TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

"Silent Zero" by Cassidy Martin

Silence Within the People by Julianne Lee

"Blind Before Fire" by Ryan McCune

A collection of poems by Colin O'Donnell

Bibliography

Introduction

Screams. Blood dripping from children's arms. Bruised eyes and cracked knuckles. This is the fight so many citizens go through every single day. Political oppression is a flaw in governments all around the world. Over 100 countries do not have laws against domestic violence. People have no freedom and aren't allowed to have minds of their own. Specifically, people are oppressed in countries such as Afghanistan, Nigeria, the Dominican Republic, and El Salvador. Citizens are living with these hardships and are failing to succeed in rebellions. In each novel–The Weight of All Things, Purple Hibiscus, In the Time of the Butterflies, and The Kite Runner–the oppression occurs in different ways. People are silently shunned and spied on to keep citizens sane. Violence is the most major issue along with attempting to change religion. People are seen as worthless and wrong, when they obtain their own opinions. Some are unaware of their cruel government’s ruling.

Through this magazine, we are creating awareness of the instability of most governments. Political oppression and government issues should be more well known in different countries. In our product, emotions are expressed freely of people living under oppression. This is shown through a first person point of view narrative, a painting expressing emotion, poetry through a citizen’s perspective, and a young soldier learning of the actions of his government. Through these artistic products, readers will gain a better knowledge and a more accurate perception on the issue of political oppression.

"Silent Zero"

Cassidy Martin

I smelled something burning. Where was I? Where was my brother?

I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry, but I could make out an enormous flame a few feet away. I saw a man next to me. I didn't know him. I checked his pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He needed help. There was blood everywhere. I didn't know if it was this man's or my own... A bone in his leg was sticking out. I needed to stop the bleeding. I didn't know where my supplies were but for now, all I could do was tear a piece of my shirt to tie around the wound. "Ah! It hurts!" He was screaming in pain but there was nothing else I could do. I told him, "Sir, you need to calm down. Your leg is broken, but you'll be all right. I have to find some help." I helped carry him over to hide behind a car. He couldn't be left in the open. I ran around looking for others. There were so many bodies. The explosion.. This all started a few months ago...

•••

I woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread. It was one of my favorites. My father bought it for the special occasion. Today, I was going to go to college. Here in the Dominican Republic, we didn't get much education. My brother Lucas and I were lucky. My father works for the government so, our family gets opportunities that others don't have the chance to. My mother died when we were young. She was horribly ill and nobody knew what to do except comfort her until she passed. It's been just us three in these hard times.

I threw on my knapsack and walked out the door. I ran to the school. I couldn't wait to become a doctor. When I arrived, the building wasn't as impressive as I imagined. There was rust and paint chipping in the corners. The door squeaked as I walked in. It was dark and dusty everywhere. A white haired man lurked into the area and immediately exclaimed, "How dare you invade my privacy like that! Get out of my house!!" My voice was breaking as I explained I was going to become a doctor. He told me that this was no such place.

"My father works for the government. After many petitions, we received a message that I would be able to learn medicine once I turned eighteen".

"Well it's a scam. I couldn't teach you anything. I don't know how to read or write. They screwed you over like they do to everyone in this country. You know why I'm alone? My entire family was murdered by those bastards".

He slammed the door. I was surprised he said those things. I mean, it's true but people are watching everywhere. Some will report what others have said. I never dare to speak badly about the government. They'd kill me or worse.

•••

When I was heading home, I heard a gun shot. My fingers went numb and my legs were shaking. The front door was open and a pool of blood was splattered all over the doormat. It was my father. He wasn't breathing. I tried CPR but there was nothing I could do. It was too late. My body went into shock; I couldn't move. I just sat there over his body wanting to claw my eyes out. Why would this happen? We didn't do anything wrong.

