Life makes a fool of us

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking there is any hope,” she told me. Trust her to be brutally honest about these things.

“But I’ve just got here and there is so much to do,” I shot back.

“There is a lot for you to do but right now, do you think they would let you? I mean, think about it.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing lately, thinking and wishing my hair would not turn all grey when I wake up in the morning.”

She laughed at that. “I see you as an idealist and, at the same time, someone who have had enough exposure to people in power to understand how they operate,” she said in a lowered voice, allowing it to be muffled by the waves as we sipped our kopi.

I know what she meant. Deep down, I realised that what happened last week should have been expected and right now I am supposed to either sit tight and act like it’s business as usual or express outrage and defiance to the decision. I think they know I’d choose the latter course of action and the knowledge annoyed me more.

“How can you stand it?” I just had to ask.

“I keep reminding myself that I have a job to do, an amanah, even when I feel like packing up and just leave,” she explained.

That made sense. I just don’t know how long I can keep this up before I start to feel like not getting up in the morning to face another day of enforced silence.

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