss each other dearly, even if it’s just a couple weeks.

Suddenly he wondered about something, his father never really told him how long the trip would take.

“Hey, paps, how long until we reach South Sudan”.

“Well, am, from here to there, it should take us about 9 hours”.

“9 hours”. Eric said, shocked beyond belief.

“Well, you see why I told you to hurry up”.

“But I thought it would take us about 4 hours”.

“You wish”. His father said eyebrows high, followed with a smirk, that was made with nothing but amusement at the chance of them reaching South Sudan in just 4 hours. That seemed to be near miracle level to him.

Eric let out a sigh to mentally prepare himself to have a headache that could only be cured by sleeping.

Hearing his sigh he laughed.

“I’ma just kill time by reading”.

Eric pulled out the book he has been dying to read,surprisingly even more than the song of Ice and Fire.

“What book are you going to read this time?”. His father said sarcastically.

“A long walk to water”.

“Oh that book, I heard your aunt wouldn't stop talking about that book, so when you asked me to buy it for you I thought it must be good, so I listened to the audio book”.

“How was it?”. Eric asked.

“Well, it’s life changing, it might even change a person’s perspective of the world. I don't wanna go into too many details because I don't wanna spoil it for you”.

“Oh, alright.” Eric said enthusiastically

He didn’t know what he should expect, but he knew there was something special about that book. Since everyone was talking about it and giving positive reviews, he thought how could it not be good. Under his skin he could feel the excitement, the hunger, tormenting his body and mind to just find out what experience is in that book.

As he was just about to open the book cover, his dad started playing Not Like Us".

“Ok paps, the song is funny, but it isn’t even that good”.

“You just hating”.

He then turned it up even more, with a smirk as wide as his taste in music.

Eric mumbled to himself that the song was annoying, while putting the book back into his bag.

Few hours later

His dad was now listening to one of Ye's albums. Due to the music and being trapped inside the car for hours, he began to feel that pulsing headache, he swore that it’s as if his brain was beating like a heart. The pain was excruciating, it forced his body to go into its own healing process, that was improving, and proving more effective with each headache he had to endure.

He began feeling his eye eyelids growing heavy, by each passing second. Turning to the window, he saw 2 copies of each car passing by. Eric began to wonder, is this what people who take drugs and smoke weed feel. He didn’t fight it, he gave in, and allowed his eyelids to slowly collapse on him. His head knocked against the car window, with a thud, but he didn’t feel anything. Eric was knocked out, fast asleep. His father glanced at him, smiling, eyes lit with love.

