Anti-assimilation army: A Flame

Chapter 2: Native Blood

Drew Abouesse had never smiled as much in his entire lifetime. The commander of the AAA, Paul Robinson, had agreed to support their organization called Canada is Native or CIN for short. Composed of an entirely Aboriginal body of staffers, volunteers, politicians and lawyers, their main goal was to take absolute control of Canada, and revert its ownership back to the First Nations. Polling has found most Canadians were sympathetic with the Aboriginal cause, and a staggering majority agree that reconciliation needed to be pursued actively by the government.

While the AAA was created to save Canada from foreign invaders, it now supported the First Nations in keeping their land from being assimilated by the Canadian government or non-Aboriginal enterprise.

Still smiling as he entered his taxi, he was whisked away to his residence, where his wife and daughter were getting ready for dinner. Soon, the descendants of Canada’s Aboriginal peoples will have their country back. Power will revert rightfully back to their hands. The support of the AAA had drastically increased their chances of success, and even Drew was surprised at how readily Paul was willing to side with him. They would need to take control of Parliament legally if they were to legitimately take control of the entire government with as little backlash as possible from the public. A majority of the Members of Parliament or MPs need to agree to an Act constituting the transfer of power to Native hands. Once the first domino falls, the rest will follow suit, creating a cascading effect of reform and retribution. Gathering momentum, the movement, if successful in its infancy stages will become unstoppable, and that movement is essentially the end-goal of the CIN.

A free and Indigenous Canada seemingly so unattainable, yet they had never been closer to achieving their goal. The years of protest, rebellion, vandalism, violence and refusal to submit would now be overshadowed by the legitimate usurp of power. Canada would become a shining light to the world on how to deal with Aboriginal peoples around the world.

Thinking back to his father, who was arrested for trying to stop pipelines from being built across British Columbia, Drew grew up learning that one had to fight for their freedoms and values, and that change only happens when society accepts it. No matter how important the matter was, if people did not empathize with it, the change and reform would never come. So from a young age, Drew began practicing public speaking and leading groups that discussed Aboriginal affairs and government. Considered a champion for the Aboriginal cause in BC, he was thrown into the spotlight when a local news story covered his organization of Aboriginal youth looking for ways to keep their culture alive.

It was as if he became popular overnight, as his face was splashed across hundreds of thousands of screens across the province. His last statement in the interview was deeply embedded into the minds of his viewers. “Change is coming. Whether we accept it now is the real question.”

His voice literally fanned a flame into a fire that same night, and crowds of people could be heard chanting “Change is coming” over and over again. 

The next few steps he took were crucial. He needed support legally, socially and politically to not be brushed aside as another failed Aboriginal protest. While not dismissing his post-secondary education, he spent the rest of his free time mobilizing his organization. Mentors, volunteers, lawyers and politicians began flooding in to join the newly formed CIN, and it seemed every news broadcaster wanted an in-depth interview with Drew.

Then, Drew met Martha. If he were to rank her charm and beauty on a scale of one to ten, she’d definitely score a solid eleven. He could remember their first date where it seemed they could not stop talking about the rights of the Native people in Canada and their experiences of prejudice and subtle racism in school. The two of them instantly clicked and after a quick six months of dating amidst the chaos of the Coronavirus, Drew proposed to Martha and they were set to get married in the summer of 2022. 

Planning to hold a modern wedding with some elements of their culture mixed in, they believed that being Aboriginal and Canadian were not mutually exclusive. 

When the big day arrived, Martha walked down the isle in radiance, much to the awe of the guests. They ended the ceremony with a traditional smudging of burnt herbs on their faces, signifying the unity between them.

The following year, they gave birth to their daughter Madison and while they busied themselves learning to be parents, Drew was preparing to run for Parliament in the next federal election. Living in Surrey at the time, he convinced Martha to move to the most politically important city in Canada: Ottawa, Ontario.

For the next four years, he worked tirelessly to get the word out about his candidacy in the election. As he knocked on thousands of doors and handed out an insane number of pamphlets, he was soon favoured to win the next election, despite running as an independent. His rivals all tried to paint him as a far-left radical who couldn’t be trusted, and smear campaigns began targeting Drew as the election grew near. As he had to spend most of his time campaigning, he passed on the leadership reigns of the CIN to Martha, who reluctantly took over but not without protest. 

“CIN needs you Drew, they don’t need another politician in government,” Martha argued.

