Caught in a chaos (2)

The blaring siren ringtone of my 'chinko'(China) Nokia torchlight woke me. I had dozed off on the couch amidst reading a novel and couldn't believe I was still asleep till 8am.

With a sigh, I sluggishly scrambled for my phone on the side stool. Like a fellow over dosed on codeine, I answered.

It was Okete on the other end of the phone, requesting we meet up in Owerri. Ignorant of happenings in that town, I picked up my handbag, brushed my dreadlocks, and zoomed off trusting Okete to communicate his exact location by SMS.

 I could smell the hostile air of Owerri as I alighted the bus at Douglas;the town had become a sparring ground for some time; the state governor turned her people against each other so I heard. the strength of the sun had begun to wane amidst the unrelenting heat. It wasn't business as usual. The road side sellers had disappeared and the place was almost deserted. Scouting around the place i looked for something to reassure me that I was not in the wrong town. I dialled Okete for the seventeenth time and this time he answered with stories of how he just left Owerri; I could feel words boiling inside me, at a hundred degree ready to burst, with a ghast; I rained vengeance shielded in words on him.

"You don't just leave vengeance for God, get a gun and lit his ass!" Ebony cut through my swear call, decades of inhaling marijuana had fine tuned his voice to a deep baritone. He stood about 6ft 2" with skin so dark that one would believe the dust from which he was molded from had a mixture of gold and charcoal.

"Thanks, you are far too kind," I replied. I couldn't believe a man had stopped in the mist of his personal chaos to eavesdrop on my frustration. My adversaries in these past weeks seemed to have overwhelmed me. I had gone from a broken relationship to a broken phone; from a lost phone to a lost route. I stood there at Douglas, praying that time would rewind.

I damned Okete for bringing me far out to a place where I knew no one. I damned him for leaving me in a town where peace had been abandoned.

The chattering footsteps of the crowd racing towards me dragged my attention off Ebony. Sliding my phone into my handbag, I mounted the culvert in order to own a view of what masquerade made the people run so hard that I could hear their hearts pounding loudly against their chests. Then bullets filled the air....

