My son’s disappearance began like any other day. That morning, he vowed to be home in time for lunch and departed for school with his rucksack slung over one shoulder. However, the luncheon and the evening passed by. I realised by nighttime that something was seriously amiss. I contacted every neighbour, teacher, and parent I could think of, my pulse pounding. Since leaving school, no one has seen Brian. His companions said that shortly after class, he had broken up with them. No one saw him again after that.
I went to the local police station and reported him missing. After I gave my statement, they said they would start looking into it. But the stillness became louder by the hour. But the stillness became louder by the hour. As the days stretched into a week, I feared the worst because the authorities had little to go on. Not knowing where your child is, whether they are safe, hungry, crying, or even alive, is the worst thing a mother can experience. I woke up. I didn’t eat much. Posters, phone calls, and trips to the hospital and police station dominated my life. But my son is still nowhere to be found… CONTINUE READING
