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"We cannot be sure of having something to live for unless we are willing to die for it."
Cuba. 1955. A time of darkness and strife. The dictator, Batista, is holding onto power with a vice grip. Viole...
Dario let out a satisfied sigh as he finished the last sentence of his essay. After placing his pen down on the smooth wooden surface of the table, he held up the pieces of paper that formed his argument on the "Disadvantages of the Command Economy". He examined the pages for the last time, looking out for errors. Satisfied, he arranged the papers and packed his stationery into his bag.
A quick glance around the silent classroom showed most of the students still frantically rushing their essays. Grabbing his essay, Dario slung his bag over his shoulder and walked over to the front of the classroom to hand in his assignment to the professor.
He noted with satisfaction the nods of approval the grizzled professor gave as he inspected the essay, his rheumy gray eyes peering through thickset spectacles.
"Looks good, Dario. You may leave."
"Thank you professor," Dario said.
He stepped out into the hallway and started to make his way out of the building. Finally, Friday had come. The dark hallway was filled with students eager to get home after a long day of classes. His thoughts had started to turn to the weekend ahead when he felt a stinging slap on his back. He did not need to turn around to know who it was.
"Camilo! That hurt!" he exclaimed, glaring at his best friend.
The tall, grinning youth ignored the comment, and instead put Dario into a needlessly painful headlock.
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Dario wailed, flinging his hands around in vain, unable to escape from the grasp of his larger friend.
Apparently satisfied with the reaction he got, Camilo let his best friend go, leaving him gasping for air. The commotion they caused drew quite a few weird looks from the nearby students. Dario muttered a few apologies before brisk walking ahead.
Within a few steps, Camilo caught up. He flashed his pearly white teeth as an apology. Dario merely rolled his eyes, having grown accustomed to his best friend's antics.
"Where were you, Camilo? Didn't see you at Economics just now. Quite unlike you to skip classes."
"Oh." Camilo gave a sheepish smile. "I was with some friends, you know, discussing the final details for tomorrow. It was important."
"Friends?" Dario raised his eyebrows. "You mean from the underground student movement?"
"Tomorrow, my friend, there will be a protest on the streets of Havana, right in front of the National Capitol Building, organised by the University Students Federation, of which, yours truly, is an honorary committee member." Camilo beamed with pride. "We were finalizing some details about outreach, and I can tell you now that Batista will be shocked to see the hundreds we shall gather at the protest."
The duo reached the university's main entrance steps and made their descent.
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