The screams, the crying, the yelling for aid, all mixed and rong in Eric’s ears. It’s all he could hear, the music of death. The entire city was out, the only source of light was the fire that ravaged the city. All around him, men, women, children, were burning alive. Women crying in front of their dead husbands bodies, that have been crushed under the rubble. Men screaming due to getting a limb amputated, or maybe they got it blown off by grenades and bombs. Children screaming and crying, digging up rubble where their parent’s squashed bodies were buried. Their screams give off the scent of their emotions, devastating and sadening. Their screams were tragic, their screams traveled from his ears to his heart, squeezing it, their suffering grabbing his ankles, arms, and shoulders. The sadening, terrifying, voice of suffering screamed at him, “Please save me sir. Please help me sir. Please someone help me get the rubble off my parents. I know they're alive, they promised”. The grip on his heart was tight, his heart pumping rapidly, his breathing unstable, his mind cracking, but just as always he put himself together and breathed in and out, trying with all his might not to reach for his waist and put a gun to his head. He was now calm and walked forward with the weight of hundreds of thousands of souls, if not millions. With each step he took, he felt like falling down, and going into a deep slumber for all of eternity, but he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to his mind and body’s plea to just stop, but he refused, not now, not until he makes a world she could be happy in. He thought, as he was walking down the road, he saw women and children, with ripped clothes, exposing their bodies, but they didn’t seem to notice, and if they did, they wouldn’t care, how could they, they lost everything, their belongings, there food they have been saving, and their new families they have been cultivating since the war started, it’s all gone. Their hair was a mess, some burned and covered in dirt, their eyes were dull and looked like they had different lenses they use to see the world. They awakened it, they had his eyes, they had the abyss of human nature’s eyes. Their eyes were leaking tears that glided down their faces continuously, just like a cascade. Eric noticed their faces were wearing make-up of a stark facial expression, he knew the aftermath forcibly held them down and put it on them. Just like many and many aftermaths did to him. He kept on walking, then stopped abruptly, there was a girl, looking to be in her mid teens. She was completely naked, revealing several cuts and bruises on her body. Her wounds were covered in dirt, but still oozed with sparkling blood. Eric couldn't describe what he was seeing, even if somebody asked him to. It’s just something about It’s just something about her that seemed divine. Her blood was like water, transparent, but not at the same time, it was like gold, beautiful and shiny, thus seductive. For a moment he wondered, what does her blood taste like. But try as he might, his taste bud couldn't reminisce nor conjure anything that might have even the slightest taste to her. Water, pork, chicken, soda, nothing was coming to mind. For a second he wondered, was she a unchosen one, but he quickly drove the thought out from his mind. If she was, she would have attacked someone already. As she got closer, Eric could fully make out her appearance. Her curly blond hair perfectly framed her face, her hair was blonde enough that people could be deceived into thinking it was white. She had plump pink lips, with breast rather than actually hanging down actually clung to her chest, Her waste was narrowmand her legs wasn’t that of a pretty girl, but that of a beautiful woman. Her skin was as white as snow, she was albino. And her face was,..... Horrible disgusting, tragic, and……. terryfying. Her face was…. Lit with the brightest of beautiful of smile’s. A smile Eric has not seen in a very long time. People smiles was always tainted by the things they have seen, and done. But her smile looked real as a real smile could get. She looked happy,... or was she insane, turned insane just like many people have, when they lost their reason for living. She was now giggling, that giggle turned into a smile, that smile turned into laughter and that laughter turned into a sickening laughter, a laughter that made him reminise about all the times he had lost himself, about all the times he had to make a difficult decisions. No, that’s not the right way to say it. About all the decisions he was forced to make, decisions that haunted him everynight. It was a laugh that was familiar to him, a laugh that haunted him every night he laid next to her.

She began pulling her hair, crying, while laughing like a mad person. She went over to the half collapsed building and began banging her head against the wall, again, and again, until a stream of blood ran down her face. Eric, just like the selfish young monster he is, he rushed to her, tackling her to the ground, hugging her tightly. The way he would’ve hugged her if she was here. Her gut wrenching laughter was replaced by weeping, of a pathetic, weak, little girl that was in need of a hero. But did she ever think her hero would be a monster? So why did the murderer Eric, save a girl from the edge of insanity, just by giving her a mare hug, just by doing a brief minor action of sympathy and intimacy. He saved her because….. He was a terrible person.

Eric woke up, sweat dripping down his face and onto his lap. Noticing his father pressing down on a button that made the window next to him descend, he leaned closer to the rush of wind, relieving him.

"Thanks". Eric said.

"It's not even hot in here". Eric's father said with a confused face.

"That's because I'm strange".

Eric's father chuckled.

"You sure are,... how was the sleep".

"Terrible".

"Not surprising since you wouldn't stop turning".

"I was".

"Yeah, I wish I videoed it".

There was a brief silence between them. Until Eric spoke.

"Are we in South Sudan". Eric said with his voice leaving traces of hopefulness.

"Yes, luckily for you, you slept through 4 hours of the drive".

"Yeah, my headache's completely gone".

Eric's father glanced at him for a moment, his face showed a brief look of concern.

"Tell you what, when we get back I'll take you to the doctor, and then we can buy some stuff for our next trip”.

“Trip to where”. He asked.

“To the U.S”.

Eric’s face lit up with excitement.

“Wait, we’re visiting Mom for the summer, for how long”.

“1 and a half a month”.

Eric was practically bursting with excitement. He couldn’t wait to see that woman again. Eric pictured his earliest memory of meeting her. He was just 4, running up to a caucasian woman, wearing a very lady-like beautiful white dress. He remembered everything clearly, she was squatting, wearing her white heels, and her blond, long, flowy hair, hung down to her right breast. Her smile as bright as the sun illuminating her hair, making her look like a goddess incarnate. Her eyes, a light green, they were transparent, he swears he could see it, he swears he could see her soul. Her bright golden soul, it was the soul that of a warm kind person. She embraced him in her arms, holding him tight, kissing his cheek, while spinning him around. He played with her blue gem earrings that shined in the sun. On that day, he fell deeply in love with his mom.

