Amina
Of the many messages I saw, I opened hers first because it bore a familiar name, Amina. And the message read thus ..
" Hi Okadi, my name is Amina, I am from Kaduna and I really admire your work, may I have your number, please?"
We exchanged numbers, and we talked over the phone every night, I had called first with a different number, speaking to her in Hausa Language almost through out our conversation.
She could not guess who I was, and I made it known to her that I was disappointed at the fact that she didn't have my number anymore. She apologized and said she couldn't explain what happened, and begged that I told her who I was. I had called her by her full name, Amina Hassan. She was sure I knew her.
She could never have imagined it was I, for she never thought I knew Hausa Language and very well too. She read a of my poems, and stories but never reacted to anyone of them, and I didn't notice.
She talked about it and explained why, I felt pity and told her it would all pass.
I called to wish her a happy Eid Mubarak, and playfully asked that she sent me my share of rice and meat. We talked for a little more while, then she asked that I wrote a poem tittled "AMINA" with a promise that I'd never share it with anyone nor post it anywhere.
That wasn't going to be so much of a big deal but it just didn't make complete sense. I asked her what she would want me to write about and she said, " write about your friend who would soon die of cancer.
At that moment, words were stuck in my mouth until I managed to exclaim "wow" before I asked, "what is going on Amina?"
She promised to tell me after I wrote the poem, by then, I already suspected that she had cancer. I really hoped I was wrong.
I tried to write the poem anyway, but my mind was blank. I scrambled for words, but every word seemed wrong.
two days later, I couldn't come up with any poem and she wouldn't say anything to me until I had sent her the poem.
She called in the morning to ask if it was ready, and I said it would be ready tonight.
I sent a poem of a few lines. She replied with smiley face and a heart Emoji. I said "your turn" and she replied with an "ok"
I called in the morning and said " Hello Amina" when the phone was answered. But a sad voice replied " Amina ta ratsu (Amina is dead)
©️Okadi
The fall from grace to grass
"Shoo, go out of this place" a woman, a shop owner, said as she pricked the mad man with a broom. The mad man reluctantly leaves the shop premises. Like every mad man, the mad man slept at where ever the night came upon him, he simply looked for a place he deemed comfortable and layed his back for the night. He left such places as soon as it was dawn again, but most times he slept and did not wake up on time and when the owners of the place he had slept came in, he was treated like the mad man he was.
No mad man or woman had ever been born so, at least, non that i have ever heard of. They were usually born normally like every other normal person. And Chike's case was not an exception.
Will you marry me? Chike had asked Grace, a two hundred level anatomy student in a Nigerian university, at the university's relaxation centre. Grace did not expect the almighty question, especially not at that time. Chike was an ex student of the school, je had graduated two years before. I am not exactly sure where these two met, but i know for sure that they were full time love birds. And of course, it was no surprise that Grace joyfully screamed YES. Before Grace graduated from school, Chike who probably had connections to one of the bigest banks in Nigeria, had already started waorking there. Soon after Grace graduated, the love birds tied the knot in a holy matrimony, having previously done all the traditional rights.
The union was a very blessed one. Chike agrees that his wife was a blessing to him and some times, he would say she was his lucky charm. Things were going so smoothly for the couple and particularly for Chike. He boasted about the good fortunes his wife had brought him. At work, he was made the customers care manager. He had other businesses also that he had invested into and which were doing just alright. As though all of the good things happening to his family were not enough, Chike's wife was delivered of a bouncing baby girl. According to Chike, the new baby was the best of every good thing that had happened to the family. Chike and his wife were so happy to have had her. They took very good care of her, making sure she did not lack anything good. Chike was very hard working and deligent at his work and his hard work plus deligence soon paid off and he was made a branch manager at one of the newest branches of the bank. It was not long after that promotion, Grace, Chike's wife was delivered of their second baby, this time, a boy. Their blessing as most people did say " na double double" but for every promotion came a bigger challenge and Chike proved to be equal to the task. He continued to receive recomendations and praises of him were being sang non stop by his superiors.
