Near Port Selao
Two hours at this and I feel like I have only 2 good questions for my final meeting with the Jackal. There are days I feel like a writer and other days, like today, where English feels like a foreign language. I’m not sure what to expect from this interview, but my gut tells me this will be significant. The Jackal made a point of declaring this the final one. Perhaps he’ll give me a window into his grand plan…if there is one.
I meet him on Tuesday so I still have a few days, but my god what’s wrong with me today? I should have pages full of questions and I can’t even scribble down topics.
I think the conflict’s been getting to me. I spend every day listening to the crack of automatic weapons in the streets. My body carries an ever-present tension expecting a bullet to the chest. I wonder if everyone feels this. And no, wearing a bullet-proof vest doesn’t really offer the comfort you might hope it would. I’ve seen dead men who were shot through the gaps in their armour. Bullets find the holes.
On another note, I’ve read your many comments. Thank you for all your concern for my safety. Believe me when I tell you that I take precautions everywhere. I don’t carry a weapon. It’s just something I cannot and will not do. The minute I do that, I cross a line. The minute I do that, my life will become even more threatened. And yes, as you’ve observed, I have decided to remain in the country to cover events. If I were to leave, I fear the story would be lost. Honestly, that’s a greater tragedy than any harm that may come my way.