On Friday everything changed.
One moment the sun blazed uncomfortably over our heads as the school principal explained the day’s proceedings during assembly. The next moment the entire school was in uproar, as a quake shook the ground and an ear-piercing explosion threw us to the floor.
In the chaos that ensued, fighter jets painted the skies with black smoke as mechanical voices echoed loud in the commotion,
“ATTENTION! ATTENTION! THIS IS NOT A DRILL. FIND COVER! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!”
The voice continued. The explosions continued. I stared up at the receding Joburg skyline. War.