Before becoming a pastor, and even before arriving in Sardinia, Africa, Azuz was a ruthless mercenary in the service of kings, emperors and puppet governments set up by European powers and America. He had fought in the wars for deposits of diamonds, had been hired by oil companies to suppress the riots in northern Nigeria, had fought for Taliban insurgents during the bloody clashes in Somalia ... These circumstances, however, should not cause your outrage because Azuz was the victim rather than perpetrator, although it may seem odd at least. When he was only five years his village was destroyed by Captain Mukaba, ruthless soldier of fortune in the service of Western multinationals. The members of his family were exterminated and Mukaba took him not for compassion, but with the wicked intention of becoming a fierce warrior, a war machine ready to execute any order. Azuz was first trained hard and then sent to fight: on the battlefield is stained with a number of heinous crimes, as he had been taught its bad teachers. After years of massacres, looting, violence and destruction his mind began to waver, sounds frantic and frenetic poisoned his conscience screams insistently demanded vengeance for the victims that he himself had caused. Azuz wanted to get rid of those demons that made life unbearable for this Araàs reached the village, there lived a famous magician in the whole region for his exorcism. The words of the shaman were lapidary, and no chance to reply. If you wanted to get rid of items, Azuz had to execute their command: kill the captain Mukaba.
During a hot and humid night, when no wind blew and the night birds were waiting in a surreal silence, Azuz rose from her bed to go quietly into the cabin of the captain. In his hands clutching a sharpened machete, the same who had repeatedly used to injure, behead, maim. The bottom of the blade was illuminated by the comforting rays the moon, the passage of Azuz was swift and decisive as the spirits repeatedly ordered him to hurry. When he arrived before the curtain carefully cut the fabric, and past the hole es'avventò decided on the body of the captain. Following a brief struggle they cut his head with a sharp blow, and it rolled on the floor like a pumpkin drop from the hands of a child. The voices instantly subsided, the demons left her soul as death lay on the black cloak torn corpse of the captain. Azuz rose from the dead body and took a deep breath. Only then was free at last ... the silence that dominated the night he was surprised by its depth. He decided to go away bringing with them some weapons of the master, but as he was crossing the opening he saw two diamonds shine in the dark. Two diamonds that glowed like fire, two diamonds that had the features of eyes were scared, but still loads of extreme hatred. Mukaba that night was not just because a woman of the tribe Kavaswy had rested at his side. "She's a murderer should be killed," thought the boy, a clear resolution as the clear waters of the river in the morning. Azuz took a step forward, with his left hand grabbed her hair and raised his machete with his right hand, ready to sever his head, ready to give her the same fate his murderous lover. An overwhelming feeling, however, caught him, an intuition of the soul that crept in each specific atom of his body. Azuz was fatally tired blood, too many eyes were turned off for ever before her. He released his grip, sank for the last time his eyes in those of the trembling woman, and then dropped the machete still stained with the Warmblood. It readily crosses the hole of the tent, to be swallowed up again by the same darkness that had given birth. While sinking into the mud he heard the screams of women rend the night, he saw the glow of headlights pierce the darkness and shadows to run to the tent of the captain. Then he heard the shots, some more screaming, rabid dogs barking, men stir wildly. This does not bother him at all, because he was already in the swamp, where no one could catch him, where no hound could smell the smell.
Azuz knew he had to flee, because if the men had taken the first Mukaba would have tortured, and only then would grant unprecedented torments him to death. He did not know exactly where to run, had not brought anything with them, and that night many opportunities presented themselves in his mind. This continued flow of images until they saw the next morning, a huge line of people walked silently to an unknown destination. Azuz approached, and thanks to a Congolese discovered that the melancholy procession was headed for the port of Adith, where a ship waiting to sail to Europe. The mercenary did not even know where it was placed this Europe, sometimes the massacres had done to Germans, Italians or French, all Europeans, but had never asked where he was a goddamn Europe. To tell the truth, Azuz did not even know where it was Africa, but knowing it would not have helped save his life. What mattered was to escape as soon as possible and away, and the best way to do this was to be united a compact that human cord on that surreal procession of hapless born in the name of hope. Without asking any questions so he joined the caravan, and after traveling hundreds of miles arrived exhausted before the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Only the port was able to board that would require much money, but for someone like him this could not be a problem. For Adith would easily be procured, it was a busy port and had no problem to have right about some absent-minded European tourists, recklessly ran into one of the narrow and dark alleys of the harbor district. Might have obtained the necessary without killing anyone, but would certainly have done if this was the price of his freedom. Azuz, however, did not know what was the actual value of freedom, until he saw the ship that would carry the "safe" ports. It was a battered and rusted scrap, which seemed suitable only for reclining on the soft seabed. Overflowing with people in every part, someone was clinging to the banisters, while others continued to rise as desperate souls are ready to cross the threshold of Hell. There was no room to even breathe, and the sun was beating down strongly on the heads of men, women and children, both educated in the suffering that not even imagine leaving to go to any crying child.