After an hour or so, I remembered my brother was still at home too. He can't be gone too. I couldn't live with myself. There was a faint sobbing voice. I had to find him. After looking and looking, I found him crouched down, in the corner of a closet. I reached my hand out to touch him and he screamed. I could see the fear in his eyes. He had never seen something like this before. I can't tell if he'll ever be back to normal. How could someone be so horrible to kill a father in front of his family? That elderly man was right. I cannot continue living under this cruelty. I couldn't stay here anymore. All of the memories were too much to handle. It was just me and Luke. Why would this happen to us? That night I decided we should try to get some sleep in our old tree house. It was small and not very sturdy, but it will do.

It was really late when Lucas finally fell asleep. I knew I'd never sleep; I was too scared. If I shut my eyes for one second, he could be gone. That can't happen. I was thinking that maybe I should go back to that old guy. He was cranky, but he had a point. He could help us. It was the only hope I had left to keep me living. I had to prepare though, to show him I was really committed to do something courageous. My father had a gun in the attic, I could use that assuming I remember how. My brother started mumbling in his sleep. I couldn't understand what he was thinking but then he was screaming. I shook him to help him escape from the nightmare. We needed some breakfast to bring up our energy. Scrambled eggs and milk. It's what my father usually made. Would everything I do bring my mind back to the tragedy we were trying to get through? I had to be strong but the truth is, I was scared. I wasn't sure I could do this, but I had to try.

After a few minutes of silently eating, I explained my plan. Immediately, he wanted to join me. I slipped on my worn out sneakers and led him to the building. After what happened last night, I remembered I never told anyone the scam I was sent through. It doesn't matter though, I don't have my dad to talk to anymore.

I knocked on the door and peered in the window while I was waiting. He startled me with a rifle in his hands. My heart pounded so fast, I thought it would bounce out of my chest.

"Oh. You again. Sorry bout that, thought you were from the government."

"Alright then.. I was thinking about what you said the other day. I was hoping you could help us. Our father was murdered last night.. I have no idea why they were after him but it couldn't have been anyone else. I want to honor my family and help to make our country a good place again. I won't go by every day with fear. What we need is hope."

After pondering over my speech, he told me I had real guts. And those guts belong in a rebellion. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, there were other people out there who wanted to overthrow the government. In a few days, there was going to be a meeting of citizens to plan out the revolution. I was ready. I was ready to change the world.

•••

As people arrived, I led them through a narrow dirt path in the trees. We had to meet somewhere secluded so people wouldn't find us as easily. When the host directed the last people to our spot he jumped right in.

"Let's get down to business. We have lost so many who are close to us due to this failure of a country. It's time to take from them what they took from us. They don't deserve mercy; they deserve revenge".

He continued with a powerful speech. There were so many who have silently suffered. Now is the time where we can do something about it. It was very encouraging to see all of the eager faces ready to fight.

Soon a portion of the rebels would be creating a diversion a few miles from the Capitol. Hopefully, it draws enough attention from the government's guards and soldiers. The rest of us were attacking their building. It was all happening so fast. The rush of adrenaline, my breakfast about to come back. I've never felt anything like this. We were just a few hundred yards away. All I remember is running, my breath becoming heavy. Then, something unimaginable happened.

My ears were ringing. My head was pounding. My sight was blurry but very faintly I could see bodies all over the ground.

We were hit. Somehow, they must've known about our attack plan. This didn't make sense. Someone was spying on us and got our information. Everything we were working for, it was lost. The only thing on my mind was finding my brother. I screamed for him and saw his hand reaching out under a pile of debris. It took all my strength to pull off the concrete on his shoulder. It was dislocated so I yanked it back into place. He would be back to normal in a few days.

We walked around looking for other survivors. Most were dead or too far gone to keep alive. All we could do was hold their hand till they passed. Others were trapped in cars or bleeding out in the open. It was up to us to save everyone we could.

2 years later...

We were at it again continuing our rebellion. We've recruited people from places all over. We had thousands of citizens ready to fight. This time, we are prepared. This time, we are ready. This time, we will succeed. We are the Silent Zero.

