A Letter to the Hurricane
Dear Hurricano,
I address you by the proper name that we gave to you, before the
whiteman, thinking that you are always in a HURRY with a CANE ,
called you the hurricane. When we first knew you, Hurricano, we
thought of you as an angry god that needed appeasement. So we
made no little a sacrifice to pacify your anger. Yet, we found
no succor from you, and we took your manace as the destiny of
these unfortunate islands of West Indies.
Now, I am sitting in my thatched bamboo hut, shivering with
cold, my hands spread across the burning firewood on the hearth,
and my son arrives in the whiteman's ship from America, and
tells me the heart-breaking things that you are doing there. You
have transferred your fury abroad, and the land is now at war
with water.
Remember, I call you friend because we first knew you before the
coming of the Dons, before Colmbus, and before those lands that
you are now lashing your feared watery whips. Not because I
cherish your wicked acts.
For you have separated husbands from wives, children from
parents, pets from their masters. You have left your hapless
victims clinging on rooftops, trees, and mountains. Some have
entered boats and sailed to where only God knows.
You have also killed and caused griefs in many homes. You have
left widows, widowers, and orphans in your wake. What have these
victims done to you, Hurricano? If only you had husband, wife,
or children, you would have known what it is to lose a loved one.
I pity you because none shall mourn you when you pass away. And
I sympathize more with you because you do not even know whether
you are male or female. You have become a wicked nobody.
One thing about you is that you bring the good and bad in human
character when you strike. For I hear that there are now
hurricane evangelists (gospellers and devils) winning souls for
Christ; hurricane organizations (genuine and fake) soliciting
donations for victims; hurricane politicians (sincere and
insincere) playing hurricane politics; and hurricane writers
(hack and seasoned) deploring your deeds.
And more. People are deprived of their life's property and
possessions, and others in fear of you have fled to foreign
lands. Those who used to run away from war and violence, now
flee from you.
But thank God, because my son says that it is written in the big
book called the Bible, that you will soon die! I am telling you
this , now, because I know that you will not find the time to
read it, being post-haste at all times. Not only you, but your
cohorts, the cyclones, the tornadoes, and the typhoons that are
tormenting tropical inhabitants; as well as the tsunami that
swallow lands, monster tidal waves that wreck ships, and the
unpredictable Elnino current, would also perish. If you are
destined for "hell," Hurricano, theirs will be "twin hells." And
then this world would have peace.
Meanwhile, I pray for the survivors of your unwelcome visit. God
above, will give them the heart to bear their loss. Just as He
has always done to us in these islands after your call.
You know that we have been a brave and enduring race since the
days of our great warrior, Crazy Horse. We have seen currents
and waves. Our eyes saw storms and tempests. Yet our generation
refuses tto die.
I send this letter to you through my son who is returning to
America. When you receive it, know that an old friend from a
fighting tribe in the Atlantic, is out, fishing at sea, and
waiting to confront you with his banana-boat. But if we don't
meet before your death, farewell!
Your friend, Brave Heart.
ARTHUR ZULU is an editor, book reviewer, and the author of
CHASING SHADOWS! and HOW TO WRITE A BEST-SELLER. For his works,
professional services, and free helps for writers, goto:
http://controversialwriter.tripod.com Mailto:
controversialwriter@yahoo.com Web search: Arthur Zulu