Dead Lions Don’t Roar.

“For the sake of next year’s election, we need to do this Mister President” The special adviser to the president. The room went silent, sited on the round table are high-ranking politicians and military personals. I felt like bagging into the room and killing everyone them, port bellied idiots, it would be considered treason, at this point, I no longer care. I will be doing this country a lot of good.

The president rose to his feet with his wine glass in the air. “May their soul’s rest in peace” “Amen,” the room echoed.

They are drinking to our death, men of little faith.

“Operation Cobra Dance is a go” the IGP shouted, half drunk.


I shivered as the icy air hit me with a force enough to kill a cow, it pierced my khaki, cutting deep into my bones. “The cold in the north at night, it’s not from this world.” It has been a while Makinde left me to go get firewood.

“It’s safer if one of us went!”

“But smarter, if we went together,” I countered.

“You are weak and wounded, you stay back, keep watch over the others, they will rest well knowing one of us is with them,” He ran out into the sunset.

I cling at my assault riffle as the wind came with another frontier assault. “Operation Cobra Dance, my foot,” I said through clenched teeth. We have been at war with the extremists for over a year, we made no progress, and they think a ten men special force can get it done in three months, before the campaigns start, FOOLS!

I clawed at the squad name on my khaki jacket, until it tore off. “Lion Squad,” it reads, they should see us now, we are no different from sheep’s.

I didn’t hear Makinde walk up to me, “Dead Lions Don’t Roar” I jumped at the sound of his voice, “Never forget your watchword soldier, most importantly don’t forget why you are on this mission.”

“In the end only the politicians gain”

“This might be a game to the politicians, but it is important we finish this mission, the masses need to have faith in the military like they once did.”

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