Chapter 9

9 years ago:

Narrative: Kiara Washington

“Heeey y’all, this is Kiara Washington,” I began the broadcast, my voice smooth and low, “coming to you with another episode of TC-Power. And tonight, it’s just little ol’ me flying solo because—as many of you may have already heard—our sister Amara was taken into custody.”

“That’s right, you heard me,” I declared, letting the words land with gravity. “What happened was shocking indeed—Amara Bennett, a student at Ivy Towers University, was hauled off in handcuffs by campus police ... at a party.” My tone sharpened as I emphasized the injustice.

My resolve hardening as I leaned into the mic, “And you know why? I’ll tell you why, a little altercation with a white girl and a fight broke out. Someone called the police and when they came they had their guns pointed at Amara, not both, Amara.”

“Without the police knowing a damn thing! Their first instinct was to go straight for the black one. Typical!” I declared, my voice dripping with contempt. “And you know our sister has a fire that’s hard to cool down—she was up in their faces fiercely challenging those cops even when facing mortal danger.”

My voice cracked as tears blurred my vision. “That party should’ve been a celebration, not a near-murder!” I paused, composing myself before continuing, “I was terrified watching Amara confront those officers—begging her to step back when she wasn’t even the instigator. Yes, the police showed up, but they didn’t need to escalate things by aiming weapons at her face!”

“Nevertheless, I refuse to stand idly by while another black person suffers such injustice. Amara is a beautiful soul—a fearless voice fighting for all of us. So tomorrow evening, I’ve organized a rally outside the dean’s office. We’re demanding not only Amara’s immediate release but also the termination of those racist campus cops. We don’t need them.”

Yet there remained far more material to address within the hour, though I knew I had to bring attention to this matter. As Amara had astutely observed, everyday some seemingly trivial incident would explode into a crisis.

After the broadcast, as I packed up my equipment, Zuri stepped into the booth. “That was deep, Kiara,” she said earnestly, “Amara would be proud.” I nodded in agreement, adding quietly, “Thanks Zuri—it’s not over yet.”

A sudden rap sounded at the door; Zuri and I turned in unison. Recognizing Kofi’s silhouette through the glass, I rolled my eyes then gave a curt nod granting permission to enter. With that silent approval, Zuri gestured him inside.

He entered hesitantly, shoulders slumped and gaze averted. “Kiara, do you have a moment?” I nodded curtly, though inwardly I wished he’d leave me to my thoughts. As I continued packing my bag, arranging items with deliberate care, he lingered silently in the doorway.

I turned my head toward him, my gaze sharpening with impatience. “Well?” I pressed, arching an eyebrow. “What is it?” Kofi shifted his weight, avoiding direct eye contact as he mumbled, “How many times must I apologize, Kiara?” His words hung heavy in the air as Zuri slipped out of the booth, leaving us alone together.

“You don’t have to apologize anymore—I heard you the first time,” I stated flatly, my tone edged with exasperation. “What exactly do you want from me?” I demanded, even though I knew perfectly well what he desired. He persisted in coming back, refusing to accept my refusal.

“We were good together, you want to throw that away?” he asked, as if our brief fling had been some profound love affair. I couldn’t help but scoff at the absurdity. “We were together for a few weeks, and all you did was suppress me,” I retorted sharply. “So please, leave me alone—I’m not interested in being in a relationship.” My tone left no room for misinterpretation.

As I attempted to exit, Kofi reached out and grabbed my wrist. Without hesitation, I yanked my arm free and glared at him. “Don’t ever touch me again,” I hissed. He raised his hands in surrender, pleading, “I’m sorry—being without you is too much to bear.” His words only irritated me further; rolling my eyes, I pushed past him and left the booth without looking back.

As I strode away from the booth, irritation prickling at my skin, I couldn’t shake the realization that I’d made a grave error with Kofi right from the start. I had let him into my life during those fragile moments when I was desperately trying to move on from Nathan. And now, with a couple of months having passed since Nathan’s transfer to another university, Kofi’s persistence in pursuing reconciliation had become unbearable.

Sometimes I felt a twinge of sympathy for Kofi, but when I spoke with Zuri, she insisted that his behavior at our social gathering that night—even grabbing me aggressively—was a major warning sign I needed to avoid him.

Later that day, I settled into a booth at the cafeteria with Zuri. We reviewed plans for the rally scheduled outside the principal’s office. As we worked, my thoughts drifted to earlier events. I paused and asked, “Is it just me Zuri, or am I judging black men too harshly? My only real experience was with Nathan.” I sought her honest opinion, wondering if I had somehow lost touch with my heritage.

