Israel,Negev,2050. The city is an oasis, a beacon of hope in a world where sea levels rise and winters bring a chill so harsh it cuts to the bone. International funds have poured in, transforming the once-arid land into a forested haven, much like Dubai reshaped its own desert sands into a metropolis.
Yet, as the globe faces its trials, conflict brews. Cities once at peace now vie for power, casting envious eyes upon our prospering colony. And here I stand, a lone soldier among the dunes, draped in my solar panel shield, a fabric designed to cast the relentless sands aside and keep me warm in winter and cold at summer.
I am a modern Bedouin, like the tribes of my father's tales in congo near Kinchassa city, navigating the dunes with technology as my camel. Around my neck, a simple ring, known in the hebrew language as 'the belt of the goat.' In my family's eyes, I am the white sheep, the beacon of pride, while my brother—well, he's always been the black sheep, questioning our presence here, our purpose. "Why defend this city?" he asks. "Why not leave?"
But in my veins runs the blood of the proud with a mother from Israel and a father from Kinchassa, the unyielding. In our culture, the pride is paramount, a force that binds us tighter than gravity itself. And no army, no matter how fierce, can make a Swali guardian falter. We stand tall, guardians of Israel, against the cold and the conflict. For pride, for family, for the future we've built here in the sands turned to forests.