WHICTH HUNT

Last night i sat down to watch a clip. I was moved. how does one human being have the nerve to set another on fire. we are no longer in those medieval times when witch hunting was the norm of the day. those barbaric eras where people used to cheer the torching of others. I sat there out of dire curiosity watching the whole thing progress and towards the end I was so disgusted that i almost puked my guts out. i could the pain the victims were going through, I could the misery as one man tried to run away only to be beaten senseless with a pole and thrown back to the fire. I could also hear the unmistakable cries of angry men and women who were imploring for the victims to be burnt.
 Tears welled into my eyes as I watched this old woman who just lay there burning, not moving, my heart went out to her. all I could hear from her were sobs and the statement, "I am not a witch" uttered in her mother tongue. they beat her and set her afire. using twigs, shrubs, and sticks.then a tyre was added later. i wept for her.
I wonderd how much nerve one had to muster to set one ablaze. I wondered the amount of courage the cameraman had to stand and film the whole thing.I wondered why the police took so long to arrive. They only arrived to pick the charred remains of the victim. one was still alive but suffering. I wondered why society couldn't find any other ways to deal with the victims instead of going barbaric on them. and worst off all I wondered why I had chosen to watch the clip in the first place and stood it to the end.