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The Journey: A Short Story
The Journey: A Short Story
The Journey: A Short Story
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The Journey: A Short Story

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Mourning the death of his father, and tormented by the politics of the land, young Shami is certain of one thing: he will do what needs to be done - for the sake of his future and that of his family's.
As his family faces an uncertain future, and is plunged into a cruel world of poverty and suffering during his childhood years, he not only joins the working world but he daringly becomes politically active. Under the political regime of the time, he could face political persecution and the wrath of the state security police for engaging in political activism. He is overly protective of his mother and is aware of the sacrifices that she has to make for the sake of their fragile family and for their fellow countrymen.
They have to fight a formidable enemy - one that's intent on protecting their way of life and will go to extremes to preserve what they believe is their right. The enemy is powerful, and they have the resources to tackle any threat the activists may pose. They believe in their own brand of justice. They have no time for arrests and court cases and other long-drawn out processes of the law. Shami forms a compelling and dynamic alliance with other activists, because their enemy is not an adversary to take on alone.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 12, 2014
ISBN9781311464774
The Journey: A Short Story
Author

Harnam Shunkumar

Harnam Shunkumar, residing in a suburban area near Durban, South Africa, is a multifaceted individual with roles encompassing real estate entrepreneurship, life coaching, authorship, and his recent venture into vlogging. In addition to his online books and article contributions, he is actively engaged in ongoing projects, including the creation of more inspirational content. During his leisure time, Harnam finds enjoyment in reading the creative works of fellow authors, vlogging, delivering public speeches, honing his culinary skills, and exploring the picturesque KwaZulu/Natal south coast through travel.

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    Book preview

    The Journey - Harnam Shunkumar

    The Journey - A Short Story

    Copyright Harnam Shunkumar 2015

    Edition version 2020

    Published by Harnam Shunkumar Inspirational

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN 978 1 311 46477 4

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and

    events (with some obvious exceptions) are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Harnam Shunkumar asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this book. Thank

    you for respecting the creative work of this author.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced

    into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

    photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

    This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be

    lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, print or electronic, or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

    Table of Contents

    Prologue

    One

    Two

    Three

    Four

    Five

    Six

    Seven

    Eight

    Nine

    Ten

    About the Author

    Connect with the Author

    ‘I have fought against white domination and I have fought against black domination. I have

    cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.’ – Nelson Mandela

    The Journey - A Short Story

    Prologue

    The streets were empty, and the building loomed dauntingly as the men in black get-up crept towards it in the darkness.

    They kept out of the lit-up areas. There were four of them in total. Their identities were concealed by masks. They had semi-automatic pistols tucked into their belts. One of the men made his way into the building through the roof and breached the ceiling of the control room without any visible damage to the structure. He skilfully disabled the building’s security system. This bought them a few minutes of valuable time before the security company responded. He immediately signalled for the other three men to access the building. They swiftly and expertly planted the bombs from their black bags at strategic points within the building. Their leader was a tall muscular man. He scrutinized his watch. It was nearing dawn. The man signalled with his fingers what time to set the bombs to go off at. The bombs were of East European origin and similar bombs had already caused disaster and mayhem in other parts of the country. The men exited the building as quickly as they had entered.

    A security vehicle drove up seconds after the men had exited the building. The hefty patrolman walked around the building unenthusiastically with torch in hand and radioed his control room that all was clear then drove off. A few feet away, the men re-emerged from the shrubbery. One of the men suddenly groaned in pain.

    ‘Are you okay Mahen? Did you hurt yourself?’, the leader queried.

    ‘No. Nothing to worry about,’ responded the man who had cringed in pain. ‘It’s only a

    tummy ache that I’ve had for a few days now.’

    The leader looked at the man with compassionate eyes. He was a strict disciplinarian but not a heartless man when it came to his team. ‘If it is something you been suffering with for a few days already, you better get it checked out. It could be anything, but you will be better off checking it out.’

    At 9.45 am that morning, the post office was a hub of activity. The building was situated on the edge of an upper-class suburb. Mostly posh cars were parked alongside the street outside the post office.

    An old lady approached the parcel counter with a slip of paper. ‘Good morning my dear, I’m expecting a parcel. Can you check if it’s arrived?’ she rasped in a strong Afrikaans accent, handing the slip to the pretty blond girl across the counter.

    ‘Good morning Mrs. Pieterse,’ responded the girl with a broad smile and with a sideward glance at a colleague to her left. She received the slip of paper from the old lady. ‘Let me have a quick look and I’ll be back in a moment, see?’ The girl trotted off to the backroom.

    ‘For sure my sweetheart!’ rasped the old lady in a grating voice as the girl disappeared.

    She glanced around pryingly at the goings-on on the post office floor and in disdain at the big black lady who came in. The black lady caught her look and smiled

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