12-31-2025, 08:32 PM
Communications 1, 1-30: “You will return to the land of creation and harmonious being once your flock has chosen to live a life free of sin, in orderly and harmonious being.”
Kareem Galendez was 17 years old when the first explosion rocked his cramped childhood home in the Al-Kanhur district of Kaijan City. It wouldn't be the last. Kareem was a high school student, studying for his college entrance exams, when the room he shared with his two younger sisters shook.
“Yasina,” he yelled at his sister
“Get under the table,” Kareem said as he crawled under his desk.
“Where is Rosalina?” Yasina said from under the bed as the shaking stopped
Kareem realized it wasn’t an earthquake. He remembered the stories of his parents and grandparents. At his high school, a large public Islamic boys school known as Al-Muealim Boys School (AMBS), there had been mumblings of something happening. There was a group of boys who were troublemakers, they yelled at random girls and women in public wearing hijabs and were unserious about education. And why should they? Their classes barely covered any of the material required on the NCE Exam. Kareem had dreams of being a doctor, one widely supported by his parents and family. A doctor’s salary in a city like San Jose, New Liverpool or even Victoria City could get his family out of poverty. An acceptance to any university wouldn’t cut it either, the five-year program at Henry Lam College could get him working sooner and help support his sister's education.
“Kareem, you okay, nintoy”
“Yes, mother. Where is Rosalina?”
“She was in the bathroom, she is scared Kareem” his mother said as she opened the kitchen window.
“You seem surprisingly, calm”
“I didn’t want you to grow up like this, tifili” his mother said as she returned to chopping up veggies
“You grew in the Great War, you're not scared. Is it happening again?”
“Nintoy, I don't want you to waste your mind. How is your studying?”
A few moments later, Kareem’s father Hamadi opened the door to their apartment
“Salamat Jalang, Kareem” Hamadi said, carrying his toolbox
“Did you see the explosion?”
“No, although a few guys at the shop talked about an explosion at Al-Koura Market.”
“I don’t want you or your sisters going near there, nintoy” Kareem’s mother yelled from the kitchen over the sound of chicken cooking.
“We have to remain strong, Kareem. These days will be hard” Hamadi said as he half-hugged his wife
“I want you to walk your sisters to school on Monday” Hamadi
“Did you already talk with Mom?”
“No, but we have done this before. From 63’ to 67’”
The attack at Al-Koura wasn’t just a random explosion but one with a dozen organized by the Kaijanese Islamic Liberation Front (KILF). Now, politicians were talking about war. At AMBS, the next day it was all anyone could talk about. Some talked about war, some talked about how most of the victims were non-Kaijanese, and some even quietly praised the attack. For a young man growing up in Kaijan, you could forget about the national government. Corruption prevented governmental aid from being truly effective, hospitals provided the bare minimum, and even the modern Kaijan City Metro was constantly crowded. As the day turned into weeks, the situation became more volatile. More young men leaving to take up arms, more federal offices and federal workers being attacked, more police, and more military. It was a cycle of aggression that eventually turned to violence.
For Kareem, the call never appeared to him. He was on a different path. Initially, hoping to attend the University of Kaijan, the institution had become a battleground as the university fell into disrepair. On an admissions tour, just a few days before the first federal troops deployed and the first bombs dropped, Kareem saw a broken dream, initially founded in the 1830s, for a short-lived Republic of Kaijan, the institution was built to be a proud symbol of the region’s excellence. To keep the talented Kaijanese youth within the region and be a part of the common success. Yet it was in desperate need of repairs and functioned more as an engine pumping out degrees in drab brutalist towers and sweaty classrooms than a place of progress. As they walked across campus, Kareem passed by at least two political demonstrations, which the tour guide simply waved away as “examples of student involvement on campus”. Yet the messages were dangerous, a return to Islamic law, revisions to when Kaijan was for Kaijanese people only. The Minjian elites, who were responsible for everything wrong and were plotting the island’s downfall. Kareem couldn’t stay.