As time went by, Chike began to secretly seek employment for bigger banks. When he eventually got it, he tendered his resignation letter to the bank. Things continued to go very good, as a matter of fact, things began to go better than they had ever been for the family. About six months after Chike began to work in the new bank, a new central bank governor was appointed by the newly elected president of the country. The new governor of the central bank began to unearth the wrong doings of many chief executive officers of the Nigerian banks. All the chief executive officers who were found wanting one way or the other were replaced. The chief executive officer of the bank where Chike currently worked was also found wanting and consequently replaced. In turn, the new chief executive officer ordered every senior officer in the back that had joined the bank in less than one year ago, should resign. Of course Chike had not been there for a year, and so he had to resign. But it was not going to be a big deal, at least, it was not suppose to be. Chike had made name for himself in the banking sector, getting another job was never going to be a problem to him. Soon, Chike began to look for another job, but the big problem was that the banks he went to found him too qualified and experienced, but in the end, they would deny him the job for that same reason, saying they could not afford to pay him less than he deserved. That was beginning to go on for too long and Chike was becoming very worried but it continued anyway. Chike returned home one evening from job hunt, only to be told that for one reason or the other, the businesses he had invested in had collapsed. How did it even collapse? Well, i am sure they explained it to him and he undertood well. In a twinkle of an eye, everything was had began to crumble. As Chike sat down in confusion, wondering why things had turned upside down for him, his wife began to scream "Chike, Chike, Chike" she was pregnant of their third baby and was probably about to go into labour. Chike hurriedly took her to the hospital. At the hospital, the doctors said Grace was not strong enough to push.
Few hours after Chike had hurriedly taken his wife to the hospital, the doctor came to inform him that she was not strong enough to push out the baby and as a result, an operation was needed to be carried out on her to help bring out the baby. It was their third baby, Grace had safely and peacefully given birth to their previous two children, but why would she not be strong enough to push and an operation be required this time around? Chike wondered. Having informed Chike, the doctor went back in to do what he knew how to do. Not very long after the doctor had gone in, he returned to announce to Chike he had a new baby girl... "what about my wife?" Chike asked. " errrrrrrrrrrm, the doctor stutered, before adding " we did everything we could for her, but i am sorry, we lost her" it was the most devastating news he had heard. " God please, No, God why?" Chike cried as he managed to stay on his feet.
Weeks had gone by since Grace passed away, Chike's mum had come to help nurse the newly born baby as well as help take care of the other children.
Chike soon went out and continued his job hunt, he would not give up, especially for his children. But every day he went searching for a job, he returned home unsuccessful.
As Chike returned home from an unsuccessful job hunt one evening, he was greeted with a letter by his children from their school authority notifying him of their intention to send home defaulters from school in two weeks time. When Grace was alive, she had suggested to her husband that their children be brought out from their school were they paid so much to another where they would pay less, but he would not listen.
The savings on which Chike and his family had been living on was going to finish any time soon, he began to consider bringing out his children from their school to a new one the following term.
Again, Chike relentlessly continues to search for a job. After another unsucccessful search for any job one afternoon, Chike sat at a nearby shop to cool off.
"na wa o!" one man exclaimed. "The tin nearly enter the other building sef" the man added. " chai! This life sef" another man exclaimed. " all of them die o. Three children and one woman, na so the fire burn all of them inside the house" he concluded. " ah ah! Eayaah! Exclaimed Chike. " abeg, bros, where this one happen" he asked. " na wa for u sef dis man, where u from?" the first man angrily asked. If you no get ear, u no get eyes to see where that smoke dey come from?" the man questioned as he pointed at the direction where the fire accident had occured. " Jesus, na wa o!" Chike exclaimed as he turned and saw direction from where the smoke went up. "na my area be that o" he added, as he ran towards that direction. The closer he ran, the clearer it became that the accident was in deed on his street. He could see the smoke was coming from his own building but " the men said three children and one woman" he thought. My two children are in school and will not be home until the next four to five hours time" he thought as he continued to go closer. But as he arrived the scene of the accident, the fire had started from his flat. His children were sent back home from school shortly after he left for job serach, because they had not paid their school fees. The school authority had warned him three weeks ago and had given him an extra week grace. Chike's mum and his children were burned to death in the fire. No one could hold him, he began to scream and shout. Suddenly, he began to laugh, every attempt to hold him down failed.
Such was the sad story of this mad man. More than me, only he can tell his story better. someday, we hope he becomes alright. Only then would he be able to give us a better account of this story. And oh! Do not ask me how the fire started or what started it. I could not possibly know, only the dead people would have details about that.
For the sins of my father
If you are not ready to accept nonsense, don't get married. Women are so full of nonsense and men, very nonsensical.
If the above statement were to be correct, then perhaps, my dad and mum were not ready to get married but they got married anyways. I am the result of their unpreparedness and I was forced to bear witness first hand to the out come of their unworthy marriage.
