Hope for Dunblane
In evergreen memory of our beloved
children of Dunblane Primary School,
Scotland: United Kingdom!
Ugonna Wachuku
(c) March 1996
__
Contents
__
Dedication
Prologue
Part One:
D:
Victoria: at dawn
Emma: innocent face
U:
Melissa: bells toll
Charlotte: harmless smiles
N:
Kevin: You walked our streets
Ross: to the brilliant gardens
B:
David: tell it on the mountain?
Mhairi: evening walk without you
Part Two:
L:
Brett: sweet, little love
Abigail: on the green earth
A:
Emily: in search of you
Sophie: I remember you
N:
John: your soiled napkin
Joanna: in my tears
E:
Hannah: child of peaceful Dunblane
Megan: my memories of you
Part Three:
Smiles and hope
What monstrous hatred?
Epilogue
The Author
__
Dedication
__
In unfailing memory of
our 16, 5 years old kids
murdered by Thomas Hamilton
at Dunblane Primary School
Scotland on wednesday 13
March, 1996;
an eternal tribute to their
noble teacher who was shot
defending the children;
a message of hope and love
to mourning parents and families;
a loving homage of caring
love to the 12 kids and 2
teachers wounded;
to all humankind who have
learnt from, and dared to
be wounded by the bloody
tears of Dunblane!!!
__
Prologue
__
"Blessed are they that mourn;
for they shall be comforted."
~Mattthew 5: 4
"Blessed be God, even the Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
Father of all mercies and the
God of all comfort:
Who comforts us in all our
tribulation, that we may be
able to comfort them which
are in any trouble, by the
comfort wherewith we
ourselves are comforted
of God."
~2 Corinthians 1: 3-4
The shock stills! The coldness dumbs! The reality
blatantly unfathomable! The tragic truth of humanity's
age old bizarreness sneaked in on the historic small town
of Dunblane, Scotland, on wednesday 13 March 1996, when
a lone gunman made his way into Dunblane Primary School
and in stacatto bursts of gun fire murdered 16 five year
old kids and their teacher. 12 other kids and 2 teachers
were wounded.
When the reality of this news dawned on me, my world
stood breathless. For fleeting seconds, I thought I
was gonna wake up from my dream and see that it was not
true. But then, I fainttingly realized that I was rather
dreaming with my eyes wide open! The evergreen garden
of the blooming respect and love I have for children
all over the world had been deeply stained by the
cold blood of humankind's death-weapon. White walls
of my yearning for a better world for our earth's children,
our tomorrow's people, crumbled into streams of tears
and blinding sorrow as death quaked its loving grounds
with a gun-man's hand. Tears rolled down my face in dry
shriek. It was, in its own manner, yet another monstrous
atrocity, blatantly unique, in mankind's march through
this troubled world.
Remembering that two months from the 13 of March, it
would be the United Nations declared International Day
of Families - 15 May, 1996, I bitterly wept for Dunblane.
I cried for humanity!
Then, in my deep-felt sorrow, I realized that 1995-2005
is the United Nations decade for human rights education.
The question of what rights the child has to life, liberty
and security haunted my weary being. This brought me to
the brink of accepting that in many ways, humankind have
failed our children, our hope for the nations, our future!
This book is as a result of my soulful tears and contrite heart.
This is my loving and healing hope for Dunblane because
violence to children anywhere is violence to me personally!
Ugonna Wachuku
Wednesday 27 March, 1996
Loex: Bernex Commune
Geneva, Switzerland
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Part one:
__
"If I can help somebody
as I pass along, if I
can cheer somebody with
a word or song...then,
my living will not be
in vain."
~Martin Luther King, Jr.
D:
at dawn:
Victoria Clydesdale:
at dawn, clouds began
to gather over your
little, sleepy town -
these clouds of death
defied those streams
of peace in you:
They overlooked the
beauty of your innocent
smiles.
The forgot the warmness
of your innocence.
These clouds of death
did not bother to see
the unspeakable love
in your eyes.
Latter that morning,
these clouds brought
in more thicks of
darkness; waiting to
bring the healthy
light you've always
known to an end.
You never knew!
Afterwards, the rains
came from these dark
clouds.
But these rains were
not form heaven's nature.
They came from one of
us - a gun man who defied
families and humanity -
a gunman who believed
you had no right to
live and be educated.
His bullets cut you
down. Yet, we refuse
to see you die.
We refuse to end
the sweet smiles you
gave; even in our
battered memories.
You left home with
hope and love for
a better day. But
valiant Vicky, your
day ended in tears.
Our world stood still.
Our breath fizzled out;
while earth's streams
flowed without life.
Our wretched world
ended with your death.
Our tears continue even
with blue clouds and
the rainy rainbow.
Now, we dream of your
loving laughter.
We dream of your calm
screams through the
welcoming day.
Ehen finally, we wake
up, we shall still dream
of you, Victoria because
those smiles in your
eyes will linger
forever
while
our
dreams
of
you
trails
our
left
d
a
y
s
.
.
.
.
.
.
Innocent Face:
Emma Crozier:
Your innocent face
shown around the
world stopped us
on the road to life.
Your endless twinkle
snuffed out stars
in our skies and
brought daylight.
Yet you were cut
down before you
could ask why?
Beloved Emma, you
were hot to death
even in the peaceful
state of your simple
soul so calm and
trusting.
Nobody seemed to care.
Humanity left you in
your innocence and
love.
And death could not
wait to take you
away from us, Emma!
Death walked your
trusting path and
mine unknown.
We refuse to accept
that death can take
you away. We affirm
that God will dry
your tears and ours.
Yet our tears flow
because now we deeply
understand that you
were our sweet, little
girl of love and hope.
The earth, with me,
weeps for you, emerald
Emma. Heaven bleeds
tormenting tearful
torrents because you
were our love, our
reason forc being.
Beloved Emma, you
were our future.
But death did not
bother to respect
the hope and love
you symbolized for
or empty world.
That gun of death
tracked you down
and in your own
blooming blood,
you gave up the
hope and bountiful
love within your
beautiful soul.
How I shudder to think
about towering tears
so silent in your
dying breath and mine.
Your utter disbelieve
at what was happening
to you and your class-
mates.
What soul do I have
to stand your pleading,
searching eyes?
What mortal strength
do I have to bear this
shattering burden?
Who would answer your
prying questions for
humanity, Emma?
Your innocent face
will linger forever.
Your smiles.
Your enchanting,
little laughter!
Emma, just remember,
you are my hero.
You were our love.
Now, you are
God's
caring
A
n
g
e
l
__
U:
bells toll:
Melissa Currie:
Now, the bells toll for
you. The bells toll to
welcome earth's herald
of your little body,
Melissa!
This is no wedding bell
in the country church
yard. This is no
christening ceremony...
:::::::
:::::::
From my long-hand collection:
Hope for Dunblane
Ugonna Wachuku
(c) March 1996
Geneva: Switzerland
This conjures up vivid memories of a world stunned by a massacre of the innocent.`What monstrous hate?` This is a real expression of human empathy[by one who wonders why mankind is redolent of abberations].
milton
I found myself totally overwhelmed by this. We see these tragedies through the eyes of the press & the eyes of the world, but, we do not see it through the eyes of the one who died. Your insight is inspiring. Your tribute is one to be cherished by all who read this piece. Amy
Gentle is the night♥