“Hey Dad, how come you never told me about, how you met Mom”. He said, his voice laced with curiosity and realization. Eric’s father took a moment to respond, unsure if it was the right time to say.

“Not now”. His father paused.

“I think the story really isn’t appropriate for 9-year-olds, well not the full story at least”.

Eric lifted an eyebrow.

“How inappropriate could it be, I mean, I already know about sex, if that’s what you’re worried about”.

His father looked genuinely surprised, and a bit amused.

Did they talk about it at school, or are you watching porn”?

“W,w, what, of course not, it’s sex education, the guidance counselor came to my class and talked about it”. Eric said startled by his father’s weird question. His father laughed briefly.

A few hours later.

The sun began to set, lighting up the city and the exterior of the car, with a bright eye-catching light signaling the day was ending.

Eric looked out the window, with awe and appreciation to any god that made him able to witness a site like that.

“Wish I had my camera”. His father said with a sigh.

“You forgot it”.

“Y, yeah”. His father said, his face drenched in regret.

“Sigh”.

Eric layed back on his seat, and a few seconds later sprung back up.

“Wait, there is no way we will, no she’s already done cook”. His father cuts him off.

“Relax, I called her while you were sleeping and told her we aren’t going to be there today”.

Eric leaned back with a sigh of relief, completely exhausted by fear. He could feel his pulse and heart beating violently, casting the illusion that his whole body was a blood-pumping machine.

His father took a quick glance at Eric’s face, and smiled, almost bursting with laughter.

“No thank you, no nothing, I had to endure 35 minutes of non-stop cursing and yelling.

“You timed it”. Eric said, his voice laced with surprise and amusement.

“Yeah”. He pulled out his phone and showed Eric the timer.

“Well Father, I envy you, it looks like your mind is awfully resilient”.

Eric’s father's face puffed up, trying not to laugh, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop the side effect of one of the reasons why he loved his son. He burst out laughing, Eric, looking at his father with a big grin on his face, began to laugh along with him.

3 minutes, 3 minutes of nothing, but continuous laughter until they finally stopped.

“Ha ha ha ha ha, alright, hi hi ha ha ha, alright, alright, let’s stop making fun of your grandma”.

“Hi hi hi ha ha ha ha ha, alright, alright”.

They both took a deep breath, trying not to end up laughing again. Eric really does love his father, he was given everything he ever asked for, as long as he didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fail any classes, or didn’t enter his rebellious phase. That rarely happened. There was a time Eric threw a tantrum when he didn’t see his mom for a while, but he was just 5. He and his father are very close, if somebody mistook them as brothers instead of father and son, they would both see why. It seems that whenever one of them discovers a new hobby, the other shows interest.

Just like when his father started getting into photography, Eric discovered he had a natural gift for it.

He glanced out the window, the sunset light stung his eyes, quickly shielding and opening up a crack between the gaps of his fingers, he noticed the sunset light illuminating the entire city and the river. Casting a golden glow over the city and the river. The river as if a mirror, reflected the golden setting sun, and the city. As if there is another world beneath the water. The whole thing almost seemed surreal, like god was giving them his blessings.

“Which city are we in”.

“ Juba, we are 442 miles away from Bentiu. We’re going to spend the night at a hotel”.

Eric’s heart paused.

“We are not gonna stay at the same hotel 2 years ago, are we”? He said quickly, expecting a swift reassuring response.

“No, No, of course not, we won't be sleeping with Cockroaches again”.

Hearing that he took a deep breath of relief. Eric began reminiscing about the roach hotel. He could still feel his body being tickled by the little almost unkillable insects, navigating across his entire body. Never again, he told himself.

“You hungry? My friend told me about a great restaurant in the city we should try.” He said, looking at the golden Rolex on his wrist, that shined in the sunset light.

“What do they serve”? Eric asked

“Jollof rice and Chicken, Fries and Burgers, with sodas. You wanna try it”.

“Alright”.

Cruising through the city Eric looked up from the window and saw colossal buildings. Even though Eric came to Juba 2 years ago, the city was unrecognizable to him. Then again, he was just 7 two years ago. The buildings were a lot taller and bigger than he remembered. The streets and the highway were more cleaner and developed, he also noticed there were fewer vendors. Were they relocated by some new law, he thought. Eric smirked, at the realization that the country might be getting more wealthy. Just the thought of it made his lips undergo a metamamorphosis, transforming his lips into a bright grin, at the conjured image in his mind, of him actually staying at a luxurious hotel, instead of a hotel infested with a nation of roaches, hidden in the beds.