I don't regret being born. if I did, my only regret would be that I had to call a monster my dad. Growing up, I do not remember having a family in its real Sense. There was just a man and a woman living together under a roof and they shared a son, me. Dad was a boxer but he never fought in any ring, all he did was practice, practice and practice on a punching bag. Just so you know, the punching bag unfortunately, was my mum. Honestly, mum was not perfect, and maybe she enjoyed being punched. Every time dad beat her, she didn't stop insulting him. She would talk and talk and dad would never get tired of hitting her.
Thinking about those times now, I wonder, why did they even get married? These people were sworn enemies, how did they ever get to the conclusion of getting married?
It pained me greatly to see mum being maltreated that way. I didn't know why that happened but I remember that the beatings, boxings and hitting were usually preceded by quarrelling. Dad did less of the talking and quarrelling and did more of the punching while mum did more of the talking and quarrelling and non of the punching.
I remember that dad didn't come home a lot of times but I had no idea why. All of those times when he didn't come home, I ate his food the next morning. For what it's worth, I looked forward to dad not returning home every day because when he didn't return, I got to eat his food and most importantly, mum didn't get to be punched.
But what's interesting was that everytime dad didn't return home, mum was dead worried and stayed up most of the night. In my little mind, I would often wonder if mum was alright. This man beats you everyday, when he is not home, you should be happy. But instead, you worry yourself out for the same man.
I was not sure why he didn't return home sometimes, but as I grew older, I understood he was going out to be with another woman. At least, that's what I usually heard mum say. In his defense, I would often hear dad argue that work actually kept him away .
But if dad was working so hard, he should be earning a lot of money, or at least, enough to pay my school fees. I was just in primary school at the time but it was so difficult for Dad to pay my school fees. Not because he didn't have it, but because, according to mum, he didn't care about me just the same way he never cared about her.
whenever it was time to pay my school fees, mum would always call on her siblings who would always give her the money but not before they ask her to leave the bondage she was in in the name of marriage. Mum's response to them was always one and the same. She could not leave me behind, I was her consolation.
Most times, when mum asked for money for food, she was often ignored by dad. Everytime that happened, mum went to her siblings for financial help. I remember one night, mum had asked dad to give her money to start a petty business so she would not always ask him for money. I heard dad tell her that her business should be taking care of his son. That didn't go down well with mum as she quickly took offence. Although I didn't understand her anger at the time, but I pretty much understand it now. Dad would not bring money for food, not even for his son. Nor would he pay his son's school fees. He never thought his son needed clothes nor a pair of shoes. He didn't care if his son cut his hair or whether his son was sick and needed medical attention. But he put it to her that her job was to take care of his son . Which son? mum asked angrily, as she began to mention all the things he had failed to do for his so called son as a father. Not all the things actually, she didn't finish mentioning them before he pounced on her as he usually did. Mum could not sleep that night as she was in severe pains. Her face was swollen. Her eyes, her nose and her mouth. She looked like someone who was caught stealing in the market place and the angry mob left a touch on her face, if you know what I mean.
I wish I could help mum . Every time he touched her, I was filled with so much anger. I told my mum that if I wasn't so small, I would beat dad for her. She smiled as she held me closer to her self. I further promised mum that all the things dad had been doing to her, when I grew up and married my own wife, I would do them to her in revenge. I could see the displeasure on mum's face the moment I said that.
My son, mum began. You can not punish another person's child for the sins of your father. If anyone is to be punished, it should be your father, and that punishment most come from God alone. Your father is still your father no matter what he does. If you want to revenge for me, when you grow up and marry your own wife, treat her the way you would have loved your dad to treat me, mum concluded. In my head, I was still saying " if I marry I'll beat my wife more than this wicked man is beating my mum. He does not even know how to beat, I'll show him when I get married"
Imagine I grew up that way with no one telling me it was entirely my dad's fault that he maltreated my mum . Imagine the amount of hatred I would have had for an innocent woman whose only wrong was to marry me .
But how did I really want Dad to treat mum ? I just wanted to have the kind of family Mark had. They were a happy family. Mark's dad took him to school on his way to work, his mum brought him back . Mark and his dad talked and laughed together. But I never knew what my dad's teeth looked like. I had never seen him laugh.
Mark's dad was a very gentle man. Every one liked him, I liked him too. I even wished he was my dad. Sometimes, I thought that Mark didn't deserve his dad. Mark was a stupid boy. I seriously have no idea why I thought Mark was stupid, Maybe I was just jealous of him.
