Four mud-covered Frenchmen walked through the Kenyan forests. So far they had braved muddy roads, rapid rivers, and the inconveniences of being away from civilized society. They carried compact video equipment in their hands and hid inside thick foliage.
“We’re almost there. Almost there. Try to hold on a bit longer, everyone.”
The Frenchman in the lead looked to be in his thirties. He wiped a smudge of mud from his face and panted.
Behind him were his three comrades. Two of them were men and the final member was a woman.
They were all employees of the Agence France-Presse (AFP) and engaged in one of the world’s most dangerous professions - war correspondence!
These war correspondents walked through the rains of bullets to bring back information from the frontlines of war to the rest of the world. It could be said that these people were incredibly brave, and they had done countless services for human awareness. Naturally, there were also many reporters who had died on the frontlines!
Kenya ranked 128th out of 180 countries in the corruption perceptions index, and recent scandals had galvanized civic opposition to the country’s government. Conflicts had broken out in many areas as groups rose in opposition to their oppressors. In this kind of scenario, war correspondents had a role to play.
These four brave men and women were frontline war correspondents sent by the AFP to cover the frontline situation in Kenya.
This battlefield was a doomed and futile struggle for the belligerents. Because their forces Kenyan had no money, no food, and since they weren’t backed by any foreign power, their assault was gradually dying.
Even big countries like the United States and Russia who loved to intervene abroad had turned a blind eye to the corruption and cruelty of the Kenyan leadership. And China had adhered to its policy of non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries.
These frontline war correspondents were very brave but were also quite human. They had sympathy for the poor people of Kenya, but they were also powerless to do anything about it. All they could contribute were broadcasts of the frontline situations to the rest of the world. Hopefully, this would draw in global interest ad save lives.
“We cannot advance any further. Those at the front are the Kenyan government forces.”
The only woman in the group shouted to the leader. In front of them was the Kenyan military which had surrounded the rebels’ last holdout. The barricade had been up for months now, and they had carefully cordoned the region off from receiving support.
The Kenyan forces were quite loose and not too vigilant. As a result, these war correspondents were able to get closer.
The Frenchman in the lead nodded, and they moved a little further away to find a good filming spot.
“Sir, what’s that sound?”
One of the young Frenchman perked up his ears and signaled for silence. Then the men looked toward the Kenyan government garrison. It didn’t take long to discover the source of the raucous.
In a square of the garrison, thousands of thin people wearing ragged clothing were kneeling on the ground. Surrounding them were hundreds of soldiers who were whipping at them fiercely. The young, old, male, and female alike were all subjected to inhumane oppression.
Their bodies were thin and malnourished. There was a crying child trying to suck on its mother’s deflated breasts. The mother cried and endured the beating while shielding the baby.
The people were on their knees, praying as they endured the abuse and laughter from the government troops who seemed to be happy at the cruelty that was occurring at their hands. Not far away, many bodies had also been piled up.
There were also soldiers in the government army who couldn’t stand to do such a thing, but they couldn’t do anything under the orders of the higher-ups. They could only raise the whip numbly and mechanically did what they were told.
“What era are we living in to still have such things happen! This is simply a concentration camp!”
Seeing this cruelty, the French woman did not dare look as grief filled her eyes. The leader even stood up and wanted to rush out, but he was stopped by his colleagues.
“Leader, don’t be too impulsive. It’s useless even if you rush out. No matter what country we are from, those guys would not care about it. If we are found, they could just set us up as spies and execute us. The best we can do is take pictures of the citation here and show it to the world, hoping that public opinion could help those poor people.”
“Yeah, sir, do not get agitated. We can’t do anything— these bastards are simply fascists. Those people being abused are simply civilians, simply poor people. These bastards are having fun with abuse!”
“So many of those abused are Christians. Sigh…”
“I heard that Sister Mirda has been working to help these poor people. It’s normal for them to be baptized as Christians under Sister Mirda’s benevolence.”
Saying so, three people looked at their leader, for their leader was a devout Christian.
