text: The sun was up, but Ming Li could barely feel it on his skin. The shadow of the tall buildings casted a shade he wished it didn’t have. Ming cursed silently under his breath. Aside from having unwanted shade on days he wished he could feel the sun kissing his skin, there were a lot of things he didn’t like about being in Kowloon City. Maybe if he was younger and without a care in the world, he would have remained silent, but now he was grown, grown enough to know that living in what is essentially *filth*. It didn’t matter what anyone had to say - what his father had to say - leaving was the only option he had. A bike zoomed by him splashing water over him, causing Ming to step aside quickly from the gravel road. He would have cursed again, but he squeezed his fist instead and bit down on his tongue to stop himself. Ming Li knew the mess on his clothes would get dry before he arrived home, and better still, only a few people will notice the stain, much less get bothered about it. If anyone however noticed, Ming had a ready-made answer for them. Yeah, it would be a lie, but it wouldn’t be far away from the truth. He would tell them that he got the cloth dirty at one of the many construction site. He had been there all day, trying to get the boss to give him a job, but that has been to no avail. There were too many people struggling for the limited posts and he didn’t have the connections. *Anything but killing oneself with steam at the shop.* He moved on, navigating through the tiny alley that barely accommodated two person side by side. His eyes roamed through the length and breadth of the one road that led in and out of the city, the haphazardly cramped shops, the unlicensed clinics, the brothels and all these haphazardly built housing, and tears threatened to push through the boundaries of his eyes. Every thing about Kowloon irritated him. If not for anything, Ming was yet to forgive the city for its shabbiness, its disorderliness, and worse still, its lack of basic amenities. The poor condition of the road network was the least of the city’s problem. Kowloon lacked everything. There was no police station within the boundary, the clinics were almost all unlicensed and ran by quacks who specialized in illegal selling of organs and questionable medicine, and they could hardly treat any sick person properly. According to his father, his mother died when he was three, due to the mistake of one of the quacks. Ming didn’t have much memory of her, and he blamed the city for robbing him of the pleasure of having his mother around. *She would have been here by now, if only there were any type of social service.* Ming blinked back the tears, as he pushed the thoughts away from his head. There was no point wishing for something that would never come. Over the past ten years, all he had done was wish, and pray that God would send someone to the city to help. Years later, here he was, and Kowloon was still as bad as ever - if not worse. For a “city” of fifty thousand people crammed in less than 6 acre of lands, Ming thought that God was selfish in a way. *What else did he want?* Yes, a lot of bad things happened within the walls of the city, but that wasn’t entirely the fault of the people. He knew a lot of kind people within the walls of Kowloon who prayed daily to God. His father, Chung Li, was one of them. As long as he could remember, his father would always go to church and pray to God, and even at home, he’ll make several prayers, asking for success. However, he had nothing to show for it. It wasn’t just him, no one in Kowloon could claim they had a thing to show for all the prayers they offered. Ironically, the sound of voices singing *pass me not oh Gentle Savior* travelled to Ming’s ear from salvation army - one of the only two churches in Kowloon. Ming swore under his breath, for all he cared, God passed a long time ago, and he didn’t bother to take another look at Kowloon. Prostitution was rampant in the city and the shame of the profession was almost disappearing. The number of drug dealers within the walls had tripled, and worse still, number of kids leaving school was increasing daily. There was no more controversy, Kowloon was officially the most dangerous area in the whole of Hong Kong. It had gotten so bad that the government no longer gave a damn, and leave it to anarchy. *Damn it, its 1960 for God’s sake.* Someone called his name and he turned in the voice’s direction to wave. Alas, the person was calling someone else. Regardless, Ming waved his hand and slipped from the road, making a left turn into the famous narrow alley that led to his house. The first drop of water landed on his head as he moved as fast as he could. There was no point trying to dodge the droplets, everyone in Kowloon who passed through them either carried an umbrella or just allowed their clothes to get drenched. It was like an artificial rain fall. Ming hissed as his stained clothes began to stick to his body due to the new wetness. He couldn’t remember the last time the alley was dry. People living in the topmost floor of the buildings disposed their used water as they deemed fit - the result was a constantly drizzling shower that forced people walking through the alleys to carry an umbrella. With no real job, stained from a splash, and now covered in water filled with only God knows what, Ming Li headed for his house with his head down, but his mind as determined as ever. No matter what his father thought or said, and no matter the circumstances that would come his way, he would find a way to leave the Kowloon. *To hell with the wall city.