Yet many years later after living in New Liverpool for several years he returned to what he believed was a different Kaijan. Peace was achieved, there were promising infrastructure developments, there was even a Minister of Kaijanese Affairs who reported directly to both the President and the Prime Minister. Surely, change was bound to occur in Slokais’s most turbulent dominion.
“Governor Galendez, good to see you”
Governor Kareem Galendez sat in his office, a comfortable yet secure office on the top floor of the Kaijan Executive Building, a mid-sized grey building in the center of the lush surroundings of the Garden District of Kaijan City. Today, the governor had been called to a meeting of Joint Force Kaijan (JFK), a military and political umbrella which had dictated affairs in the regions of Kaijan which were considered turbulent. The video call consisted of Governor Galendez, Governor Mohamed Quinzon of South Kaijan, Carolina Morales, press secretary for President Weasley, and the new commander of Security Force Kaijan-6 (SFK-6), John Paul Galvez. Galvez’s tactics were bold, essentially taking risks and figuring everything out later. Something he had shown in his prior service as a regional commander in prior SFK’s, which were all essentially the same military presence just under different responsibilities. The newest SFK-6, was a final stab by the Weasley Administration to try and clean up the conflict, or at least enough for President Weasley to dig herself out of an approval rating’s grave before next year’s election.
Kareem was extremely skeptical of its success, even less than others. It was structured around greater deployments in urban areas as opposed to crushing what was essentially a weakening Kaijan League in rural areas and instead daring the many sympathetic groups which had emerged in the last 5 years to try and do something.
“Good to see all of you as well, good to meet you for the first time Commander Galvez” he said as he grabbed the prepared documents his staff had collected.
“Thank you, Governor. Let us begin the meeting” Press Secretary Morales said. She was acting as a liaison for the aging and often ill Weasely, although she insisted the President was extremely busy.
“First of all, I would like all of you to review the new SFK directive” Commander Galvez said
Each of the persons on the call grabbed their own copy of the thin binder.
“It outlines my vision and the President's vision for security and development. Unless there are any questions we can move on”
“Hold, on” Governor Quinzon stated
“Yes, Governor?” Morales said
“There are at least a dozen things here which are incorrect or inaccurate. Your team still has work to do”
“We don’t have time for pleasantries, when there are terrorists walking around” Commander Galvez said, his large frame filling the screen.
“There isn’t violence for no reason, Commander. And this plan essentially punishes all Kaijanese people”
“Governor, didn’t 65% of people in your province support the Kaijan League’s efforts?” Morales said
“You are wrong, Madame. 65% supported independence. Independence doesn’t mean violence even if it’s sometimes acted upon through it” Kareem said
“There isn’t a discussion here. ” Galvez said, his tone changing.
“Commander, this organization is meant to be joint not simply your dictation to us” Governor Quinzon said
“Disscussion has cost many lives, delay and concerns of future problems or issues is not my concern. I’ve seen it on the ground” Commander Galvez said sternly.
“Maybe, you should open your eyes, speak to your troops. Countless operation’s violations of judicial and civil law are the reason for Kaijanese people’s aggression towards anything federal” Governor Quinzon responded
“How dare you say, I lack sight. I’ve seen the devil right in his eyes. And I’ve spit back. What have you even done!” Bosok responds angrily
“Gentlemen, we are losing the point here”, Kareem chimed in
“You are a tyrant serving a tyrant.” Governor Quinzon responded
“May you and your family soon find out what it's like to live without the brave men and women who serve this operation,” Commander Galvez said.
“Threatening my family, how dare you claim to represent public safety?”
“This is all pointless. The new directives were already filled, Kortotan tui!” Galvez said, uttering the common Slokasian insult before leaving.
“Kortotan tui, to you to”
“Expect a follow-up email from our office. If you fail to follow the new directives, the President has little choice but to take legal action. Goodbye!” Press Secretary Morales said, her signature smile still filling her face. As if the last couple of moments of the argument hadn’t just happened.
“May god help us,” Quinzon said
“Indeed, we should talk soon, my friend,” Kareem said
“Indeed, independence must come soon.”