Sure enough, this man in his thirties with a dirty face was holding onto a cross tightly at this moment. He prayed for those poor suffering people, and after a long time, he said, “When we get back, we have to send what we filmed to headquarters. They should be able to use the fastest speed to pose these videos. If headquarters does not do it, then I will post them myself!”
“But you might get fired from the agency for posting without consent.” someone whispered.
“Look at those people’s appearance. This is simply slaughter - an atrocity!. If the agency does not dare share this because of political reasons, then I would rather not stay. What’s the point of my future? Is it not our duty to report the cruelty and the injustice being done by war? Aren’t we doing this so that more people could be saved!”
The Frenchman shouted in a low voice. His righteous attitude made the three of them not dare look at him.
This world was simply not short of brave and kind people with a sense of justice.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
Suddenly, not far from this camp, the sound of chanting echoes. The voice was distinct and loud. It even carried an air of holiness.
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The French war correspondents looked in the direction of the other side of the camp and were surprised. For a while, they felt as if they were in a trance as if they were in Vatican Cathedral being healed by the holiness as their physical fatigue was reduced to nothing by the sound of the holy song.
The Kenyan government troops in the camp also stopped what they were doing. They looked towards the entrance of the camp with astonishment.
Then, everyone saw a barefooted man wearing a linen robe walking slowly. Each step he took left a deep footprint. The man looked ordinary but full of grief and benevolence which was extremely contradictory. He walked slowly with each step as if he was bearing the sins of the world. However, each step he took seemed as if he had walked several meters.
Behind the man were a dozen nuns who walked reverently following the man’s footprint. As if by doing so, they would be able to understand goodness and righteousness, as if they would be able to feel the Lord in Christ.
Behind the nuns were hundreds of thousands of ragged people. They looked thin but their bodies were clean and without any scars. They lowered their heads and prayed while following the man as if they were not facing the cruel Kenyan government troops, but instead a sacred path.
Everyone who witnessed it was shocked and felt the holiness of the scene.
Four mud-covered Frenchmen walked through the Kenyan forests. So far they had braved muddy roads, rapid rivers, and the inconveniences of being away from civilized society. They carried compact video equipment in their hands and hid inside thick foliage.
“We’re almost there. Almost there. Try to hold on a bit longer, everyone.”
The Frenchman in the lead looked to be in his thirties. He wiped a smudge of mud from his face and panted.
Behind him were his three comrades. Two of them were men and the final member was a woman.
They were all employees of the Agence France-Presse (AFP) and engaged in one of the world’s most dangerous professions - war correspondence!
These war correspondents walked through the rains of bullets to bring back information from the frontlines of war to the rest of the world. It could be said that these people were incredibly brave, and they had done countless services for human awareness. Naturally, there were also many reporters who had died on the frontlines!
Kenya ranked 128th out of 180 countries in the corruption perceptions index, and recent scandals had galvanized civic opposition to the country’s government. Conflicts had broken out in many areas as groups rose in opposition to their oppressors. In this kind of scenario, war correspondents had a role to play.
These four brave men and women were frontline war correspondents sent by the AFP to cover the frontline situation in Kenya.
This battlefield was a doomed and futile struggle for the belligerents. Because their forces Kenyan had no money, no food, and since they weren’t backed by any foreign power, their assault was gradually dying.
Even big countries like the United States and Russia who loved to intervene abroad had turned a blind eye to the corruption and cruelty of the Kenyan leadership. And China had adhered to its policy of non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries.
These frontline war correspondents were very brave but were also quite human. They had sympathy for the poor people of Kenya, but they were also powerless to do anything about it. All they could contribute were broadcasts of the frontline situations to the rest of the world. Hopefully, this would draw in global interest ad save lives.
“We cannot advance any further. Those at the front are the Kenyan government forces.”
The only woman in the group shouted to the leader. In front of them was the Kenyan military which had surrounded the rebels’ last holdout. The barricade had been up for months now, and they had carefully cordoned the region off from receiving support.