“We’re here”. His father said, reversing his car into the restaurant’s parking space.

Unbuckling their seatbelts, they exited the car and entered the restaurant.

Almost immediately a wave of kitchen noise and the chatting of the customers bombarded their ears. As they got closer the mouth-watering aroma swam up their noses.

Maybe this restaurant isn’t trash, Eric thought.

“Excuse me are you guys in line to order”. Eric’s father said with a light smile.

“Oh, no you can order, w we were just waiting for them to give us our table number”. The girl and her friends, faces flashed bright grins, before they quickly hid it in embarrassment. He also couldn't help but notice that the girl stuttered when talking to his father. The way just like all women stuttered in his presence, even the maids. Eric glanced at his father, just to remind himself why his father was blessed with the art of seducing women.

“Oh, ok, you ladies have a nice day alright”. He said in his American accent.

“You too”. The women said, grabbing their recite with a bold 9 on it swiftly. But before they left they flashed him a smile, before scouring off to the higher floors, chatting quietly.

His father went over to the cashier and ordered their food.

In the meantime, Eric observed the customers at the restaurant. He realized that the restaurant was quite luxurious, especially the customers, they looked richer or just as rich as his father. Some also looked to be foreigners from the U.S.

“Eric, I bought us a table upstairs”. His father said, stopping his curious mind.

He followed his father to the 8th and final floor of the restaurant. It overlooked the roads and small neighboring buildings. The floor was decorated with plants that looked real. They were all over the railing with lights on them. The tables were painted based on African folklore, with a noticeable number painted in red. He knew this because he heard several stories about it almost every day, from the maids. But he couldn’t blame them though, he was quite hard to entertain.

His father pointed towards a table of one of several, next to the railing.

“The table is over there”. He said. Eric followed him. Looking over at the other buildings, he saw as the sunset finally began disappearing, between the large buildings. Casting its remaining radiance onto his face. He gazed at the sunset for a little bit before continuing to walk along with his father.

“Table 10. Right here”. He said, pointing at the number on the middle of the table.

Eric, and his father sat down, almost immediately a young man in his late teens came to take their orders. If Eric had to guess, he was probably around 19 or 20. He wore a stylized white dress shirt, that seems to have laces on them. And a black dress pants, followed with the worlds shiniest shoes.

“Good afternoon sirs, what do you guys want for your order.” He says in his best American accent, trying to seem professional.

A smirk appeared on Eric’s face, amused at the waiter’s horrid attempt at a foreign accent.

“Can I have Jollof Rice with sweet and sour chicken.”

He looked over to Eric, giving him a slight gesture.

“Can I have Fried Rice with sweet and sour chicken.”

“Any drinks.”

“I will have a coke”.

“And I’ll have a sprite with ice please”. Eric said.

“Alright, you guys' orders will be ready in 10 minutes.”

And with that, the waiter disappeared walking down the steps to the lower floors.

“Oh my god. Did you girls see that handsome guy on the first floor?”

Eric's eyes glided to the same group of girls from before.

They were coming from the entrance of the 8th floor. Their South Sudanese accent, as strong as any native’s.

“Yes girl, did you see his eyes. He must be a foreigner. Why did you not get him? Go and look for him before he leaves.” Her friend said, her voice box perfect for public speaking.