* \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ Chung Li, better known as Uncle Chung didn’t like Kowloon anymore than his son Ming. Contrary to what his son thought, his reason for asking him to stay wasn’t because there was anything special about the walled city, but rather because he wanted Ming to have a plan before leaving. At sixty-five, there was nothing else to live for than him. Uncle Chung still missed his wife and wished she hadn’t die seventeen years ago due to tuberculosis, but now, he’d learned to keep his mind at rest and breath whenever the frustration of all he had lost came knocking. All he had left was his steamed buns shop and Ming, both of which he had no plan to lose. That Sunday afternoon, Uncle Chung was mixing the flour meant to prepare the bun for delivery the following morning when the rowdiness at his door caught his attention. He quickly rinsed his hand in a bowl of water and wiped it with the apron around his waist. He could hear Fung and Ling voice, and a couple more voices he couldn’t make out. Rushing out of his make shift kitchen, the person standing inside his shop sent chills down his spin. “Uncle Chung, you need to caution your workers. If not for the respect I have for you, I would have taken a finger each from both of them for trying to stop me at the door.” Nam said as he paced the floor of the main shop, with an arrogant smirk on his face. Uncle Chung raced halfway across the room to help his staffs - brother and sister, Fung and Ling up. “I’m sorry Nam, pardon them. They won’t make that mistake again. Fung and Ling scoffed, but the hands of Uncle Chung was on their shoulder, restraining them from doing anything that could lead to more scuffle in the shop premises. Uncle Chung asked both of them to leave for the kitchen, he gave instructions on how they were to treat the mixed batter. Fung knew what that meant. They didn’t touch the batter unless they were making the buns for themselves. Uncle Chung mixed the batter and made all the buns. His job and Ling’s were more like a sales person’s job. They stayed in shop and attended to local customers while uncle Chung went to deliver the bulk of the buns outside the city wall daily. Uncle Chung asking them to go mix batter was just a way of asking them to give him and big brother Nam some privacy. Fung nodded and scooped his sister’s hand, pulling her along as he headed for the kitchen. Uncle Chung turned and faced Nam. If he lived outside the city, he would have called the police the moment Nam showed up, but Kowloon wasn’t a place to call the police for help. People like Nam ran the city, and at such, everyone was forced to respect them and grant them audience. Nam or Big Brother Nam like his followers called him started out as a low life thug who worked for the one of the biggest drug dealers in Kowloon. When the local kingpin found out that Nam’s boss was ripping them off, they beheaded him in broad day light and declared Nam the new leader. Ever since then, Nam’s arrogance knew no bound. He took any girl he wanted - raped some of them who objected - and rumor had it that he was the one behind a couple of murders within Kowloon. What a man like Nam wanted with him, U ncle Chung didn’t know, but whatever it was, he knew it couldn’t be good. “What brings you here.” Uncle Chung asked, his eyes roaming around the four other men that came with Nam. Nam chuckled, revealing a gold tooth he used to replace one that fell during one of his numerous fist fights. “Where are your other staffs aside from those two rats. You had a couple of them last I checked.” “Today is Sunday, my other two staffs get the day off. Fung and Ling come every day, they are more like my children than staffs.” “I have a proposition for you.” Nam began smiling. “It will change your life a great deal. You’ll be able to afford better than this shanty, and move into something better. Maybe even get yourself a nice flat outside of the city” Uncle Chung grimaced. There was nothing he wanted to do with Nam, but he didn’t want to rebuff him immediately, that could lead to more noise within the shop, and he didn’t want that. “What could you possibly want from me. You have everything, I am just an old man who makes buns all day.” “You have more than that.” Nam chuckled suspiciously. “You have a network, a transport route, and that’s all I want from you.” He closed the distance between the two of them and led Uncle Chung to one of the wooden benches in the small room. “For a while now, the police have been watching my business with an eagle eye. I don’t know who is informing them about the business, but as soon as my men leave these cities wall