The picturesque of marauding x-men

It was a usual sunny day as we set out to the farm. Farming is the predominant occupation for Secondary School leavers who are yet to secure admission into a higher institution. Growing up in the rural community was heavenly as we had access to fresh foods from the farm. Although rural life is rustic and hostile but it was silent, serene and soft as compared to the "fast and furious" life in the cities.
Waking up before the cock crow was a routine to tidy up some house chores before going to the farm. Walking and sometimes running behind the elders who are slowly riding the bicycle carrying farm implements and jerrycans of water was a delightful exercise for we the younger ones. On getting to the farm, the first thing is the look at the traps set for rodents and bird if it caught any animal. Growing up, we looked forward to going to the farm. Assumed smart kids run away from school or play sick in order not to go to school, so that he/she can make the team that will go to the farm. The main prize of being in the team is a big chunk of roasted bushmeat.
The "once upon a time" peaceful village became dreaded and dead. There was constant invasion of farmlands by cattle herders. These cattle's destroys and feeds on plants and crops edible to them. When farmers resist, these herdsmen destroy the farm lands, it leads to confrontations and rape of village women. These inconsiderate and inhuman activities of herdsmen continued despite the groaning of my village people. Anger brewed more and more farmers became victims of these destructions.
The villagers mobilized to stop the activities of the herders by rustling cattle. Many cattle's were slaughtered. It was like a Christmas day as we ate meat like gluttons. We never knew a retaliatory day awaits!
On this fateful day, we woke up as usual to the alarm sound of the cock crow. We started preparing to go to the farm. I sighted a big flame of fire blazing uncontrollable from a distance and I drew the attention of my household to the sight. We started hearing distant sounds like the humming of the bees. The sound turned to groaning and mourning like a burial at a churchyard. Next, were strings of gun shot heard intermittently. An uneasy calm rested on my soul as I felt that danger and horror were approaching our doorpost. The household fled into the nearby bush behind our yam barn. I dashed and raced on like Usain Bolt on 100 meter sprint without looking back to see who was pursing me. Running for survival was out of impulse. When I looked back, I saw nobody. We were all scattered in the bush. I was panting heavily and gasping for air. A drop of hot tear rolled down my cheek. I systemically controlled my nostril not to drop hot fluid like my eyes did. Different thoughts were racing back and forth on my mind. I silently thought about the safety of my family members. It was a gory dawn!
After like two hours of not hearing any dreadful and scary sounds, I tiptoed back to the nearest footpath, close to the bush I was hiding. As I chest-crawled out of the bush like James Bond on a rescue mission, lo, my complete family walked towards me. I was the last person to be found. Ecstatically, I jumped towards their embrace as we united after the hullabaloo.
Others that fled into the bushes were also coming out one after the other. The village was calm now, although the marauders left sorrow, tears and blood in the village. The attackers have done the unthinkable. The land was desolated and made bare, blood flowed like a river. Many were declared missing, about seventy dead bodies were lying mutilated. This is the height of inhumanity. Without any further investigation into the remote and immediate cause of this carnage, it had the handwriting of herders. They did it as a reprisal for the slaughter of their cattle.
In order not to wake up and find the entire village razed up, many villagers set out to the nearby village for safety and settled as internally displaced persons. That was how I moved from my village to the city. I still reminicent the pure, clean, and sweet air of my village. Till date, the perpetrators of the acts of murder are walking and working freely like freeborn and freemen.