The Woman

 Rebekah had never had a problem with her job before, sure when people asked her why she chose her job they were left surprised when they learned no great emotion pushed her to her job as a councellor to people struggling with depression and/or sucidal tendencies. In fact they were even more bewildered when they found out she enjoyed her job. But it so happened that particular Tuesday with grey skies hanging low with rain Rebekah wished she had been anywhere in the world doing any other thing, maybe because it was raining fervently and Rebekah so despised the rain, or maybe because she had a fight with Miriam the closest person to her in this world and had left it unresolved, whatever the reasons were Rebekah wished she had not agreed to come out to speak to the obviously broken woman before her. Yet she knew no matter how many times she wished she didn't agree to take the case she would never turn down any opportunity to help save a life.
Coming out of her musings Rebekah cleared her throat as she prepared herself to talk to the woman 
  "so.. she started, my name is Rebekah Aliyu"
she paused to see if there would be any reaction from the woman only to be met with a silence so loud it wailed of despair, but Rebekah didn't mind she respected her space because experience taught her nobody wanted to leave this world without telling their story, almost like a final attempt to leave some kind of mark on the universe; but she doubted the universe ever noticed.. Rebekah moved slowly to the ledge where the unknown woman perched, an attempt to make sure she didn't scare the woman. Rebekah didn't know how long she sat there as the rain fell with a vengeance, she tried to suppress shivers as she felt cold creeping through her. As if the woman felt her discomfort she spoke out loud
   "nothing you say today will stop me, Rebekah recognized her accent  but couldn't place it she thought maybe she was from the Brumm tribe in Jos but couldn't be sure.
   "today i will do what i've not been able to" she continued in her lyrical accent
   "and maybe my sister will forgive me for being a coward" Rebekah saw silent tears fall down her eyes and wished with all her might that there was no evil in the world, but Alas it wasn't so!
   "what happened? Rebekah asked timidly. The woman was silent for a long time she thought the woman didn't hear her question over the pounding rain or she heard it but chose to ignore it.
    "I was born in Jos  once, again the woman startled Rebekah, my parents died one day when some gunmen who were part of the Boko Haram terrorist group invaded our village and started killing- the tears that were once falling was now pouring 
     "it was on a Sunday, we had just come back from church when we heard gunshots followed by shouting and crying, it turned out some gunmen had entered the house of our pastor who had just preached that afternoon and killed him putting his head on a stake and burned his house down with his family inside as soon as my parents heard it they immediately panicked telling me to pack clothes for my sister and i, i think i was sixteen then and my sister Rejoice was twelve we ran outside to see masked gunmen enter the compound, and simultaneously like it had been planned from the beginning my parents threw themselves at them while screaming for me to carry my sister and run and never stop. RUN! KEEP GOING!! my father screamed, i did as i was told, i ran and didn't stop, not even when i heard the sound of a gunshot followed by my mother's scream, i didn't stop when i tripped over the corpse of Usman a young boy who often helped my mother in the market. I ran till i could run no more arriving at the city by three in the morning"
  Rebekah's heart twisted, she had heard of the atrocities committed by the terrorist group but had never seen anyone personally affected by their actions since she didn't grow up in Nigeria; her mother having whisked her out of the country to study in England. 
   "When we arrived at the city i went to my aunt's house, she haboured my sister and i and did her best by us, God bless her soul" Rebekah wondered if her aunt's life was taken by the terrorist group but didn't know how to ask, as if reading her thoughts the woman answered her
"she died of stroke some years back, leaving rejoice and i truly alone for we were now with no living relatives. I tried my best for Rejoice, making sure she continued schooling, as i started buying and selling tomatoes. Things seemed to be going well finally for rejoice and i when one day Rejoice came back from school with a friend whom she introduced as Khadija , i don't know why but the moment i met Khadija i felt uneasy, she was a nice girl but her lifestyle was too fast she had too many male friends, i kept telling Rejoice but she refused to listen, so finally i decided to stop talking. One day rejoice came to me and told me Khadijah was pregnant for a boy called Abdul; a lowlife thug in her street, but he rejected her and the baby, she told me she was going to talk to him on Khadijah's behalf. I warned her against it, i felt Khadija should clean her own mess, but Rejoice was no longer a child and i could not force her to do anything . Three days later.. i think, i was just coming back from the market when Aisha my fellow market woman came screaming, i couldn't understand much but i heard my sister's name and that was enough for me. I followed her out dread immediately making my stomach churn. We ran to a compound and there lay my sister's body her head severed from her body... Rebekah heart broke a million times as she heard the raw pain in her voice and could do nothing but stare at the woman as she cried,her veins straining against her forehead, mucus running down her nose into her mouth..She closed her eyes trying to block the pain, she felt cold but it wasn't from the rain now abating. As Rebekah opened her eyes she found herself staring into the woman's eyes being swallowed by the immense sadness buried in there
    "her body was just there- the woman squeaked, her body was just there. I didn't know what to do, my life had just ended right in front of me. When i asked what happened it turned out that Abdul got into a fight with Rejoice over Khadija and used a cutlass to attack her plucking Khadija's eye in the process. She turned to Rebekah and asked " tell me what kind of anger leads you to take a life? A life you can never recreate. TELL ME!! she screamed anguish. Rebekah looked away in shame for she too had been asking the same question all her life and had never received any answer. HAHAHA Rebekah looked up in surprise to see the woman laughing wildly  aan- and do you know what? A man killed an innocent woman and plucked the eye of another and he's been in jail for twelve years still awaiting trial!!!   NIGERIA WE HAIL THEE!! she mock saluted wildly.
Rebekah couldn't move and she didn't know why, she couldn't move when the woman stood up, she still couldn't move when the woman looked at her one final time before she jumped. And she didn't move until an officer she didn't know came to get her from the ledge. Someone wrapped a blanket round her but she didn't, couldn't feel. As she slowly passed the woman's corpse her body bent unnaturally the only thought that went through her mind was that she never asked the woman her name.