Kareem Galendez was 17 years old when the first explosion rocked his cramped childhood home in the Al-Kanhur district of Kaijan City. It wouldn't be the last. Kareem was a high school student, studying for his college entrance exams, when the room he shared with his two younger sisters shook.
“Yasina,” he yelled at his sister
“Get under the table,” Kareem said as he crawled under his desk.
“Where is Rosalina?” Yasina said from under the bed as the shaking stopped
Kareem realized it wasn’t an earthquake. He remembered the stories of his parents and grandparents. At his high school, a large public Islamic boys school known as Al-Muealim Boys School (AMBS), there had been mumblings of something happening. There was a group of boys who were troublemakers, they yelled at random girls and women in public wearing hijabs and were unserious about education. And why should they? Their classes barely covered any of the material required on the NCE Exam. Kareem had dreams of being a doctor, one widely supported by his parents and family. A doctor’s salary in a city like San Jose, New Liverpool or even Victoria City could get his family out of poverty. An acceptance to any university wouldn’t cut it either, the five-year program at Henry Lam College could get him working sooner and help support his sister's education.
“Kareem, you okay, nintoy”
“Yes, mother. Where is Rosalina?”
“She was in the bathroom, she is scared Kareem” his mother said as she opened the kitchen window.
“You seem surprisingly, calm”
“I didn’t want you to grow up like this, tifili” his mother said as she returned to chopping up veggies
“You grew in the Great War, you're not scared. Is it happening again?”
“Nintoy, I don't want you to waste your mind. How is your studying?”
A few moments later, Kareem’s father Hamadi opened the door to their apartment
“Salamat Jalang, Kareem” Hamadi said, carrying his toolbox
“Did you see the explosion?”
“No, although a few guys at the shop talked about an explosion at Al-Koura Market.”
“I don’t want you or your sisters going near there, nintoy” Kareem’s mother yelled from the kitchen over the sound of chicken cooking.
“We have to remain strong, Kareem. These days will be hard” Hamadi said as he half-hugged his wife
“I want you to walk your sisters to school on Monday” Hamadi
“Did you already talk with Mom?”
“No, but we have done this before. From 63’ to 67’”
The attack at Al-Koura wasn’t just a random explosion but one with a dozen organized by the Kaijanese Islamic Liberation Front (KILF). Now, politicians were talking about war. At AMBS, the next day it was all anyone could talk about. Some talked about war, some talked about how most of the victims were non-Kaijanese, and some even quietly praised the attack. For a young man growing up in Kaijan, you could forget about the national government. Corruption prevented governmental aid from being truly effective, hospitals provided the bare minimum, and even the modern Kaijan City Metro was constantly crowded. As the day turned into weeks, the situation became more volatile. More young men leaving to take up arms, more federal offices and federal workers being attacked, more police, and more military. It was a cycle of aggression that eventually turned to violence.
For Kareem, the call never appeared to him. He was on a different path. Initially, hoping to attend the University of Kaijan, the institution had become a battleground as the university fell into disrepair. On an admissions tour, just a few days before the first federal troops deployed and the first bombs dropped, Kareem saw a broken dream, initially founded in the 1830s, for a short-lived Republic of Kaijan, the institution was built to be a proud symbol of the region’s excellence. To keep the talented Kaijanese youth within the region and be a part of the common success. Yet it was in desperate need of repairs and functioned more as an engine pumping out degrees in drab brutalist towers and sweaty classrooms than a place of progress. As they walked across campus, Kareem passed by at least two political demonstrations, which the tour guide simply waved away as “examples of student involvement on campus”. Yet the messages were dangerous, a return to Islamic law, revisions to when Kaijan was for Kaijanese people only. The Minjian elites, who were responsible for everything wrong and were plotting the island’s downfall. Kareem couldn’t stay.
Yet many years later after living in New Liverpool for several years he returned to what he believed was a different Kaijan. Peace was achieved, there were promising infrastructure developments, there was even a Minister of Kaijanese Affairs who reported directly to both the President and the Prime Minister. Surely, change was bound to occur in Slokais’s most turbulent dominion.