Silence Within the People

Julianne Lee

The artwork that I created represents the issue of political oppression by showing the emotions of how people felt. The young woman that I painted in my product shows her perspective about the lack of the freedom. In the book, Purple Hibiscus, Nigerians aren't able to use their own voices to fight for their freedom. Even if they did rebel against the issue, it caused more tension to rise. To add on, it makes the government use violence as punishment. There is violence shown in my art product by the bruises and cuts she has on her face. This shows one of the problems for political oppression. Also, there is silence everywhere, and it affects the way Nigerians behave. Without the power of their voices, there won't be new changes seeking for their freedom. The young woman has duct tape over her mouth that says silence, and this symbolizes fear. In general, people are afraid to speak up for what they believe is right, so no new changes can be made. The purple hibiscus that she is holding is a symbol for freedom and a change for the better. The red that is shown in the purple hibiscus represents violence and anger. Currently in Nigeria, there is female oppression because of their religion. They are required to wear a hijab over their head, based on what religion they follow. This symbolizes the differences between other religiousgroups. Because of the government controlling people and not respecting their rights, it has created an issue that affects different regions around the world.

"Blind Before Fire"

By Ryan McCune

The sun seemed to give off the heat of a thousand fires as I worked my Papa’s fields. I pushed the plow and the muscles of my back tensed. Sweat ran from my brow into my eyes and I had to stop for a moment to wipe it away. The rebels had passed through only a day ago and taken our family’s horse, along with the lives of my mother and two sisters. They ripped the women from the arms of my father and me, only to make us watch their men rape and stab them. They slowly bled out and the soil was stained red with the blood of their warm hearts. I wished I had the chance to take on those rebels and do to them worse than anything that could be put into words.

…

Soldiers belonging to the Salvadoran Army rode in two nights ago, only a day after plowing the fields. They saw that the rebels had been here and that most of our belongings had been taken. Their general came to our home and knocked on the door. When Papa answered the door the general introduced himself as Andrés and mentioned that they were looking for men. My father was still distraught and could not serve because of an accident with a crazed dog many years ago. His left leg was now nearly immobile and required him to use a cane. I approached the door: “Who is that?” Andrés asked.

“That is my son, Alejandro,” Papa responded.

“He seems able,” Andrés spoke as he prodded me with his deep eyes. Eyes that looked strong, but tired.

“He is only 17,” Papa pleaded.

“It is okay, Papa. I wish to face the men that killed Mami,” I interrupted.

“He seems willing as well,” Andrés added. He looked into my eyes and I proceeded out the door. I turned back to face my Papa who only nodded before going back inside.

…

Andrés said that they planned to conduct reconnaissance over the next few days and set up a camp in the village. I was told to find a man by the name of Gerardo in the camp and he would make sure that I got the correct supplies.

As I walked through the makeshift camp of tents and lean-tos in the center of our village, I was shocked at how fast everything had come together. There were barracks, a field hospital, and even a cafeteria. I could not stand to look at the field hospital for long. Men not much older than me lay on blood-stained sheets and moaned in agony. Injuries ranged from Malaria to missing limbs blown to pieces by the homemade firebombs of rebels.

I eventually made my way to a tent unlike all the others. Whereas most tents were large, green, and torn in most places, this tent was black and seemed to be brand new. Just as I moved toward the entrance a large man burst out the flap and made his way toward me. “Hey you!” he yelled pointing in my direction. His arms were covered in thick mats of hair and sweat covered his forehead above two massive eyebrows.

“Me?” I asked with a puzzled expression as I pointed at my own chest.

“Yes, you!” he exclaimed. “You must be the new one!”

“How did you know?” I asked him as he led me into the black tent.

“Well,” he said, “all the men that have been here for a while have a special way about themselves. You can always tell a man has seen things that only war brings in the look of his eyes.”

“Oh. Well, who exactly are you?”

