Dream Diary: Bonda

Bonda has been known by locals of my dystopian world as someone who kidnaps children to be taken care of as her own. The kids captured were rarely returned and even if they were – strangely enough Bonda was never charged for kidnapping by the parents of whom the kids were taken from. It was never clear how some kids were returned and some remained missing but it became a parent’s nightmare whenever they knew that their kids were taken by Bonda. Because the chances of them coming back home is very low.

I was a single mom in this dreamland with two daughters ages 7 and 8. They were both really well-mannered, empathetic and bright children. I wasn’t sure what my line of work was but it seemed very busy and involved meeting many people from various backgrounds. There’d be moments of me talking to these various people but the matter of discussion was never made obvious in the dream. My line of work resulted in me missing a lot of PTA meetings, school holidays and time with my girls.

One day I was supposed to fetch my children from school. I was a bit late but I told them to stay within the school compound and just wait for me to come by. As usual, I would be reminding them to not follow any strangers. Just as I arrived at the school gate and waited in the car queue to the main entrance, I could see from far of how my girls climbed into another person’s car which does not have any form of resemblance to mine. I panicked, got out of my car and started shouting for them to stop but the door slammed shut and went off. I hurried over to the security guard and asked him, ‘Whose car was that?”why did you let my daughters go in the car? it is not my car!!’

The security guard turned around. He had sunglasses on – he just had a cataract operation and replied, “Bonda took them, there was nothing I could do”

I had another gush of panic and anger. I ran back to my car and sped up after Bonda’s car. It was one of those situations where I could see the car but I couldn’t catch up to it no matter how fast I was driving. In the meantime, I was calling 999, informing them of my situation and describing the car’s number plate hoping for a roadblock somewhere along the road. Despite having my eyes on the car at all times, the car suddenly disappeared. Without a trace. As though it could vanish in thin air.

I wasn’t willing to give up and I had some two other detectives approaching me for a statement and tracking down Bonda with the cliche’d visits to nearby establishments asking ‘Have you seen these children? do you recognize this car?’ These enquiries were always met with a NO and my level of disappointment and heart aches rose every time. Although they told me to stay at home and wait for news from them, I still tagged along with their investigation by driving my own car. It hurts to cry for days not knowing what happened to my girls if they are alive and taken by Bonda or other ill-meaning kidnappers. Nothing showed up on any CCTV on the streets which was puzzling to me.

It was during one of those door-to-door enquiries that I suddenly saw the car again. I immediately told the detectives and we followed it closely from behind in our respective cars. However, the detective’s cars suddenly had problems mid-journey. They just stopped in the middle of the road. This meant that I had to continue ahead, maintaining a distance but still tailgating the vehicle. The car was driving at a normal speed but the journey was taking ages. It felt like I was hours in the car and the day soon turned dark. We finally reached an area where I could see a huge mansion within a gated brick wall. It looks majestic, almost like an ancient building from afar. I parked my car by the side of the road and tried to send my location to the detectives but the line was not good.

Somehow I was suddenly in a room and I found my daughters. They were in a pink of health and were asking me if I was there to visit them. In a hushed voice, I told them I was there to take them away from the place to come back home. They asked me back,”Why?”. The question caught me by surprise as I wondered ‘Why would they even want to stay here? This is not their home’.

Suddenly the door creaked open. I quickly hid behind the door. It was the mysterious Bonda.

Her figure and voice looked and sounded so familiar from behind. I knew I recognized this person. True enough, when she turned around to see me behind the door – it was someone I knew. A person I knew in real life, which was shocking. She was my specialist at my clinic. In Dreamland, she is also playing the role of a specialist at our local health facility. Everyone knew her as a kind doctor. This was a small neighbourhood, she knew that my daughters were missing but why didn’t she say anything? Did she want to keep the girls to herself forever? Bonda must have sensed my presence. She turned around, saw me and with a relaxed tone and no ounce of guilt asked “Are you here for your children?”. My eyes were glazed and I muttered a soft “yes”.

She led me to the corridor with the girls holding my hand side by side. We walked past a lot of rooms with children inside, giggling or laughing. Then we passed an area where I could see kids of various ages doing some sort of activity like reading, playing the piano, swimming etc. I thought I saw a familiar face among the kids and wondered if it was the same child I saw on a poster months ago that said MISSING. Bonda showed me the door and closed it behind me without saying a word. Not even a goodbye to the girls or even an explanation of why she did what she did.

I don’t really remember the aftermath of the situation but upon waking up, I am still thinking of what happened.

3R : Read, Reflect, Respond