Hey people.... so i decided to put this up. The sad and heart breaking thing is this story is actually true. This happened to someone who decided to share this with me so hopefully i can share with the world, Shitty and violent things are happening and just because we've never witnessed it doesn't mean it isn't. It is.

Caught in a chaos

    "Twenty-three percent! After all the time my phone spent; just twenty-three percent? Uju belted out at me. This wasn't the welcome I expected I craved it different. I wanted to be wrong about her, I wished she would free herself off the charade of solitude she had confined herself to.
"that was a mistake" I responded absentmindedly; the aura of the incident at Douglas still breaths cold in me, never thought traveling could turn to the devil's dance which have left me jinxed,I sensed. The drive to Owerri was a house ride in an old iron bugged bus that battered me on the move; the liquor drowned driver who thought he was an Olympic racer never missed a hole,with the precision of an archer he bumped into every hole leaving my melanated skin breakfast to the curled iron bugs propping out at the ends of the bus.

    "Don't try this again" the familiar voice of Uju yanked me back to the present; couldn't believe I let myself be swallowed up in Thoughtland after the decision I made not to be perturbed of recent happening. The voice came a second time; " I don't car...oh! It's nice to know you dont care", reaping the words off her almost saggy lips, I ninja-ed her arrogance mid air . A match to her "can't be bothered" attitude; wouldn't let her nonchalance disrupt the consolation i'd already given myself.
"You pulled the trigger"
"No he did".
 I kept having this deranged argument in my head; It took the strength of a psychic to convince my conscience, the bullet which left blood dripping down the huge sketchy body of that stranger didn't go through the firearm in my possession and as much wouldn't let anyone add an iota of imbalance to my vibe. I hastened to the bathroom as she seemed to lack words-the butterfly effect. I had to be in Añara before sundown.

   The journey to Owerri the previous day and back to Umuahia today has been stress filled, yet I am in a hurry to embark on another body-battering ride through the same route with an embargo on my mind. How could I jettison this one thought that has left me at loggerheads with the world. Rest hasn't crossed my lane in days; the head compressing migraine which visits when am less rested has come knocking again, this time it brought gongs and drums banging out of sequence as concubine. I knew a proper bed rest would send me into a torturing trance; I knew a water therapy would be a welcoming substitute as I stepped into the bath and twisted the shower handle. I allowed water struggling out of the perforated disc to fall on upon my face; making way through my breast down to my feet,I was aligned with its sleekness. Peace took over me while I sank deeper in thought...

Arinze

This is the story of a boy called Arinze.
Arinze had a life, he had a mother that loved him. One day Arinze left home to a nearby store so he could buy tomatoes for his mom.. Arinze was like that; a kind loving boy, he would help his mother cook, he would help her wash. He was not a perfect boy for often times as is normal with all humans he would get irritated and quarrel with his mother over things like: why he hadn't washed his clothes or cleaned his room as was common with kids his age. But what set Arinze apart from his mates was the fact that he always felt contrite and ashamed of himself after. He would never be happy or play with his friends until he had made things better with his mother. He would wash his clothes and clean up whatever mess that was the cause of the quarrel, then he would go to his mom and never leave her side until he was sure she was unhappy no longer.
Arinze was the kind of son every mother wished she had. For as long as he could remember Arinze had nobody but his mother, he didn't know his father who took off the minute he heard his longtime girlfriend was pregnant with his child, but Arinze never felt alone or the need to have a father because he knew the lengths his mother went to make sure he lacked nothing. His mother came home one day with a stricken look on her face, concerned as he always was about her, he asked her why she looked like that for her to tell him how two of her colleagues who were staunch supporters of the Biafran movement were shot dead in a violent riot, as she told him this she couldn't help but feel fear toward her only child, her only family remaining, but for unknown reasons she didn't voice her concerns, she couldn't think of anything happening to him. One day Arinze left home to buy tomatoes for his mother, the moment he left, his mother heard news of a violent exchange between Biafran agitators and the Nigeria police force in the nearby street, panic gripped her heart as she prayed with all her heart, mind and might to every god in the universe that nothing happened to her son, with every passing minute and hour her stomach tensed as she waited in futility for her darling boy to come home.
One day Arinze went to a nearby store to buy tomatoes for his mother and never came back.



