Julie, Mark, Krissy and I quickly walked through the dark streets, several helicopters hovering above, while dozens of kids threw rocks through store windows, set off small firecrackers, and chanted while waving their flags. I hid mine in my jacket, afraid that I might be attacked if opponents to my cause caught sight of them. Fearing for our safety, we headed for the nearest subway station, hoping to make our way home. Three city buses passed us, each loaded with 50 or so riot squad members. They arrived at the subway entrance just before we, took their places, and forbade us from entering.

We decided to make our way further down the long downtown street, to friendlier territory. We passed a large group of boys who were huddled at the centre of the street, a sea of blue flags above them. Just a we were passing them, a loud sound went off, like a gun shot, and hundreds of boys began running in our direction. We found ourselves in the middle of a stampede, and saw no other alternative but to run with them, in fear of being trampled on.

Julie turned the corner onto a smaller street, and Krissy and I followed suit. When things calmed down, we regrouped, only to find that Mark was missing. Krissy freaked out, and began calling his name through the streets. We eventually found him, who had kept going with the stampede.

When we arrived at our destination, our supposed safe haven, the riot police had surrounded the building and refused to let us in or anybody else out. A group of sovereignists had gathered at the entrance to the building and were threatening violence against anyone coming in or out of the building.

Inside, thousands of people were celebrating. No, this wasn’t a war. Our group, the NO Committee, had just won Quebec’s second referendum on sovereignty.

It happened on October 30, 1995. The Quebec separatist government had vigorously campaigned using propaganda, misinformation, fraud, and criminal activity to convince its population to secede from Canada, forming a new country. Despite their efforts, the population still voted to remain in Canada by a less than 1% margin.

That was the night the leader of the government blamed its failure on "money and the ethnic vote". That was the night Canada breathed a sigh of relief. That was the night I realized that the Quebec people have been and would continue to be held hostage by a minority who would stop at nothing to form a new country for the sake of forming a new country. That was the night I decided to spread the word about what was happening in my homeland.