“Martha, there’s only so much our organization can do. We need political clout and for that to happen we need to have a say in Parliament. I’m not abandoning our mission, I am just taking the battle to inside the government itself.” Hugging his wife, Drew turned off the night lamp and went to bed, dreaming of the upcoming election. 

The next morning after discussing their future together, Drew helped get Madison ready for daycare, bundling the little three-year-old up in a light jacket to ward off the autumn chills. Martha headed straight for CIN’s head office while Drew dropped off Madison and drove to his campaign office a short distance away.

With the 2026 election approaching in less than a month, there was much preparation needed to get ready for the momentous event. 

“Kevin! Top of the morning to you. How was your weekend?” asked Drew.

“Same old, same old. Went window shopping with the wife and children before stopping at the park to play. Then we ate out at this fancy restaurant that charged nearly thirty dollars for a burger and fries! It was insanely expensive!” said Kevin as he shook his head.

“Were we able to find a replacement for our Chair of Fundraising? I didn’t expect Deborah to take maternity leave so soon.”

Keven handed Drew a couple of papers, with several names circled or crossed out. “I’ve shortlisted the candidates to these few names. Thought you might want to review their curriculum vitae before approving any of them. 

Giving a thumbs-up, Drew headed to his packed office and shut the door, as he looked over the candidates:

Nancy Potter,
Seven years of experience fundraising for NGO’s with several more years working on the field in outreach projects across Africa and Latin America. Fluent in English, French and Spanish. Able to make critical decisions under pressure, has attention to detail and is a team player.

Expected salary: $25,000 per year.

Neal Stevenson
An innovative and creative inventor, able to formulate functional ideas to solve problems and to attract funds. Proficient in graphic design software and artwork, with several years of education studying under a prestigious art school.

Expected salary: $20,000 per year.

Putting down the papers, Drew decided to check his email, hoping some rich patron decided to gift a donation to their Electoral District Association. With Deborah gone, the onus of fundraising work was up to himself for now, with several fundraising events scheduled for the last few weeks of campaigning. Drew knew that having the funds to market and advertise their promises to the people was essential to running a successful campaign. But he also knew that for every hour he spent organizing fundraisers, he had one less hour to socialize with potential voters, whether by knocking on doors, speaking in debates or handing out flyers. The polls had placed him at the front of the race, expected to win with nearly forty-five percent of the vote. Yet Drew didn’t leave anything up to chance. With the determination and focus of a lion, he worked tirelessly, checking in on his social media content creator, his team of door-knockers and stream of volunteers working on various tasks. Like a smooth-running machine, their campaign seemed to run without a hitch, despite last-minute attempts by rivals to question his credibility as a candidate for Parliament. 

When he arrived home late in the evening, Drew quietly closed the door so as not to wake anyone who might be sleeping. Upon entering the kitchen, Martha was washing the dishes and when she heard him coming, she warned him with a finger to keep quiet, pointing to their daughter sleeping on the sofa. 

Drew walked over to Madison, carefully stroking her hair, pulling her blanket over her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the forehead. 

Not forgetting his wife, he also gave Martha a kiss before quietly inquiring about the day at CIN’s head office.

“Well, other than the occasional call from curious people, things have mostly been quiet at the office. What about you dear? You guys must be in chaos mode now that the election is in a few weeks” said Martha.

“Don’t remind me. First of all, we have to find a substitute chair of fundraising. Secondly, we’ve been swamped with calls from voters and texts in social media asking if the allegations by the other parties that I was an extremist were true. One lady asked if I was going to forbid her to go to her place of worship! The nerve of those other parties!”

Martha held up her finger again to signal Drew he was getting a little too agitated and loud, they resumed to a hushed tone, discussing the rest of the day’s events.

***

Tugman was in his element, with recent polls suggesting he was firmly in the lead to be the next Prime Minister of Canada. His party focused on the ideals of inclusion, Keynesian economics and welfare, while his opponents touted their more conventional approaches to government funding. 

Walking amidst a flurry of cameras snapping shots of himself and his family, he took Alanna and Alisha’s hand, walking in step with Sandra who was squinting from all the flashes.

With his family behind him, Tugman stepped up to a podium and began his usual spiel about the need for government intervention to save the economy from nosediving into a severe recession. “Our country has a healthy debt to GDP ratio, and if you compare us among the other large economies of the world, we are in a good position to borrow more money if needed to support our economy and social services.”

“Sir, what do you have to say about the current tariff war situation with the US? Would you take down all trade restrictions if you are elected?” one reporter asked.