they are searched” Nam smiled at Uncle Chung, trying to sound as desperate and needing as possible. Uncle Chung sat silently, not uttering a word. Whatever Nam was about to say, he knew he wasn’t going to like a word of it. “You on the other hand leaves Kowloon everyday with your cart of buns, and the police never searches you because you.” Nam said. Uncle Chung whispered as quietly and respectful as he could. “I don’t understand what you are asking of me.” “I think you do uncle Chung, and you are just pretending. However, I’ll say it in plainer words if you want me to.” He glared, his anger beginning to show on his face. “I have some shipment I need to deliver outside the city, but the police are making it difficult. They have started searching most of my men whenever they try getting out of the city’s gate. However, for some obvious reasons, the police don’t bother you. All I need from you is to help me with some of my consignment. Keep it under your buns, and some of my men outside the city will be there to collect it from you at a safe location.” Nam said. “No offense Nam, but are you asking that I smuggle drugs with my cart?” uncle Chung asked politely. Nam smiled reassuringly. “You make it sound like they are bad things. They are medication that people need, and yes, that what I am asking of you.” “I am sorry, but I won’t be able to do that.” “This will be paid for. In fact, I am willing to pay you $1000.00, per successful delivery. That like what? A month sale from your buns? You’ll make that much every two days. That’s how frequent this will be.” Uncle Chung rose to his feet suddenly. “I’m sorry, but like I said earlier, I wouldn’t be a party to that. You’ll have to find someone else to offer that money.” He said, avoiding Nam’s face. Nam was tired of persuading the old man. He wasn’t here to bargain. This was his territory, and no one had the right to challenge his instructions as far as he was concerned. His initial approach was out of respect for uncle Chung’s age, now he wasn’t going to be so lenient anymore. “You are going to deliver those products for me uncle Chung.” Nam snapped. “I won’t, it’s against everything I -” “I wasn’t asking ‘uncle’.” Nam interjected before the elderly man could finish his sentence. “You can’t force me to do something I don’t want to do.” Uncle Chung managed to reply before the first slap landed on his face. Big brother Nam and his entourage descended on Uncle Chung before anyone could say anything. Slaps and kicks landed from different angles, and soon enough, droplets of blood were trickling on the ground. Someone threw the rolling pin, and a glass shattered. Fung held his sister, Ling, down in the kitchen where they were crouched close to the door eavesdropping. They watched and listened in fear as six men descended on their boss. Fung’s curled his fist so tight, his finger almost cut into his flesh. He wished there was something he could do to help, but he knew he would be powerless against the men. He held Ling closer and covered her mouth with his hand before she made another sound. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ Ming kicked an empty can as he made the turn leading to the adjoining alley leading to building where he and his father lived. The sight of big brother Nam and his goons walking triumphantly away caused him to tremble. He quickly scurried away, dodging behind a parked bus to prevent coming in contact with them. Ming wasn’t a stranger to Big Brother Nam and his antics. On more than one occasion, Nam’s men had tried recruiting him to join their gang. They’d offered him money just for him to help in transporting some of their products - mainly heroine, and opium - from Kowloon to outside of the city. On every of such occasions, Ming had turned down the offer. Yes, he wanted a better life and all the good life of people outside of the city, but he didn’t plan to embarrass his father by running drugs. He watched them pass while they mouthed several curse words and threats. Ming didn’t hear a lot of what they said, but he was certain that he heard his father’s name. Half running and half jugging, Ming raced home, not stopping until he crossed the door line. His eyes scanned the room that doubled as the shop and the living room, Ming’s legs trembled as he beheld the destruction that had befell the room. Pieces of broken ceramics and chinaware’s littered the floor of the room. Chairs and tables were toppled over, and flour and other ingredients was all over the floor. His eyes settled on his father and the two skinny bodies around him, tending to his wound. The view wasn’t pretty. Uncle Chung’s left cheek was doubled in size, he had a black eye, and blood was running down his nose. Fung was applying a cold-press on the eye, and Ling was rubbing a balm into the wound. “Why did he do this?” Ming asked, addressing his father specifically. There was no question as to the who, he knew this was all big brother Nam. Uncle Chung stood from between the three and headed for his small room, not answering the question at all. Ming followed his father in tow, asking the same question over and over. After Uncle