Last wednesday my research supervisor told me that he had just received terrible news about the murder of David Kato. Today was the first time I felt really sad about it - just because my first instinct is always to do, and so I have occupied myself trying to organize a candlelight vigil with members of the student organization I am in.
I wanted to write something about what David's murder means to me. But my dim anger and helpless (and unhelpful) sadness are stuck in my throat, just behind my mouth. I am mute. So it is sad Barbra Streisand songs, thick ice-cream with bits of chocolate cookies in it and my black stilleto's which still have not made their debut on the sidewalk. My head is full.
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