Zuri turned to me, her gaze steady and direct. “Men are men, whether they’re black, white, brown, yellow or blue,” she began, her voice clear and resolute. “Nathan treated you with respect, and even though he was white, that’s what truly matters to us. We refuse to be treated like objects—possessions or trophies.”

“I’ve mostly dated black men since they’re usually in my circle,” Zuri continued, her tone measured yet firm. “And yes, I’ve encountered some who were incredibly kind and respectful—true gentlemen. But there have been others who were just complete jerks. White guys aren’t any different; you’ll find good ones and bad ones in every group. So please, don’t think you’re being unfair or biased.” Her words eased something within me, and I smiled softly, genuinely thankful for her insight.

I felt grateful for Zuri’s reassurance, yet her words deepened the pang in my chest—a reminder of what I’d left behind with Nathan. Staring into my coffee, I murmured, “Kofi seemed so genuine at first.” Zuri nodded knowingly. “That was his angle with me too initially,” she replied, “but I recognized his true colors and wanted no part of him.”

“There are plenty of amazing guys out there, Kiara,” Zuri said softly, leaning closer. “But honestly? You’re still carrying Nathan with you. Every new guy you meet will be measured against him - and that comparison will only leave you let down.”

I nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. My commitments—my studies and this newfound activism that burned within me—were no longer things I could dismiss. They propelled me forward, driving my resolve to become more than I had been.

Outside the principal’s office, a mix of familiar faces gathered around me—Zuri, Ethan, Damien, Kori, and several other black students who had come to support Amara. Even a couple of white allies showed up unexpectedly. I took charge, rallying the group with clear determination. “This is for Amara—we need her released now!” My voice rang out as I began shouting the demand: “Release Amara NOW!” The crowd echoed my words in powerful unison.

As we chanted, Principal Harold Steinman burst through the doors, his face stern. “What in God’s name is happening here?” he barked. I stepped forward, my voice ringing with urgency. “Amara Bennett has been arrested—she must be released immediately.” Steinman’s gaze narrowed as he retorted, “This isn’t within my authority. She was taken into custody due to her conduct.”

“You have an obligation to protect your students,” I insisted, my voice unwavering as I met his gaze directly. “You do have the authority to speak on her behalf—Amara is a victim of injustice, and you must help her.”

Mr Steinman breathed a heavy sigh. “I understand how challenging this is,” he said, “but there’s truly little I can do.” I pressed on, my voice steady despite my frustration. “With all due respect, I don’t accept that. Your influence matters here—Amara deserves to continue her education uninterrupted. And if you fail to act, I assure you, the consequences won’t just affect her; they’ll tarnish the university’s reputation. Rest assured, I will make that widely known.”

“We won’t stop until she’s released” a voice called out from the crowd as I nodded firmly in agreement. “Damn right!” I added, my tone resolute. He fixed his steely gaze upon me and remarked with a patronizing air, “You’re jeopardizing your own standing here, young lady.”

I closed the distance between us, my fury building. “Is that a threat, sir? Are you trying to sabotage my education?” I demanded sharply. Just then Zuri interjected, “This is news I’m ready to share with my social media followers—I’ve got thousands of supporters waiting for updates.”

Mr Steinman’s expression tightened, his gaze darting nervously around the room. “Listen,” he stammered, wiping beads of sweat from his brow, “I’ll make some calls—but you need to call off this protest right now.” I held my ground, staring him down as I replied coolly, “See that you do it quickly, sir—we’ll be back here if Amara isn’t released soon.” He swallowed hard and gave a curt nod. “Fine,” he muttered, “just clear everyone out and I’ll see what I can do.”

I gave him a long stare and turned around, addressing the crowd with resolve. “Alright people, we’ve made our first mark, but if Amara isn’t released, we’ll be back here tomorrow.” Everyone echoed in unison, “Damn right!” I glanced back at Mr. Steinman one last time before commanding firmly, “Let’s go!” With that, we all marched away together.

As we reconvened in our usual meeting spot at The Circle, unease gnawed at me. With no resolution in sight, I outlined plans to escalate—mobilizing another protest at Steinman’s office or possibly organizing a full-scale campus demonstration.

Just as the weight of our unresolved situation pressed down on me, a voice cut through the tension. “Wassup Bitches!” I turned in surprise to find Amara standing at the edge of our circle with her arms raised triumphantly. “Amara!” I cried out as she stepped forward. In an instant we all rose to our feet, converging into a tight embrace that pulsed with relief and renewed energy.