THE DEATH OF MY uncle was the straw that broke the camel’s back. After that, it wasn’t just a case of my willingly joining all the marches; now they became the highlight of my week. Despite the inherent risks posed just by going out and protesting, I ultimately felt I was doing something productive, if not cathartic. Because I refused to remain quiet or feel defeated, my conscience was at ease. Going out and expressing myself by telling the soldiers they were not welcome on my land somehow filled me with optimism and hope. It made me love life even more. Aside from fulfilling my patriotic duty
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