“Canada needs to stand up to countries that are larger than itself, and it’s time we do not let others bully Canada into disadvantageous trade deals. As Prime Minister of Canada, I would not only enforce the new tariffs, but I would further look to developing stronger economic ties particularly with Europe and Southeast Asia.” The aides held out their hands to indicate he had no more time for questions, and Tugman confidently walked back into his bus with his family, ready to make another appearance at the next campaign stop.

Like Drew, Tugman was confident that the time for change in government was long overdue, and that they were the ones to usher it in.

***

Suddenly, Drew woke up to the crash of glass breaking and the screams of his daughter Madison, and he rushed into her bedroom to see a large brick amidst broken glass on the floor beside her daughter’s bed. 

“Honey, are you alright?” said Drew as he held out his hands for Madison to come to him, hugging her and making sure she was okay before instructing Martha to call the police. He then picked up a piece of paper tied to the brick and shook his head as he read it out: Get out of our city pagan freak! In addition, there were vulgar words crudely written on the note as well, too crude for his Madison to see or hear.

After giving accounts of what happened to the best of their ability, the Abouesses tried to sleep despite just being shaken by the brazen attack. A police detail remained on site to ensure their safety, and holding their daughter between them in the master bed, Drew knew that this was his opportunity to champion the Indigenous cause. The attack was the spark needed to hopefully ignite the Aboriginal movement into a burning flame, and consequently into an unstoppable fire. 

The next morning, after finally falling asleep with all the anxiety weighted inside, Drew woke up and roused his wife and daughter, insisting they go to work and daycare despite the attack. 

“When they see us scared, that’s already half the battle lost for us. We must stand unwavering against them, showing we are not afraid of their scare tactics,” said Drew. He patted his daughter’s head, and reassured her everything would be okay. “Can you be brave for Daddy? I know it’s a lot to ask of you darling, but Daddy really needs you to stand strong, okay?”

Madison nodded slightly to her dad’s request, then she got into his car, headed to her daycare about ten minutes away. Saying goodbye with a kiss to her head, Drew pulled out of the parking lot and headed to his campaign office, where it seemed a flurry of activity threatened to throw the whole office into chaos.

Drew paused before entering the office, where nearly every nook and cranny was occupied with volunteers doing all sorts of jobs such as building signs, printing posters and organizing shirts and caps for everyone to wear. 

Immediately after seeing Drew, Kevin patted his back, asking whether he was okay after the attack last night.

“I’m alright, thanks. Madison and Martha were quite shaken up though, but I think we can make this unfortunate event useful for us. Once it appears on the news that racism against Indigenous people is real in Canada, we’ll earn the sympathies of the rest of our electoral district, and even the rest of Canada. I’ve several news broadcasters seeking short interviews with me later today, and when I’m done speaking, there will be fireworks everywhere, trust me. Did you follow up with the chair of fundraising candidate I selected?” asked Drew.

“Oh, Ms. Potter. Yes, I’ve set up an interview with her later tomorrow for you, if that’s okay? I believe it’s at 12:30 in the afternoon.”

“Okay Kevin, I’ll clear my schedule to make room for her interview. Thanks again Bud. We’d be lost without you, eh?” joked Drew.

“With the salary I’m getting, it hardly seems like it,” said Kevin as he walked off, grumbling to himself. 

Drew smiled at his second in command, then returned to work organizing the entire campaign and finishing the last few details before the big day.

When the afternoon came along, Drew ordered several large pizzas for the entire staff to enjoy, knowing it was important to keep morale up among the staff and volunteers. 

Biting into a cheesy slice and with dripping tomato sauce, it was not the most elegant of lunches but was all-around enjoyed by the crew. Drew was also pleasantly surprised with the cheese filled crusts, which were crispy and gooey at the same time.

Later on that evening, Drew was standing in front of his campaign office with a local news broadcaster asking him questions. 

Showing pictures of the brick and the message tied to it to the reporter, Drew recalled the frightening ordeal. “For several moments, after my daughter screamed, I thought the worst, that my daughter was hurt or in critical danger. I rushed to her room to find glass everywhere, and my daughter hiding in her covers; clearly shaken. Obviously from the message tied to the brick, it seems clear the reason of this attack was racially motivated. It’s been long believed that in Canada, racism was non-existent or just subtle in nature, but after this brazen attack, I believe it is clear racism against Indigenous peoples is very real, and very dangerous. That is why I helped found the organization Canada Is Native, which seeks to compensate Canada’s Aboriginal population for the crimes and abuses they have suffered under Canadian authorities.”