Chung insisted that he forget about it, and also requested that he excused him as he wanted to take a short nap, Ming left the room, banging the door behind him. “Take it easy Ming.” Fung said. “I saw big brother Nam and his goons on my way home. There is no point asking who did all this,” Ming replied, referring to the mess. “I know he did, but I’ll like to know why. What did he want with father?” he continued. Ling started first, explaining how big brother Nam had forced his way into the shop, and all that transpired between him and Uncle Chung. Fung continued, trying to explain Big Brother Nam’s threat, and how he promised to be back. Ming had heard enough. He rose up suddenly and stormed towards the door. “Where are you off to Ming?” Fung asked, shouting on top of his voice as Ming strode out of the room. “To the police!” \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Ming glanced at the cheap watch on his wrist, the time was barely 3 p.m., on a regular day even if the workers were still out, trying to make last minute delivery for the weekend, his father was always in the shop, preparing batter for emergency deliveries, also cleaning up after the weeks job. If he hadn’t gone out to check if he could get a job at the construction site one last time, Ming himself would have been the one cleaning up - that was the only job he did in the shop. Making buns didn’t interest him because of the meagre profit, and mixing batter was worse than manual labor as far as he was concerned. The week had been tough. Ever since big brother Nam’s first visit to the shop on Sunday, business had gone down dramatically. On more than one occasion, Nam’s men attacked their delivery carts while staff went about their daily delivery. Twice, the men had attacked the shop, and almost the entire staff had quitted except for Ling and Fung. Things were getting out of hand pretty fast. Ming had tried reporting to the police, but the stories were the same; The City of Kowloon is outside of the Royal Hong Kong Police’s jurisdiction. Ming had a feeling that the shop’s silence had something to do with another one of Big Brother Nam’s visit. He flattened himself against the wall, and tried peeking through the door crack to see inside. The sight that greeted him had him bursting in through the door. There was his father in his khaki shorts and white T-shirt, hanging from the ceiling fan, a tight noose around his neck. Covering the short distance between the door and dangling body felt like a long-distance race. His hands were shaky has he tried holding the body up. Perhaps, he was just in time and Uncle Chung was still alive. Still holding the body up, Ming managed to pull a stool with his foot, and balanced the body on it before he ran to get a knife and a taller stool to cut the rope around his father’s neck. He felt for a pulse, but there was none. He licked his left index finger to make it wet, and held it to uncle Chung’s nostril, but there was no breath. *No!!!* He tried to think, but he came up blank. A million and one questions ran through his mind within that time frame. There was no doubt, this had Big Brother Nam written all over it. *The hospital!* It was like a light bulb moment for him. If he got his father to the hospital, maybe they’ll be able to save him. *And the money to pay for the bill?* He didn’t consider the question for more than a second. He’ll get to the hospital with his father first, and worry about paying later. Ming lifted the body on his shoulder in a fireman position. The weight slowed him down, but he moved as fast as he could for the door. It was locked. *Didn’t I leave it open just now?* He approached the door regardless. At that moment, he perceived it for the first time. *Did father put something to cook on the stove?* Then, he saw it. The smoke came from everywhere, and then the fire. He was at a fix, Ming didn’t know if he should drop his father and try putting out the fire first, or just head for the hospital and deal with the fire later. Deciding on the latter, he closed the gap between him and the door, and pulled at the knob with his strength. It was locked from outside. *But I left this door opened.* The smoke filled everywhere, and the room got hotter by the second. Oxygen depleted fast as Ming continued attempting to break down the door. The smoke filled his nostrils and he began to choke. His legs began to fail him, and soon, he was down, beside the still body of his father. Ming coughed and sneezed a couple of time. *Help!* He thought he called out as loud as he could, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. His eyes began to fail too. Ming tried staying awake as hard as he could, but his strength was reducing, and oxygen was depleting too. He saw his father in that moment, smiling at him and waving too. *How is this possible?* Ming held to that thought before everything went blank. