The Trial

THE TRIAL With shackled hands and feet he steps clumsily into the dock. Pushed down into his seat he sits pale-faced, jug-eared, impassive, young, and gazes out at those who would accuse him. Listening to the people speak of their anger, loss and grief, of the violence hurled one Christchurch day in the madness of a killing spree when Muslims came to share and pray in innocence and peace. No answers for the darkness of that savage day when racist hatred burned. The trial now over, the sentence made. The families brave in their resolve, step out into the sunshine of a Christchurch afternoon. Supporters gather round and cheer, greeting the families with their love, applause at justice done, a waiata sung. In unity a community can now move on, knowing that the time for love and healing has begun. ARINA FISH