Giving Drew a thumbs-up, the reporter concluded by well-wishing him on his candidacy in the upcoming election. “That was great Mr. Abouesse. Thank you once again for the interview. All the best.”

Drew retreated back to his office and smiled once again. He had been provided with the perfect scenario to drive home his mission; to enforce total and complete reconciliation with the Indigenous peoples of Canada. The racists may not have known it, but they had given him all the ammunition he needed to fight with.

“Dad! Dad!” Madison was pointing at the screen where Drew’s face was plastered across the forty-inch widescreen TV. 

“Looks like you’re famous now honey. It’s good for Maddy, keeps her from thinking back to that attack,” said Martha.

“Did the window guys come to fix Madison’s window yet?” Drew chanced a quick glance upstairs before listening to Martha’s telling of what happened.

“Our little princess kept interrupting the glass fixer the entire time he was working. I had my hands full cooking lunch while trying to keep an eye on Maddy who kept going to watch the repairman. He noticed our daughter’s interest in what he was doing and the man simply smiled and said he had a boy about Maddy’s age too. Said the kids are naturally curious at their age.”

“Well, I got to introduce the CIN to the public today. Nothing like free publicity, eh?” Drew said chuckling.

“Oh it’s good for you, but busy for us at the organization. We had a record number of calls coming in, and some even committed to donations to help the cause.”

As he watched the TV, Drew listened to his own voice being broadcasted across Ottawa. “I believe it is clear racism against Indigenous peoples is very real, and very dangerous.” 

Putting her hand on Drew’s shoulder, Martha sighed in resignation, “I just hope we don’t attract anymore negative attention than need be. Madison is only three, she needs to feel safe in her own home.” 

“Don’t worry dear, I’m not throwing you and Maddy under the bus. But I understand I can’t spend the amount of time you guys need me for, and for that I’m sorry. If I could satisfy both conditions, I would, honest. I just…we just really need this.”

His wife shook her head looking at Drew and she gave him a kiss, while reaffirming their support for him, “From the moment I met you, I knew you were passionate about freedom for your people. That’s one of the reasons I married you in the first place. I didn’t marry a coward now, did I?”

Drew smiled at Martha, thanking her for the support, then continued watching the news story anxious to find out what the future had in store for them all.

***

Tugman lovingly looked at his family, slumbering from the exhaustive whirlwind tour of Canada on the campaign trail. Having finished an evening speech in Winnipeg, the entire campaign team was headed west, deep into right-wing territory with stops in Regina, Edmonton, Calgary, Kelowna and Vancouver.

Glancing left outside the tinted windows, the flat, mountainless landscape attested to the fact they were in the Prairies of Canada, an agricultural belt known for its hot summers and frigid winters. When the lights of passing cars illuminated parts of their surroundings, he could see the wheat and corn were ready for harvesting, whether for animal feed or human consumption he could only guess.

“Can’t sleep Rob?” While Tugman was watching the window, his secretary, Jay, was watching him from behind.

As he looked back, he nodded his head in affirmation. Whispering in a hushed tone, he asked how long it would be before they reached Saskatchewan’s capital.

“Shouldn’t be long. We’ve been on the road for several hours now. Don’t worry Rob, we won’t be late for your speech.”

After a moment of silence, Tugman whispered back, seeking Jay’s opinion. “Is it worth it Jay? I mean sacrificing time with family to lead a nation? Alanna and Alisha have missed a couple of weeks of school now to stay with us on the campaign trial. I don’t even remember the last time we watched a movie together. What do you think?”

The secretary stroked his chin as if contemplating something wise to say before responding, “I think all that we could ask is that our families stick with us thick or thin. I think they will understand why we’re too busy to spend time with them. But most importantly they still know that we love them. That’s what matters in the end. Never forget to show love to your family whenever you can.”

Tugman watched his slumbering family, and he suddenly felt a wave of affection for them, appreciating all they had given up for their father and husband so he could pursue his dreams of being Prime Minister. 

As the dull rumble of the bus’s engine lulled him to sleep, Tugman’s eyelids drooped lower and lower till sleep engulfed his mind, easing his mind off of politics for a while at least. 

When morning arrived, Tugman was gently shaken awake by Jay who informed him that they had arrived in Regina safe and sound. Looking out the window, the rays of sunlight were beginning to shine, casting a beautiful glow amongst the city’s buildings. 

After washing up and preparing for breakfast, the whole family and supporting workers entered a building where catering had been ordered to feed the team. 

