Is Majority Always Right?

RRRRIIINNNGGGGGG!!!!!!!
I reached out my left hand and silenced the alarm bell. Though tired and sleepy, I got up and dressed. I went to my table, took hold of a pen and wrote a note:

I’ll be back as soon as possible
Love,
Ablin

I hated being at home. Day after day, I would get into arguments with my obnoxious brother who thought he was Mr. Know-It-All. My ideals always contradicted with his. Our favorite subject of harsh debate was about the Mesatites. I thought that the Mesatites must be treated the same as us. But he thought that they must be treated akin to slaves. Actually, mum and dad were on his side. During the Mesa War 5 years ago, the Mesatites killed dad’s brother (who was a soldier). Eventually, the Mesatites lost the war. Thus, their condition now. Nevertheless, why should one hold a grudge for so long? It was our fault in the beginning to attack the Mesatites. Once, I tried to reason with dad. The result? A flat ear and some glaring red marks on my face.

How can I, one man, wrestle with my brother, mother, and father all at the same time and win?

So, with the purpose of releasing stress, I frequently escaped from home bleak home. Now, back to my story!

Silently and steadily, I trod down the stairs. I took my house key in hand, ready to unlock the door. I stepped on something soft and strangely furry.

Meow!!!

“Shucks!!! What is my brother’s stupid cat doing here?!!” I whispered in bewilderment. I zoomed to the entrance and scuttled off.

I ran until I reached the Yol Road. I sat down on a bench to reenergize my sore legs. I giggled when I recalled the cat’s anguished

Meow!!!

I should kick the cat more often to release extra stress!

Somehow, my mind went into a serious state of thought. I thought about the Mesatites. They were being treated like dirt. I always thought of the Mesatites as friends. Regrettably, not many of my kind agreed. Why must the Mesatites suffer? Why……..

Suddenly, I was alerted by a commotion. There was a crowd rushing towards the town square. The crowd was wild. I was like a single drop of water being carried by an insurmountable tidal wave. The air tasted different- a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

Is the majority this enormous?

I stood amongst the crowd like a white elephant. My eyes “paced to and fro” glimpsing the people’s expressions. Most were just confused. Yet they followed the majority as if it was a drug. However, there were still some lonely faces, even in a crowd this huge.

All of a sudden, I felt a large impact on my shoulder. I was flung down. Instinctively, I directed my hands downwards to cushion my fall. I slammed the ground. Nobody came to help me up. They were too caught up in going with the flow.

I felt invisible… and lonely.

I forced myself up before the thundering crowd trampled over me. I stumbled for a while. Soon, I too was walking with the crowd. I took a look at my hands. They were bleeding.

Is this how the minority feels?

I wished for someone to come and take the pain away. I wished for someone to just…just come and talk to me. No one came.

Does the minority always have to defend themselves alone?

I reached the town square. In the middle was a tall, young man on a raised platform. He stood bravely in the midst of an intimidating crowd. He held a microphone and spoke into it.

“Citizens, we are destined to prosper! We have won the Mesa War 5 years ago. Thus, let us reap the benefits by enslaving the Mesatites!”

I was stunned. It suddenly dawned on me that I was against the majority. I cared for the Mesatites.

I was lost in thought. I stood there immobilized as my soul traveled back in time to the period of the Mesa War, 5 years ago.

Darkness…

I opened my eyes. There were people all around me. The Mesatites and my own people were killing each other. I watched as our army invaded the Mesatites’ homes. They killed them, giving no mercy to men and women alike.

I felt incredibly nauseous. I began to panic. I tried to flee. But what I saw shocked me. There was only a sea of corpses around me. I had nowhere to flee. Yet I ran.

My right foot grazed something and I fell to the ground. I pushed myself up and almost ran again but I noticed someone lying beside me.

A young Mesatite girl. I attempted to pick her up. She screamed.

“Do not worry. I’ll get you to somewhere safe.”

She looked at me with her innocent eyes and nodded. She had a cross-shaped wound on her left cheek. The wound was quite deep and it was bleeding. I used my sleeve to clean it.

“What’s your name?”

She did not answer. It was obvious that she was too weak. Then I heard a coarse voice coming from behind.

“Don’t move.”

I turned around.

“I said don’t move!!”

A soldier. He was pointing his rifle at me. No, he was aiming at the girl I held in my arms.

“Don’t shoot!”

The man was fast. He used the butt of his rifle to knock me out. The girl fell to the ground. I struggled to remain conscious. I heard an explosion. I passed out.

I was back in the current world. But the memories stirred up the sealed emotions inside me. Hatred, anger, sadness… they all came out.

I elbowed the crowd out of the way, charging towards the young speaker. My body was overflowing with mindless rage.

But I stopped. I knew I would have been murdered by the crowd if I had done that. However, the anger was still burning within me. I wanted to help the Mesatites so badly. But I could not find the power.

Then I remembered.

I remembered why I had this undying resolve to protect the Mesatites.

“Please, can you spare us some food?”

I gave her my sandwich. The Mesatite woman took it and divided it among her children. They had barely enough. One of her children asked:

“Can we have more?”

Her mother quickly silenced her. She said:

“We have all we want from this young lad- someone who respects difference and understands us.”

Someone who respects difference and understands us……..

I jumped on the platform and snatched the microphone from the speaker.

“Is the majority always right?”

The crowd went silent.

“I don’t care what the majority chooses. The Mesaties are capable of living in harmony with us! They are not slaves!!”

I could not think of anything else to say. I knelt down and shut my eyes, prepared for the crowd’s onslaught.

“The boy speaks the truth!”

I looked to the left where the voice came from. I saw a man with his hands raised.

“Thank you, man! I was going to do that but you did it first!”

Another shout, now from the right.
One by one, more and more people raised theirs hands to support my words.
Then, one courageous man led the crowd to shout:

“Mesatites not slaves!!”

I slowly circled and looked at the crowd. The echo of the shouts never ceased. It grew louder by the moment. I smiled. I finally knew the answer to that question.

Is the majority always right?
The majority might be right or wrong but in every circumstance; we must always do the right thing. For even if you are small, you can grow stronger. And if you think that the minority is that small, look into history and see for yourself, that history is changed because one man challenges the majority and influences the majority. He becomes the majority himself.

The shouts ended and the crowd dispersed. Then I noticed a young Mesatite girl who was staring at me. She had a cross-shaped scar on her left cheek. Ecstatic, I jumped down from the platform and gave chase after her as I wondered what truly happened on that fateful day on the battlefield……..