Killer No.13

Share This Post


‘One Shot, One Kill.’ Sniper motto. That’s what they taught us anyway. That was once upon a time. A life long gone. Another lifetime.

It was at the Kenya Army School of Infantry. The training was vigorous, and dangerous.

First, I trained as a Recon Ranger, then Special Forces sniper. I was Killer No.13. Lucky thirteen, enhe!
Turned to a razor-sharp weapon, killing machine.

Then was enrolled for a secret hit squad that never existed, and it doesn’t exist. Our missions were TOP SECRET. We eliminated the highest value targets that could be threat to national and regional, make that international, security.

The only problem was that the pay was paltry. You know how the government, especially the forces, is mean.

Solution? I went freelance. In the mansions of powers that be I am respected, and honoured, and a solution to all problems – both political and religious.

Born in Curse

When I stand to go, the first step is the hardest, but I take it. All I am thinking is I want to get myself out of the curse of being her ‘only child’. My spirit is bubbling from deep inside. It is that liberating. I will go and forget I had an elderly mother. I won’t look back, I decide. Even when, and if, she realizes that daughters too are children who can take care of their parents, I won’t come back, I tell myself. I am getting away from the curse, taking back my life. 

Do You Want To Hone Your Writing Skills?

Register today for creative writing courses

error: Content is protected !!