While Sandra picked out food for herself and her daughters, Tugman found it hard to restrain himself from piling on the bacon and sausage, but he realized that a part of being Prime Minister was dependent upon first impressions on people. Being fit and able to restrain his hunger would be beneficial to aid his popularity amongst the voters. If voters voted with their eyes, he would be the one to beat. Sitting with his family, Sandra had given Alanna and Alisha some scrambled eggs with a dribble of ketchup, which the kids wolfed down quickly. 

“Mom! Alisha got more bacon than me! S’not fair!”

“Sis, you’re a liar. Mom gave us each three pieces. You ate one of yours already!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

Rattling his spoon on a glass, Tugman cleared his throat and shook his head at his girls. “Alanna, Alisha. I don’t want to have to say again, either you will behave or you will be sent to stay in the bus the whole campaign. Do I make myself clear girls?”

Clearly embarrassed, both girls kept their heads down and there was much head nodding and agreement with how Tugman handled the situation, allowing the conversation in the room to resume.

Sandra tapped Tugman on his shoulder and had a smirk on her face as she told him her thoughts: “Now you know how I feel when I’m stuck taking care of our daughters, eh?”

While he shook his head, Tugman praised his wife for her work, “I don’t know how you do it Dear, but I’m grateful I have you to take care of the girls. Although there’s been times I wished they would grow up to be well-mannered, mature women faster.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ll soon be wishing for more time with the girls before they grow up. I hear an empty nest can be quite lonely—you know, when the girls leave for university and such,” advised Sandra.

“I find that really hard to believe Sandra. I mean, just look at today? They nearly caused a ruckus over a strip of bacon. I can’t wait till they grow up, really.”

Jay walked up to Tugman’s table and subtly mentioned that it was time to prepare for his speech at the steps of the city hall. Tugman followed and walked with his secretary, as he was quickly refreshed on the material for the speech, getting in a tinted car which drove to the municipal building. 

Looking out the window at the growing crowd of reporters, cameramen and party supporters, he took a breath to calm himself down before stepping outside into the blinding flashes of cameras and hubbub of the crowd. Stepping onto the podium, he adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat before addressing the crowd with his practiced smile and charming demeanor.

“If I am to be elected as Prime Minister, one of the first things we would do is to manage the supply of grains, produce and dairy imported to Canada, and to protect local producers and farmers from foreign companies that practice dumping in the market. We know that dumping devastates local producers and so there needs to be drastic action to protect them.”

“Sir, does this mean you’ll put tariffs on imported goods from the US and the rest of the world?”

“I believe that in order to protect Canadian industry, tariffs will be a necessary tool to be used carefully in managing our imports.”

After several more questions and a concluding speech, Tugman held up his hands to signal he would not be taking any more questions, and was quickly whisked away to his ride and driven to the campaign bus. As he arrived, the team had finished with breakfast and were waiting for the Prime Minister before heading west on the road again. 

Jay was the last to enter the bus, and giving a thumbs up, he signalled to the driver to start their trip to Edmonton. 

As the minutes turned to hours, the girls amused themselves by watching cartoons on Sandra’s laptop, while Tugman discussed with his strategists on what he should say at the stop in Edmonton. 

“Perhaps you should mention the plan to phase out fossil fuels and to aid the transition to clean energy? We need to show Albertans that the federal government will not abandon them once their main source of income is phased out. Without petroleum products, Alberta would turn to a ‘have not’ province; something none of us would like to see. We need to ensure Alberta can stand on its own two legs when focusing on clean industry without depending on oil,” said one strategist.

“The question though is how to wean Alberta off the oil industry. The prosperity oil has brought to Alberta cannot be understated, and most Albertans know how important the sector is to their economy.”

“But we must stress how important transitioning to clean energy is for Canada, let alone Alberta. I’m afraid the cost of dealing with the climate crisis is far more than the foregone oil revenues for Alberta.”

Tugman thought for a bit, listening to the advice being given before suggesting an idea of his own. “Trying to fill the hole if fossil fuels are phased out will be tough, and handouts through welfare can only last so long. So perhaps we need a long-term solution to this problem.” 

“What do you have in mind Mr. Tugman?” asked one aide worker.

“How about a program to help displaced oil workers be retrained in other industries like healthcare and education which are currently in need of workers. The federal government can fund the tuition costs to retrain them to make sure they have an opportunity to smoothly transition to a hopefully stable job.”

Tugman’s suggestion was met with much agreement and acceptance, and a consensus was soon made to use this promise at the speech in Edmonton.