“The name’s Gerardo. I have your equipment,” he said as he thrust a uniform into my arms. The inside of the tent was lit by four oil lamps hanging from the poles. A large table stood along the right side, and behind it were stacks of rifles. Lying on the table were grenades and machetes. On the left side of the tent were two rocket launchers and a few crates that I assume held ammunition. The side opposite the door had long rifles meant for snipers propped against it. “Keep those arms out,” Gerardo said as he grabbed an assault rifle and machete. He walked back to me and placed them in my arms. “Just a couple more things… there we are!” He opened a crate and removed two loaded magazines for the rifle. He finished off the pile with two hand grenades. “There we have it! Oh, have you ever shot a rifle before?”

“No, never even touched one,” I responded.

“Well, you’ll pick it up as you go along,” he replied as he ushered me out of the tent.

…

The sun was peeking over the horizon as a scout burst into my barracks and yelled, “There’s rebels on the ridge!” Everyone scrambled out of bed half-dazed but alert in preparation of battle. I stood up and hurried to pull my pants on, nearly tripping and falling flat on my face. I grabbed my rifle and other weapons and followed the rest of the troops out the door. It was three days since I first arrived in camp and some of the other soldiers had taken me out to show me the basics. Now I could at least shoot somewhat straight. One particular man named Rafael and I became very close. He was very kind and told me he had three sons and a daughter at home, and that he wished every day to be able to see them. He and I fell into pace together as we marched toward the ridge three miles away.

…

The chatter of automatic weapons pounded on my ears with the ferocity of a wild tiger. I lay behind a large rock that provided cover for not only me but three others, including Rafael. When we reached the ridge it appeared that the rebels had gone, but they were lying in wait. We progressed further up the ridge to investigate only to be attacked on both sides by the guerrilla fighters.

Now, firebombs kept us back as we took turns firing at the rebels. We managed to take a line of trees and the rebels took cover behind another across across a field. I grabbed a grenade from my belt and pulled the pin. Time seemed to slow as I hurled the grenade toward the enemy. I saw them take cover and then heard the distinct sound of my exploding grenade. I felt something hit my head and fall into my lap. When I looked down I saw a man’s hand, and it was not attached to an arm. I screamed as the realization of what I had just done kicked in. I just took a man’s life, maybe more than one. Rafael looked at me and I tried to stand up. He put a firm grip on my shoulder and held me against the rock. “Look into my eyes!” he yelled above the gunfire. “You have done what is right; you have avenged your family. Now help us to avenge the hundreds of others that these animals have harmed!”

I looked at him for a second. I picked up my rifle.

…

It had been a week since the Army first came to my family’s village. Andrés said that we had another lead on a group of rebels that would be taking us away from here and toward the mountains. As our troop packed up belongings and wrapped the tents, I returned home. I knocked on the door and was relieved to see my father’s face. The days had seemed like a lifetime.

“You look different,” he said to me.

“It has been a long few days, and now I must go. We'll be headed into the mountains,” I responded, now beginning to understand what Gerardo had said about the look in the eyes of a man that has seen war.

“If you feel that you must go, go,” Papa stated, “but remember that if you are to kill, the hardest decision is not to kill, but when to not kill.”

As I felt his message sink in, I gave him a long hug and felt the dampness of his tears on my shoulder.

…

The ground shook with the force of a thousand stampeding bulls. The rebel forces that we tracked to the mountains were over two hundred strong, and they were composed of men, women, and children. Explosions racked the foundation of the earth under our feet. Bullets whizzed by, some striking flesh, and others embedding themselves in trees. I was in a hole next to Rafael fearing for my life. I prayed to God that I would not die today, not here. All I wanted to do is go home. Rafael grabbed my arm and pointed to a large group of rebels making their way forward. I pulled the pin on a grenade and let it fly toward the group. My throw is perfect. I watch in slow motion as the handle flies off of the grenade in mid-air. The live explosive hurtled at the group and landed at their feet. Then the world stopped.

The grenade was at the feet of a large man wearing tattered clothing. He looked down and an expression of pure terror spread across its face. That is when it happened. I watched him throw himself on top of the grenade and curl into a tight ball. As he dove to the ground I counted the time in my head. 4…3…2…1… His body became a spray of tissue as metal fragments ripped through his flesh. However, the fragments were stopped by his body even as the men around him fell to the ground after hearing the loud explosion. That man was a hero.