Violence is not the answer. Never was, never will be.
SAY NO TO VIOLENCE!! SAY NO TO KILLING!!! 

   

 Hello beautiful people, whats poppin?? I know there are diverse readers out there who come from different backgrounds, this short story is about a woman who tries to make things better with her daughter who she left as a child. If my mom ever wrote a letter it's how i see it going down in my head so...enjoy!!



Ada,
  Today you are 16 and old enough to understand my actions. I love you with all my heart, and everyday i regret not being in your life, i regret not being there for all your tears, laughs, triumphs, i deeply regret that someone else holds my place in your heart but know that you would always have mine. I know the thoughts currently running through your mind; why am i writing you now? What do i want from you? Baby i hope that by the end of this letter you will have all your questions answered.
I remember many years ago as a youth i never really knew what i wanted in life, my friends and the people around me had figured out their lives, some wanted to go to the university, some wanted to travel, others wanted to get married, but i didn't know what i wanted to do with my life and sadly didn't find out until it was too late .
I would never forget January 16 1997 , i was on my way to my mother's store when i met the man of my youthful dreams; your father (moon as he was known) i always wondered why they called him moon; maybe because he was as dreamy as the moon, he had everything i thought a man ought have, a fair skin and a heart to match, a gentle voice and soul. A lot of girls would have gladly followed him to the ends of the earth but for unknown reasons he chose and courted me. When your father came into my life i was so taken with him i stopped worrying about my life and instead filled it with him, which is why when i became pregnant it was easier to just marry him, i didn't know how to survive out in the world on my own, so  i married him. I married him because it was the easiest way, i married him knowing i was being selfish for i could never truly love him the way he did me, i married him even though i knew i shouldn't have and for that singular act i'm sorry.
We were married for five years; during the first two years i tried my best to make it work, i tried my best to bury my restlessness because i had the most precious gift in the world; you. But as the years went by the pull in my heart became stronger and i could no longer ignore it. I realised that what i wanted to be, "who" i'd wanted to be had always been right in front of me but i didn't see it. I wanted to be happy and being a housewife didn't make me happy. I think your father sensed me pulling away from him, i think deep down he had always known i was never truly his but when he sensed my restlessness he began to truly fear and did all he could to make me stay, but i couldn't.
Baby i'm sorry for being a coward, when moon went to work one morning i packed some of the important things i held dear to me. I packed light so he wouldn't notice, you might not remember but when you were little you had this teddy bear you carried everywhere, i hated that teddy, always thought it looked creepy but you loved it, you might not remember it because i took it with me, baby girl i took it with me because i couldn't take you. I was on a journey and i couldn't uproot you from a cozy life with loved ones to one of uncertainty, i knew moon would take care of you and love you more than i ever could, and from what i've heard i was right. Yes baby girl i've had my eyes on you for a long time now and i always will. I've been to your school, i've watched you play, i've watched you grow but i'm afraid that's all i can ever do; watch from the sidelines. 
I regret that i can't have you in my life but i don't regret the choices i made, i don't regret leaving you with moon, i can only hope that perhaps one day you would feel better towards me. I have to stop here but before i go tell your father i'm sorry, for i know i hurt him deeply, i know i shattered him the night i left, i almost changed my mind a million times before i reached the door, but i had to go. Tell him hurting him was the most painful thing i have ever gone through, tell him i don't deserve him.. i never did. You and your dad are the only family i have and always will have, everything i am/have is yours when i'm gone, for i fear it will be soon. I just needed to know that i told you how much i love you and how much you mean to me before i no longer can. Take care of your father for me.. tell him to remember the days spent outside mama's store, tell him to never forget the smiles he put on my face. I know i'm being selfish but i pray he never forgets me. Until we meet to part no more my beautiful angel, goodbye.
                                       your mother,
                                         chidiadi.


Hope you enjoyed this and reading it wasn't too tedious for you. PLEEEASSSE share your thoughts with me. thanks.