The entire tables of families and friends turned to look at the group of girls, laughing. Eric father also heard their loud plotting and began to chuckle. The girls walked to their table in embarrassment, each girl portrayed to their friend, their anger in the form of glares and the kissing of teeths. It just so happens that their table, table 9, was right next to Eric’s and his father’s table. As the girls came closer, the girl who informed her friends of her attraction for Eric’s father made eye contact with Eric. She quickly averted her eyes. The entire floor’s atmosphere was engulfed in silent chuckles. The chuckles of the customers rang, almost like a bell. He averted his eyes to his father, only to find a wide grin stretched across his face. As if the timing couldn’t had been any better, the very last ember of the sun set shined on his face. Eric’s father’s face was glowing. His black curly hair sitting on top of his head as if it was some kind of crown, his green eyes, like gems, combined with the last remaining sunlight gave off the illusion that they were glowing. His lips were thin, painted by the colour of pink, just like his mother’s. He had a athletic slim body that of a sprinter, with muscles to enhance his appearance. His father’s physique was the complete contrast to Eric’s physique. He may have had his father’s and mother’s features, but not their charm over other people. Eric often stear at himself in the mirror everyday, when he wakes up to go to school and wouldn’t help think his body was no different from a hippo. He remembers going to the doctor for a physical, and he found out he weighed 124 pounds. That was the day that Eric got hit with the harsh reality that he was fat. All of a sudden Eric’s world began to shatter, he was no longer fast enough for football and his stamina would deplete rapidly. He would start to be neglected by his peers and no longer seemed relevant to the football team. Eventually he quit the team, but deep down, he wanted someone to come up to him, to encourage him not to quit, not to give up, to keep pushing. But no one came up to him, no one, not his coach, not his teammates, and not his friends, who were all in the soccer team by the way. No one had faith in him anymore. They gave up on him, without even trying. That’s when he realised he was easily replaceable. He accepted the fact that maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought he was, and that he was just a nobody, just a average Midfielder that was easily replaceable. In South Sudan, soccer is easily the most dominated sport in the country, that means every single boy in his school wanted to join the soccer team, so of course he was replaceable. Realising this back then he didn’t have any idea how he made the team. As he finally accepted his harsh reality, he began seeing his father in a different way recently. He would often stear at his father’s body, admiring his physical traits. His broad shoulders, his bulky biceps, his veiny forearms his spotless skin, and his towering height. Eric would stand for hours naked, stearing at himself in the mirror thinking, why can’t I be like him, why can’t everywhere I go people stear at me too, why is it always him and not me, what’s the differents between me and him, am I not his son. In frustration he would pull his belly rolls violently, until he just stopped and continue stearing at himself in the mirror until the maids called him for bed.

Noticing Eric zoned out, his dad said, “That could never be me,” trying to get Eric to laugh. But Eric was used to these types of situations, he just gave a quick smile followed with a brief chuckel to appease his father.

At the corner of Eric’s eyes, he saw a group of staff coming from the lower floors, mostly women. He was impressed by their impressive ability to balance huge trays full of food and drinks in both hands. As they walked toward the tables, the glass of drinks cluncked together making a clunking noise. Like a bright light, his mind flashed back to the past. A memory full of nostalgia. It might seem stupid to other people, even to his peers, but Eric always wished if he had to be reborn, he would want to be reborn into a fantasy world, with taverns and adventurers. Just like the amazing fantasy animes he watched from the start to the very end. It’s just a life he knows he will never have, not again anyway. In otherwords, it’s simply a fantasy to him right now. To be admired and respected by others, and most importantly to him, is to be loved by others. when he was just a little boy he watched as people admired and respected his father, not just for his good looks, but for his success in business. And to Eric, the very symbol of success was his father. He may not know much about his fathers past, but he definitely knew his father wasn’t always rich. His father was born and raised somewhere near the Nile river in the Nu’er tribe. But to escape from his childhood lifestyle to what he is now is almost like a miracle to him. A new lifestyle of a in home gym, a swimming pool and businesses generating millions of pounds per month. Despite being his father’s son, he often feels like he will never succeed his father in anything. He can’t imagine himself being his father. And that scares him, he knows that his father gives him everything he needs, a good education in a good school, good food, and personal items, and to disappoint his father after all that he has done for him is no better than stabbing his father’s dreams and expectations for him. Not just academically, but in terms of one day ready to inherit everything his father owns.

Their young waiter for the night, was approaching their table, carrying a single tray of their food and drinks.

“Here is your dinner for this lovely night sirs.”

Eric cringed at his horrible American accent mixed with his unnatural professionalism, it made him feel second hand embarrassment for him.”

“Thank you.” Eric and his father said one after the other.

“I will regularly come check up on you guy’s if you need anything else, or you could just wave me over.”

The more he talked, the more Eric wanted him to stop talking and just leave.

“Ok.” His father said.

The waiter walked away and descended to the lower floors.

