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Hungry But for All the Wrong Things 

Joy Kohol

Nobody really knows. We think that maybe they’ll change, stop pushing him out and let him be. He’s been sitting in the golden seat for four years, doing what he can or nothing at all, so they throw him out, frustrated with his lack of strength and dedication to the people. 


“We don’t want him! He’s done nothing for us!” They yell, invisible drops of saliva flowing out of their mouths, veins popping out of their necks. 


Yes, now he’s gone. The golden seat is empty, but someone must feel it up if they want to move forward, so they sit patiently rejoicing that he’s gone not realizing the cold breeze that leaves them alone and wrapped in uncertainty now that the golden seat is unoccupied. They sit, we wait, they sit, we wait, they sit, we wait. We’re peeping, seeking, praying, trusting that something will happen soon, really soon, but they seem uninterested as if the unwavering feelings of loneliness and uncertainty haven’t affected them. They look at peace, like they didn’t just chase a man who once tried to make them happy, to feed them and erase their hunger but wait… 


Oh! What’s this? Trumpets, shouts of joy? Chants? Sounds like happy people! Hurray! The golden seat is no longer empty! Behold the new has come, out with the old! Let a new season begin!  


We watch from afar the merry people, hoping their needs are finally met, hoping for things to return to normal and for people to tend to their everyday life. We wait again but this time because we need to be reassured they’ll wait as well and trust the process or at least in the man who sits in the golden seat. 


“What happens if he stumbles? What will they do?” We ask ourselves, tone dripping with worry but before we can think too deeply, we shut ourselves immediately. 


“No, not again. This is the final outburst. They’ll be okay.” We try to convince ourselves by speaking words of encouragement and by having faith in them, in the man as well. 


This is what it looks like to have faith: trusting blindly in the process, the person and the people as well as we wait with conviction that all is well and will be well no matter what happens. And that’s what we did while we tended to our own things, going about our own everyday lives like nothing had happened a few months ago. 


A moment of pure bliss is only but a moment, nothing more nothing less. Once again, we watch as they push him out of the golden seat, screams of frustration escaping their throats seemingly conveying yet another reproduction of the previous month, the months where they chased him out without a second glance. Here we go again on a trip down memory lane, where a man was ousted from the golden seat because he couldn’t feed them and we watch the same thing take place, the same frustration occupy their minds and mouths because he couldn’t fight for them as they needed but wait…  


What’s that? He refuses to leave? Everyone, together: we panic, they panic, we fear a battle, they fear a battle, they fear the worst and worry for loved ones at home, we fear the worst and worry for loved ones we see through a screen, but we all pray while hoping for the best. What will happen if he refuses to leave? What’s to happen? We ask ourselves, they ask themselves. 

He won’t budge, he won’t be driven out, he won’t let them kick him out. The golden seat is not empty. Hearts beat with resounding fear as the uncertainty finally sets in and the loneliness overtakes us all, but we all can’t help but wonder what his next move will be. A week passes, and they stand up and run and run and run until they drive him out of the golden seat, but still he remains, hiding somewhere they know nothing about, and that’s when the uncertainty and loneliness return. 


“Come out! We know you’re still here! Come out of your hole, you chicken!” They yell again, their words filled with venom and burning fire. 


Still, he hides in darkness hoping they rest their case and let him be, but deep down he knows they will never stop. The same way they threw the man before him out is the same way they will throw him out, but he persists and hides with his supposed allies until he feels it's safe to come to the light, someway somehow. 


“Come out! We see you, we know you’re hiding like a thief, and we’ll catch you no matter where you go!” They continue their chant, changing their tone but keeping it fueled with hatred regardless. 


We shake our heads at them in disappointment and annoyance, convinced they’ll never stop no matter what because they refuse to settle for less, and we know the man is scared because he doesn’t trust his own people. He knows they would hurt him if given the opportunity to, so he finally decides to settle but not without certain terms: the people must promise to protect him and his family as they leave for another country, and they must allow him to return to the golden seat in two years. As he leaves quietly and discreetly through the sound of victory chants, everyone is at peace now that uncertainty and loneliness are replaced with happier moments, but deep down we that watch from afar can’t help but think of everything that’s happened. 


We realize that everyone is thirsty, and even worse hungry, as they all want to feed on all the wrong things like power and riches all stained with the blood of innocent people, and they will not stop until they access these things. 

Joy Kohol is a junior at Ball State University. She is an international student from Burkina Faso, West Africa who strives to tell the truth as it is—no sugarcoating, just straight facts. In a world where any wrong movement could bring cancel culture to life, she chooses to not shy away and share her thoughts with those who care to hear them. Her love for writing encourages her to share her stories about growing up in Africa as a missionary kid to learning about racism as a Black woman in America. 

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