The Kenyan forces were quite loose and not too vigilant. As a result, these war correspondents were able to get closer.
The Frenchman in the lead nodded, and they moved a little further away to find a good filming spot.
“Sir, what’s that sound?”
One of the young Frenchman perked up his ears and signaled for silence. Then the men looked toward the Kenyan government garrison. It didn’t take long to discover the source of the raucous.
In a square of the garrison, thousands of thin people wearing ragged clothing were kneeling on the ground. Surrounding them were hundreds of soldiers who were whipping at them fiercely. The young, old, male, and female alike were all subjected to inhumane oppression.
Their bodies were thin and malnourished. There was a crying child trying to suck on its mother’s deflated breasts. The mother cried and endured the beating while shielding the baby.
The people were on their knees, praying as they endured the abuse and laughter from the government troops who seemed to be happy at the cruelty that was occurring at their hands. Not far away, many bodies had also been piled up.
There were also soldiers in the government army who couldn’t stand to do such a thing, but they couldn’t do anything under the orders of the higher-ups. They could only raise the whip numbly and mechanically did what they were told.
“What era are we living in to still have such things happen! This is simply a concentration camp!”
Seeing this cruelty, the French woman did not dare look as grief filled her eyes. The leader even stood up and wanted to rush out, but he was stopped by his colleagues.
“Leader, don’t be too impulsive. It’s useless even if you rush out. No matter what country we are from, those guys would not care about it. If we are found, they could just set us up as spies and execute us. The best we can do is take pictures of the citation here and show it to the world, hoping that public opinion could help those poor people.”
“Yeah, sir, do not get agitated. We can’t do anything— these bastards are simply fascists. Those people being abused are simply civilians, simply poor people. These bastards are having fun with abuse!”
“So many of those abused are Christians. Sigh…”
“I heard that Sister Mirda has been working to help these poor people. It’s normal for them to be baptized as Christians under Sister Mirda’s benevolence.”
Saying so, three people looked at their leader, for their leader was a devout Christian.
Sure enough, this man in his thirties with a dirty face was holding onto a cross tightly at this moment. He prayed for those poor suffering people, and after a long time, he said, “When we get back, we have to send what we filmed to headquarters. They should be able to use the fastest speed to pose these videos. If headquarters does not do it, then I will post them myself!”
“But you might get fired from the agency for posting without consent.” someone whispered.
“Look at those people’s appearance. This is simply slaughter - an atrocity!. If the agency does not dare share this because of political reasons, then I would rather not stay. What’s the point of my future? Is it not our duty to report the cruelty and the injustice being done by war? Aren’t we doing this so that more people could be saved!”
The Frenchman shouted in a low voice. His righteous attitude made the three of them not dare look at him.
This world was simply not short of brave and kind people with a sense of justice.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
Suddenly, not far from this camp, the sound of chanting echoes. The voice was distinct and loud. It even carried an air of holiness.
We are hosted novel, find us on google.
The French war correspondents looked in the direction of the other side of the camp and were surprised. For a while, they felt as if they were in a trance as if they were in Vatican Cathedral being healed by the holiness as their physical fatigue was reduced to nothing by the sound of the holy song.
The Kenyan government troops in the camp also stopped what they were doing. They looked towards the entrance of the camp with astonishment.
Then, everyone saw a barefooted man wearing a linen robe walking slowly. Each step he took left a deep footprint. The man looked ordinary but full of grief and benevolence which was extremely contradictory. He walked slowly with each step as if he was bearing the sins of the world. However, each step he took seemed as if he had walked several meters.
Behind the man were a dozen nuns who walked reverently following the man’s footprint. As if by doing so, they would be able to understand goodness and righteousness, as if they would be able to feel the Lord in Christ.
Behind the nuns were hundreds of thousands of ragged people. They looked thin but their bodies were clean and without any scars. They lowered their heads and prayed while following the man as if they were not facing the cruel Kenyan government troops, but instead a sacred path.
Everyone who witnessed it was shocked and felt the holiness of the scene.