You were 20 and he was 25,you were igbo but he was not,at first you didn’t want to get too attached to him because you knew igbo people especially parents were tribalistic;you were tribalistic too. He was a staunch Deeper Life member by birth and you were an Anglican by naturalization but you didn’t like the whole Deeper Life stuff because you see most of them claim to be “too self righteous “. You disliked everything about Deeper life because of the way your classmate Akuabia in your Jss class used to look at you disgustingly because you wore earrings and this irritated you then,and you’ve sworn never to marry any deeper life member or even the likes of its sister churches because that was exactly what tore your family apart -your father’s siblings. It all happened in your presence and you made decisions like,any church that is capable to tear up a family is not worth associating with. But you loved him anyway,you looked beyond his flaws and saw a different person and most times you wished he wasn’t a Deeper Life member -that alone gave you sleepless nights. You loved the way he looked into your eyes and those butterflies in his eyes made your heart beat too fast. You always stole a glance when he wasn’t looking and avoided him catching you stealing a glance,sometimes he caught you and you never looked at his face for too long to avoid initiating a kiss. Maybe,you were shy or was just acting all female. You loved the way he held your hands with so much strength and you felt safe at the same time felt the fear of someone that didn’t want to loose you. His hold was always too tight but passionate and you pretended like it hurt you just to draw his attention like the last time you told him it hurts,he said sorry and you replied saying sorry wasn’t enough,he asked you if you needed more than the sorry and you said no; you knew you needed more than the sorry but you wanted to keep cool so as not to act all demanding or like you wanted him more. After all,you are a girl and he should know what to do and not ask questions,you thought out loud.
You were in the same University but different departments. You met him in one of the most unexpected places and what used to seem like a normal friendship between two acquaintances sprung into emotional feelings. At first you would see his calls and ignore them but soon you started keeping tracks to know when he called. When he eventually called,first your heart skips and goes on a feasting journey and you wished the call never ended. On one of those days you sensed the call was about to end,you popped “so do you eat Afang Soup?”,he laughed over the phone and reminded you it was the specialty of his people. You didn’t know whether he burst into a boisterous laughter because you asked the question or because he sensed you were fighting to keep the conversation going but you didn’t mind anyway because what mattered was that the conversation was going on.
You were different from him in so many ways but alike in most ways. Maybe that was what ignited the flame of what you shared with him. You were igbo,he was Efik. You were an Anglican but he wasn’t, much more a Deeper Life member. He was in his mid twenties while you were just kicking off 20 but he loved stories,he told lots of stories,read them and loved writing them just like you did. You exchanged stories and laughed at characters in the stories,sometimes you became quiet while he read these stories because you thought you were the character in the story,you were the character. The story that had so much effect on you was the one titled “Cold Night”. The first night he read this story to you during one of those cold nights you visited on weekends,it made you quiet the whole weekend. It made you wet you panties. For the first time you wanted him. You were quiet because you didn’t know whether the story was his own modest way of saying,”I want to get in between your legs”. You were quiet, you hated his thought but same time you loved it but that night you just wanted to sleep.
It was the weekend that changed you countenance over him,you were a church girl and you wondered how Papa will feel if he knew you slept outside the school and more in a “non igbo ” guy’s house. You left him because making out was not in your belief of a relationship. You were a virtuous woman before you left that weekend,you didn’t know anymore because your monthly visitor hasn’t come in three consecutive months.
Maybe,your Deeper Life brother boyfriend touched you and you didn’t know. You kept telling yourself nothing happened but maybe nothing happened and your hormones were just toiling with you. You couldn’t eat those months,you only stayed up in your room,rolled the bed cover over your legs and tried to recollect papa’s warning,”you can not bring in pre-marital pregnancy into my house “.
Last week,you told mama and with tears and anger in her eyes took you to the family doctor. You only got over that weekend when the doctor said, “Nenye,you have an irregular menstrual cycle”.
  



This piece was written by one of the bright minds of our generation. Precious Amaefule.

You can read more of her thoughts and stories on www.amaefuleprecious.wordpress.com  

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