We fought the rebels for a lifetime. Eventually, they began to retreat. They turned and ran into the forest to escape the bullets that rained on them. Wave after wave of bullets crashed into them as they ram. My fellow soldiers chased after them with bloodlust burning in their faces, brows furrowed and teeth clenched as if on the verge of growling. My stomach turned at the look of utter rage on their faces. I could not help but expel the contents of my stomach after the battle was over. Bodies littered the field and could be seen supine in the shadows of the trees. Bullet casings covered the ground on either side of the field like shells on a beach. I staggered from body to body as my legs turned to rubber. Some were missing limbs, others resembled Swiss cheese, but all of them were dead. Then, I heard the cry of a child. “Mommy!” he screamed.

From behind a small tree a boy no older than three revealed himself. Tears flowed like rivers down his cheeks and a rifle was gripped in his right hand. He looked at me and a few other men behind me. I started to raise my rifle but stopped. I began to stroll toward him when the quick chatter of a rifle was released from behind me. I watched the boy fold in front of me; blood slowly stained the ground around him. I collapsed to my knees and screamed.

…

After we got back to a camp that was set up at the base of the mountain we all ate. The successful battle was cause to celebrate for some, but not after what I saw happen. I laid on my bed and stared at the top of the tent where two poles met. I heard someone approach and sit on the bed beside me. That is when I heard Rafael’s voice say, “Why don’t you join us at the fire? Today was a good day.”

“A good day!” I felt all of my pent up emotions release in a flood of anger. “I saw a child die! And who knows how many men died today!”

“But you are still alive,” he replied, “and so am I.”

“After what I saw today, I wish I were dead. Today I realized that we are no better than them. We aren’t helping the people! Those rebels are people, and anyone not involved in this war is just being hurt! Homes are being taken and livelihoods are being ruined!”

“Those indecent men started this whole thing!” Rafael came back at me. "They claim to fight for the people, but think of what they did to your family! That kind of thing doesn’t stop with one family!”

I looked at him and no longer felt the desire to argue, or even talk. I rolled back over and he left me in peace. Every death that happened that day didn’t have to happen, and I didn't want another person to die. There must be better ways to go about such things, I thought. I decided that the government was the problem. I thought about all of the things that I had heard and read. The government had tried to silence the voice of the people, that is why these rebels fight, and that is why the Army kills them. The Army is only a tool used by the government to silence its people.

…

It has been three years since I realized what the government did. After that realization I left the Army. I was one of very few that could read and write. I took that advantage and wrote about the things that I had seen and done. Today, the war is over. My country is now on the long road to freedom of voice and opinion. Now, I see the world for how it really is, and every person for who they really are.

By Colin O'Donnell

The forms of oppression

Oppression is tyranny,

A ruling from a tyrant

A tyrant that hates its people

Oppression is persecution

those who stand up

Against the oppression of their peers

Will be brought down to their knees

Oppression is despotism

What the king wants

He will use all in his power to receive

Whether it be legal or illegal

The king shall abuse his power for it

Oppression is doom

It brings downfalls to society

Causing revolutions and protests

It may even end in war

Oppression is a dangerous act

And it will never end well

For the oppressed and the oppressors

For the oppressed can rise up

And ruin their enemies

The salvation of the oppressed

With oppression comes a hidden danger

The tyrants true fear

Always remember these words:

"Sometimes, the oppressed will arise

Like a Phoenix reborn from its ashes

The oppressed will come back

Perhaps even stronger

Stronger than the tyrant who has oppressed them

Stronger than the hate that has suppressed them

Their desire will rise up

And they will

Once and for all

Fight back to the very end"

The ruin of oppression

I destroyed oppression

For it was just

And needed to happen

It Brought down all the people

For We were never equal

I destroyed oppression

To free us all

From the tyrants above

And the depths of hell below

For the repressed women

Men and children alike

African, Asians, Arabs, and whites

We must rise up

And save those

who can't save themselves

From the despotism

That plagues us all

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