Because Mark's dad was gentle, I thought if he were my dad, he would never touch my mum because he didn't look as strong as my dad.
I can't remember why, but I remember dad having some sort of argument with Mark's dad one day and my dad was busy yelling. I thought he would pounce on Mark's dad anytime soon , like he usually did to mum, But he didn't.
Mark's dad didn't have much to say as he was a man of few words. Dad bombarded him with all manner of insults but he didn't say a word until Mark's mum came out and began to yell back at my dad. Dad was so quick to anger that he slapt her. The next thing I remember was dad on the ground as Mark's dad was on top of him giving him dirty blows and unclean slaps. Ah! I had never been so happy...
It didn't take long before our neighbors separated them. But not before dad had "chop enough blow"
Mum was not home, I wished mum was around to see someone revenge a little for her. As soon as they were separated, mum walked in. Not sure what was happening but she saw blood on her beloved husband's face . Then she asked him what the problem was, but instead of getting an answer from him, she got a hot slap. mum hurriedly went inside as she didn't want to to be humiliated before everyone. As she went inside, I could hear mum begin to ask her self if she did wrong by trying to find out what happened. As she spoke, she began to cry and say her God would judge my dad. Too bad for her, he heard that part, and he was not so pleased with it then he began to beat her. Let your God come and judge me, dad said, as be continued to beat mum. I could not bear seeing him beat mum anymore, so I went and held him. I held him as tightly as I could but he simply threw me
off, leaving me with a hurt back as he continued to practice on mum's body after he had failed to land a single blow on Mark's dad. When I think about it now, my mum was the scape goat on that day. She should have stayed a little while more before she returned. But How could she know?
My mum is the bravest and the most strongest woman in the world. A lot of times, she had thought about leaving. And honestly, I wish she had left and with me of course, but she didn't. She chose to stay.
When people tell fond stories about their fathers, I only have this and more to say about him...
You remember when I stated that if you are not ready to accept nonsense you should not get married because women are full of nonsense and men even more nonsensical? That statement can be said to be very true. But what's not true was when I said my mum and dad were not ready to get married. well, maybe my dad was not ready. He was more than a thousand bag of nonsense and could not take a Kobo of nonsense. My mum on the other hand, was not devoid of nonsense, however, she was very patient, very ready and willing to take any amount of nonsense, be they in a thousand bags.
I wish I had a good story to share about my dad but unfortunately, I have quite non.
The only story I can share about my dad is about how much he hated my mum and I, and how he had made me grow up with nothing but hate for him.
After the fight between Mark's dad and my dad, or perhaps more appropriately, the lesson Mark's dad thought my dad, Mark's dad was still furious. I could not understand why that was the case. A while ago, my dad almost got his finger into the man's eyes but he spoke no word. moments later, he was full of strength and furry. Mark's dad could not control himself anymore and he began to yell. Can you imagine this man, he had the guts to slap my wife. Did she in any way look like his wife? he questioned, rhetorically, before he continued. See, I can take ten, twenty or even fifty slaps from anyone. But I can not take a finger touch on my wife by any one, be you who, he added.
Hearing those words from Mark's dad, my love and admiration for him began to grow just as my envy and jealously for Mark grew.
Trust my mum, as Soon as she heard those words, she began to laugh mischievously. Hmmmmmmm! hehehehehehehe, hahahahaha, oya na! People who know what it means to have a wife, not people who get beaten by their fellow men outside but come back inside and turn their wives into punching bags, my mum concluded. Dad didn't utter a word. The next thing he would do was to get up and pounce on mum, but so far, he hasn't. What's wrong? what's changed? I continued to wonder. But mum wasn't done talking. apparently she was catching her breath. As she began to talk again, I quietly moved closer to her and begged her to stop talking. I was scared dad would soon pounce on her. Mum was probably used to the beating but I was never going to get used to see my dad beat her. Even as I begged mum to stop talking, she wouldn't. instead, I gave her more reasons to talk. Mummy please na, don't talk again so he won't beat you, I whispered to my mum so dad would not hear. Daddy, my mum referring to me. Don't mind him . Let him come and beat me, after all, it is all he knows how to do aside being shameless, wicked and a womaniser. Although I had whispered to my mum's ear to stop talking, her response was louder than she sounded before I whispered to her. Dad could hear her loud and clear but didn't move a muscle. I was still scared for mum, but she didn't seem scared at all. She would not stop lamenting. As soon as dad turned to our direction, I began to cry. Then he came straight at us, by that time, I cried even louder as he came closer. But dad just took his keys and left the house without saying a word nor laying a hand on mum.