“Governor Galendez, good to see you”
Governor Kareem Galendez sat in his office, a comfortable yet secure office on the top floor of the Kaijan Executive Building, a mid-sized grey building in the center of the lush surroundings of the Garden District of Kaijan City. Today, the governor had been called to a meeting of Joint Force Kaijan (JFK), a military and political umbrella which had dictated affairs in the regions of Kaijan which were considered turbulent. The video call consisted of Governor Galendez, Governor Mohamed Quinzon of South Kaijan, Carolina Morales, press secretary for President Weasley, and the new commander of Security Force Kaijan-6 (SFK-6), John Paul Galvez. Galvez’s tactics were bold, essentially taking risks and figuring everything out later. Something he had shown in his prior service as a regional commander in prior SFK’s, which were all essentially the same military presence just under different responsibilities. The newest SFK-6, was a final stab by the Weasley Administration to try and clean up the conflict, or at least enough for President Weasley to dig herself out of an approval rating’s grave before next year’s election.
Kareem was extremely skeptical of its success, even less than others. It was structured around greater deployments in urban areas as opposed to crushing what was essentially a weakening Kaijan League in rural areas and instead daring the many sympathetic groups which had emerged in the last 5 years to try and do something.
“Good to see all of you as well, good to meet you for the first time Commander Galvez” he said as he grabbed the prepared documents his staff had collected.
“Thank you, Governor. Let us begin the meeting” Press Secretary Morales said. She was acting as a liaison for the aging and often ill Weasely, although she insisted the President was extremely busy.
“First of all, I would like all of you to review the new SFK directive” Commander Galvez said
Each of the persons on the call grabbed their own copy of the thin binder.
“It outlines my vision and the President's vision for security and development. Unless there are any questions we can move on”
“Hold, on” Governor Quinzon stated
“Yes, Governor?” Morales said
“There are at least a dozen things here which are incorrect or inaccurate. Your team still has work to do”
“We don’t have time for pleasantries, when there are terrorists walking around” Commander Galvez said, his large frame filling the screen.
“There isn’t violence for no reason, Commander. And this plan essentially punishes all Kaijanese people”
“Governor, didn’t 65% of people in your province support the Kaijan League’s efforts?” Morales said
“You are wrong, Madame. 65% supported independence. Independence doesn’t mean violence even if it’s sometimes acted upon through it” Kareem said
“There isn’t a discussion here. ” Galvez said, his tone changing.
“Commander, this organization is meant to be joint not simply your dictation to us” Governor Quinzon said
“Disscussion has cost many lives, delay and concerns of future problems or issues is not my concern. I’ve seen it on the ground” Commander Galvez said sternly.
“Maybe, you should open your eyes, speak to your troops. Countless operation’s violations of judicial and civil law are the reason for Kaijanese people’s aggression towards anything federal” Governor Quinzon responded
“How dare you say, I lack sight. I’ve seen the devil right in his eyes. And I’ve spit back. What have you even done!” Bosok responds angrily
“Gentlemen, we are losing the point here”, Kareem chimed in
“You are a tyrant serving a tyrant.” Governor Quinzon responded
“May you and your family soon find out what it's like to live without the brave men and women who serve this operation,” Commander Galvez said.
“Threatening my family, how dare you claim to represent public safety?”
“This is all pointless. The new directives were already filled, Kortotan tui!” Galvez said, uttering the common Slokasian insult before leaving.
“Kortotan tui, to you to”
“Expect a follow-up email from our office. If you fail to follow the new directives, the President has little choice but to take legal action. Goodbye!” Press Secretary Morales said, her signature smile still filling her face. As if the last couple of moments of the argument hadn’t just happened.
“May god help us,” Quinzon said
“Indeed, we should talk soon, my friend,” Kareem said
“Indeed, independence must come soon.”
<t>The Federation of Slokais Islands- fighting for freedom and democracy</t>