As soon as he was gone, they helped themselves to there hot steaming dinner. But out of the corner of Eric’s eyes he could see the girl’s from the opposite table, taking quick glances at them. Eric felt a little uncomfortable but decided to ignore it. He took a spoon full of his fried rice, and paused, appreciating the warmth of the heat descending his throat. He mixed it with his sweet and sour chicken, the only differents this time was the sweetness that strangely enough, compliments the heat of the fried rice and covered his tongue in sweet gravy, with a sweet after taste. When he was done, there was not a single rice grain left on the plate. He then washed it down with his sprite. He thought his drink was sweeter than usual, but he didn’t pay it anymind. He gulped it all down and released a burp, that should’ve escaped his mouth, but escaped through his nose, with a slight burn. He was so caught up in his feast, he didn’t notice his father finished his, long before he did.

“You finished before me, you were that hungry.” Eric said in amazement.

“I’m on a diet, so I really didn’t eat anything from this morning till now.”

Before Eric could respond, he noticed someone was standing in front of their table.

“Excuse me sir, could I have a moment with you please?”

It was the same woman who was staring at them.

“Is there something wrong, or something I could help you with, Miss?” His father said.

“Oh no, I just want to talk to you privately, if you dont mind.”

His father took a second to ponder before deciding to go with her. As they were walking away, Eric heard chuckles coming from her friends table.

He sighed, taking out his phone from his pocket, and browsed through the internet. As he was scrolling, he came across a thumbnail, which was of a man looking directly at the camera. Eric knew who he was, his name was Sean Makuei. A well-known podcaster whose fame quickly spread across most of the English-speaking African countries. His fame rose from his unmatched humour and knowledge about a lot of things. He was once a South Sudanese politician before retiring 2 years ago. Knowing how entertaining his podcast and videos can be, Eric clicked on the video and retrieved his wireless AirPods from his pocket. As soon as he connected it to his Bluetooth and put them on, the first thing he heard was, “YOU ALL CAN’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU ALL ABOUT THIS.”

Eric smiled, thinking, what is he talking about now?

Makuei cleared his throat.

“For those of you who don't know about the news, the South Sudanese and the United States gave the world just a few hours ago. I’ll inform you. At 2:25 p.m. this afternoon, the South Sudanese and the United States government came together to discuss the Asteroid that spans 4 and a half miles that is on a course to hit either Nigeria, South Africa, Ghana, or South Sudan. And at 5:47 p.m., both governments came on live television on every African News channel and even the United States news channels. To inform us that they have decided not to destroy the Asteroid for reasons that they won't tell us, and that if the Asteroid hits in South Sudan, which apparently, South Sudan has the highest probability to be the strike zone of the Asteroid, they will not sell or give it to any country, including the United States. A representative of the United States states, I regret to say that the South Sudanese government has decided not to accept our offer to buy the Asteroid. But still we will offer our services in order to protect the South Sudanese people, and to strengthen our bond as 2 countries. And with that, it shifts to them talking about the consequences it might have on the African countries, and how they can cushion the impact. Just so you all know, every African country has decided that if the Asteroid hits their country, that they will sell it for half a trillion dollars to the U.S. Only the South Sudanese government refuses to give it to them if it strikes here. I can only guess it’s because they think they don’t need the United States anymore. With the South Sudan economy skyrocketing, and life for the South Sudanese people is improving, alongside their growing military strength. South Sudan isn’t really reliant on any country right at the moment. But what’s so bad about this, you all may be wondering? What’s so bad about this? It’s their silence. Both governments didn’t give us any information, other than it might hit in some African countries and how big it is, they didn’t tell us the date, they didn’t tell us the area it might hit, they didn’t tell us why the United States even wants the Asteroid and why our government refuses to sell it to them, despite how close the 2 countries have gotten since 2027. I know when the government is trying to hide something. I don’t know what makes the Asteroid so special, but whatever that makes it special has the worth of numbers we can’t even imagine. That being said, I hope these days aren't the calm before the storm.”

And with that, the video ends.

After watching the clip of one of his hour long videos, Eric felt strangely calm.

“They must be overreacting, there is no way, they would really let the Asteroid hit without some kind of plan”. He said, trying to pass the news as one of those news where you think something terrible is about to happen, but it turned out to be a false alarm.

A few minutes later his father came back, with a smirk on his face, so was that woman. It didn’t take too many guesses for Eric to guess what happened. At the corner of his eye, he could hear the women whispering to one another. It reminded him of the girls that would sit on the grass and watch him and his former teamates play soccer all evening, sitting and giggling with one another.

“You ready to go”. His father asked.

“Yeah we can go”.

His father waved over the waiter to pay the bill and they left the restaurant soon after.