(Part 1/2) "That day I missed my husband like never before. That day I cried like never before. I held on to the bullet wound in my daughter’s chest. I tried to wrap a sari around it. I was yelling and screaming but the sound of the roaring guns and the bullets coming through the weak thatched walls of our mud house were louder than my scream. I screamed until my voice was no more. I tried to save her but she was gone. ‘Mother, I have a bullet pass through my chest and I do not think I will live’, was the last thing she said to me. Those words echo in my ears like a curse I will have to live with for the days I have remaining. She was pregnant. The baby could not even see what it is like to be born into this world. Earlier that night she was writhing in labor pain. It was dark and I did not take her to the hospital. We all thought we could wait until the next morning. If only I knew I would have taken her. She would be alive with us today. But things did not happen in that order. Earlier that night, my youngest daughter had warned me about the crowd forming in the neighborhood and the growing ruckus. Because it was dark, I could not see much. And all of a sudden, without anyone coming to tell us, I started hearing loud screams followed by what sounded like explosions. We all ran in and hid inside a room. Changing position from one corner to the other. We spend all night like that. The shooting continued. The explosions did not stop. Before dawn, around 4:30 in the morning, my daughter got shot. We did not see where the bullet came from. It hit her chest and she screamed. It was dark and I could not see anything. I grabbed my old sari and found her and tried to tie it around her chest in the darkness. Every time there was an explosion, the room would lit up and reveal the face of my dying daughter. The smoke of gunpowder made it impossible to breathe. I tried to save my daughter but her fate was sealed. ‘Mother, I have a bullet past through my chest and I do not think I will live’, was the last thing she said to me. Those words echo in my ears like a curse I will have to live for whatever is left in my life.
The explosions continue. No one heard our screams. When the fight stopped, people came to get us. They carried my daughter out. She had died. I remember coming out screaming and I remember all our cattle lay dead in the front of our house with big bullet holes in their bodies. Then I do not remember anything."