The barrels of drinking water were exhausted even before leaving the port, but when all seemed lost a bored God granted an unexpected rain to replenish supplies. However the rain soon followed the storm, where the waves were advancing grandiose as reinforced concrete walls suitable for the mockery of flagellar boat, running as the corpse of a soldier left in the ditch of a trench into disuse. During the storm, several people were swallowed by the sea, many lost their lives after being flogged on the balustrades creaking of the ship, while others died trying to save their children or their wives. The tub, however, did not sink and was miraculously afloat, dangling like a giant cork. Survivors shed bitter tears for their loved ones, aware of having been spared, but deprived of any connection to rejoice. Azuz warned the death very close but did not suffer, because the battlefield had been accustomed to cope with danger, and thanks to the murderous madness of Mukaba had lost all persons for whom it was worth crying. When he saw a child who was watching the arms of her dead mother, however, an emotion's aggressive rend the heart, a feeling that had become unaccustomed, but which now walked away with his usual toughness. While the financial police escorted them to the port of Lampedusa, he tried the same child between the castaways did not see him. He was probably dead because of the hardships, or perhaps he had managed to survive, prepared to face his odyssey as a former mercenary was ready to face her.
After several days of brutal captivity Azuz escaped from the CPT, which certainly did not seem a place of first asylum for immigrants but rather a small concentration camp martial. For some years he lived in Campania, used in the vast countryside along with the southern Africans, Romanians and Slavs. He also worked in an underground factory, whose owners were Chinese in the pay of the Camorra, which imposed pace of work schedules and exhausting. After a few months was ghettoized in a basement English neighborhoods of Naples, then forced to flee again because involved in a feud between gangs for control of the prostitution market. Azuz was a weapons expert, a legacy of his former profession of fighter, and his ability was keenly noted by the Edwards family, which hired for a job easier and less tiring than the killer. Azuz had sworn to himself that he would never kill innocent people, but they are guilty regardless of the Camorra, and although it is not the place immediately understood what was the sinister activities of a Camorra: blackmail, exploit, use the bullies who do not is able to defend themselves. Killing someone was a pleasure, no matter if it was the same for other Camorra crime ... The Edwards family, in any event, it was almost exterminated by the Branca family, and Azuz also had to leave from Naples to escape the vengeance of the new masters of the English quarters.
After several days of brutal captivity Azuz escaped from the CPT, which certainly did not seem a place of first asylum for immigrants but rather a small concentration camp martial. For some years he lived in Campania, used in the vast countryside along with the southern Africans, Romanians and Slavs. He also worked in an underground factory, whose owners were Chinese in the pay of the Camorra, which imposed pace of work schedules and exhausting. After a few months was ghettoized in a basement English neighborhoods of Naples, then forced to flee again because involved in a feud between gangs for control of the prostitution market. Azuz was a weapons expert, a legacy of his former profession of fighter, and his ability was keenly noted by the Edwards family, which hired for a job easier and less tiring than the killer. Azuz had sworn to himself that he would never kill innocent people, but they are guilty regardless of the Camorra, and although it is not the place immediately understood what was the sinister activities of a Camorra: blackmail, exploit, use the bullies who do not is able to defend themselves. Killing someone was a pleasure, no matter if it was the same for other Camorra crime ... The Edwards family, in any event, it was almost exterminated by the Branca family, and Azuz also had to leave from Naples to escape the vengeance of the new masters of the English quarters.
In his wanderings he met the young African very different from that imagined an Italy, an Italy selfish, that he had no intention of accepting it and would have preferred to see him drown in the cold waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. A nation where resurrecting an anachronistic racism, where the fear of the other was fed by a political propaganda and hypocritical liar. Persons with the usually observed suspicion, no one dared a gesture of help, sometimes he was even assaulted, as happened in the crowded train station in Florence. Some guys from skinheads wanted to have fun at his expense, but things went very differently than it had wanted. When he was hired to Mukaba, Azuz had learned to kill and maim for the Edwards family had indeed learned a shot in the legs, and shining the boots of these young men were soon spotted their own blood. Azuz understood that the good intentions have a fair value, but men often do not allow you to achieve, especially when your skin is black, and you have to cope with the Fascists and excited to come drunk.
Passing through grotesque adventures like this, Azuz realized he could not be separated from his revolver, the only family which could boast and trust. The voices began again to be felt but not as he drove past, allowing them to live as if they were old friends of childhood. Azuz has finally ended his pilgrimage to Sardinia, accompanied by a minister of my country met by chance in the countryside of Tuscany. "Come to graze my sheep," the man suggested, "are now too old to do it. I'll pay you well, you'll see, you will not regret ... "
Passing through grotesque adventures like this, Azuz realized he could not be separated from his revolver, the only family which could boast and trust. The voices began again to be felt but not as he drove past, allowing them to live as if they were old friends of childhood. Azuz has finally ended his pilgrimage to Sardinia, accompanied by a minister of my country met by chance in the countryside of Tuscany. "Come to graze my sheep," the man suggested, "are now too old to do it. I'll pay you well, you'll see, you will not regret ... "
Now our friend walking slowly between the mountains, hear the hiss of the wind, interacts closely with the spirits and looking back to his homeland where he can not yet return. He lives in absolute peace and serenity, but is always accompanied by the powerful gun with automatic loader. Several people, despite good intentions, consisting of a single language, and it is best to get to know the same language if you do not wish to become, one day, a meal for pigs.
Vincent M. D'Ascanio, 2010.
Vincent M. D'Ascanio, 2010.