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ “What do we do now?” Ling asked, her voice traveling to Ming’s ear like whispers. Fung palm covered his face. “There is nothing to do. We went to the police together, didn’t we?” it wasn’t a question to which he wanted an answer. “You heard what they said. Neither God, the Queen, or the police has any authority here. And as for the few who would have dared to try, Big Brother Nam made sure he paid them off. No one is coming to help us. We are on our own.” Ling sobbed softly, and Fung tried to console her. Ming opened his eyes but made no sound. The image of what happened replayed before him like a horror movie. *Dad!* He remembered clearly now, the noose, and the fire. He turned his head and looked around the room as silently as he could. He remembered this place very well, it was the small room Ling and Fung stayed together ever since their parents died three years earlier. He had visited them on several occasions afterwards, and even convinced his father to employ them that same year. He tried sitting up, but his hand hurt like hell. Fung noticed him awake first, and then Ling followed after, both of them running towards him like they weren’t in pain themselves. “You are awake.” Ling said, cuddling his hand, and stroking his fingers passionately. Ming defiled the pain and sat regardless. “Where is dad?” Fung dropped his head down and Ling began to cry. Ming didn’t require an answer beyond that. He knew the answer to the question before he asked. He was just holding on to faith, but now that he knew the he was dead, he knew what he had to do. Ming waited for Ling and Fung to sleep while he pretended to sleep too. They had cried together, and Fung had explained how no one outside of the city were willing to come and help. The police refused to investigate, and the firefighter didn’t even bother showing up. It took the efforts of the neighbors, fearing that the fire will spread to their own property, to put out the inferno. Fung also explained that the workshop had burned down entirely, and Uncle Chung was partly burnt too before they could get to him. He and his sister had come just in time from their delivery to see the building burning, and they could only get Ming out before the fire really escalated. Ming was the first to say he needed sleep, but he didn’t doze a bit. He laid there and waited until the brother and sisters were asleep before he slipped out of the room. Grabbing a kitchen knife with his heart set on revenge and murder, Ming went looking for big brother Nam. His whereabout on Saturdays wasn’t a secret, he drank in the biggest pub in Kowloon. Ming stood in the shadows and waited. Soon, the chubby frame of Nam and two of his men approached, staggering down the road, drunk to their fill. The element of surprise was all he had. With the image of his father hanging from the fan on his mind, Ming took aim and lunched from the dark, aiming for Nam’s chest. He was too slow. Nam saw him coming, and stepped aside just in time for the knife to only cause flesh wounds. The knife fell from his hand as he fell to the ground, and before he could recover it, the two goons pounced on him, blows and punches landing from different angles. “Who sent you rat.” Nam asked, standing over Ming’s body after his men had given him the beating of his life. Though in pain, Ming was determined as ever. “You killed my father you fool, and I’ll kill you too.” “Its Uncle Chung’s Kid, Ming.” One of the goons said, belching disgustingly. A smirk spread on Nam’s face. “That old fool paid the price for defiling me.” Nam reached for the knife, and was about to strike Ming when a brick came flying from an angle, aimed at Nam’s head. It missed by a mile, but it gained Nam’s attention and that of his men. They turned in the direction, and so did Ming. It was Fung and Ling. “Seize them.” Nam screamed. The two goons leaped for the siblings, pinning them down easily before the could flee. Ling tried to scream, but the goon with her covered her mouth with his large hand. Nam looked at Ling and a evil grin came across his face. “Little Missy, don’t be afraid, I will be very gentle” he said as he start to approach her, ignoring her muffled cries. Nam and his men were distracted, leaving Ming unattended to. He reached for the large brick and before Nam could turn in his direction, he struck with all the strength he had, aiming for the head. Nam fell down in a loud thud, dead before his body even hit the floor. Blood flowed from his head, gushing like a water from a broke faucet. The two goons holding the siblings shrieked in fear of what just happen, and before they could move, Ming lunched for the one holding Ling while Fung fought against the one holding him captive. A couple of punches, kicks and screams, and the two goons were out cold. “We noticed you left the room and we followed you.” Fung said, helping his scared sister up. Ming grabbed Fung hand. “We don’t have time, Nam’s men will soon hear about what happened here, and they’ll be coming after us. We need to leave the city now.” “How will we survive.” Ling whispered. “I don’t know too, but if we don’t leave, we will die here for sure.” Ming said. Fung nodded reassuringly at his sister. The walked as fast as they could, heading for the city’s gate, not saying a word until they were outside its premises, and never looking back.