Dad didn't return that night. by morning, mum's phone rang, I was not sure who had called but mum was in a hurry. She didn't even have a bath. She carried me, locked the door and hurriedly went outside and continued to say " Jesus take control, Jesus take control, Jesus take control" before I knew what was going on, we were at the hospital. Dad was involved in an accident and was battling to stay alive. When mum and I got there, he was in a very critical condition. After seeing him for few minutes, the doctor told us we had to leave the room. But just then, dad opened his eyes and asked the doctor to let us stay. He began to apologise to mum. in response, mum said he should apologise to God and me because all she needed was for her and her son to be loved and treated right be her husband. Dad promised to turn a new leaf and I could tell mum was happy. Things were about to change for the better. Maybe dad was going to start acting like Mark's dad. I really looked forward to that, but dad never returned home as he died few days later at the hospital.
Shakles
Kadiri, Kadiri, Kadiri. I heard mama call out. The sun was still hidden by the clouds and at such times, when mama called, I was sure she wanted me to go fetch water from the river. I ignored Mama's call, pretending I was still asleep. Kofan ruwa, the river from where we went to fetch water was was quite a long walk from our home in Kurna. It was very early, and exactly around the time mama would want me to go there. According to her, around this time, the water was still clean. For me, it was better to go to the river at sunrise at least. More so, because i could go with Yaya and Tale. Yaya and Tale were my best friends. We could go to Kofan Ruwa a hundred times together and would not realize it. We would spend time talking about which mango tree we would visit for the day, where we would go hunting and how we would try to impress our girls when we made a big catch. I had always had my eyes on Talatu, and everything I did, I did to impress her. Talatu was tall, slim, and was very curvy. she was a typical Kurna girl, beautiful in every aspect. I liked her, although she had never said so to me, I could tell she liked me too.
Kadiri, Kadiri, Kadiri, Mama continued to call, and suddenly, her voice began to fade as she called. Ah! At last she gave up, I thought. But as her voice faded away, I heard other voices screaming. There were random voices and I almost did not recognize any of them until I heard Talatu's. In the midst of a million voice, I could always recognize her voice when I heard it. Kadiri, Kadiri, she called as she ran into my hut. The white people, the white people, she panted, they came in a big boat and they are taking people away. I saw them take my papa, my mama and my brother. I also saw them take your friend, Tale but they did not see me where I hid,she added in fear.
Hurriedly, I stood up and went with Talatu outside my hut. The white men seemed to have been coming from every direction except one, so we took that direction and began to run as fast as we could. But as we ran, Talatu fell down and hurt her toe. This made running difficult for her. Talatu was a strong girl, she managed to continue. But she slowed down our pace. It did not take long until the white men caught up with us. As soon as they did, they put me and Talatu in Chains. Our hands were chained to our front, before being chained on the neck and making sure the chains were connected to the next person's neck. This was to make sure that it was impossible for any one to escape.
We were treated like animals. We did not treat animals the way they treated us. While chained , they flogged us as we walked far away from home. We were being taken to a sea shore, I supposed, they wanted to journey with us to the white man's land to work as slaves.
God forbid, I can never be slave to any man born of a woman. The people of Tudun wada are slaves to no one. We were known as great worriors. We can not be taken into slavery. I would rather die than be a slave to the white man, these words I heard. As I turned to see who could be so brave to speak out, I was not surprised at all. It was Haji. Haji was one of the strongest and well respected worriors in Tudun Wada. As he spoke in bravery, we all began to cheer and sing war songs. That was a great mistake, but we all learned it the hard way. The white men singled out Haji, and put a knife into his right eye. As he screamed in pains, they used the white man's charm on him. We had never seen such a charm before. It was so loud and could kill a man quickly. They all had the charm with them but we never knew those were powerful charms. The charms were long and had a rope tied to it with which they could hang the charm on their shoulders, they had short ones too, and they called the charms 'gun'. Seeing what had been done to the worrior, Haji, and the powers of the white man charm, we were scared. They threatened to do thessame to anyone who spoke another word.
As we got to shore, there were many more white men who had also come in their own boat. We were being bought by the white men who we met at the shore. For young and strong men, the buyers paid more . For young and pretty women, they also paid more.
One man had seen how beautiful Talatu was and was willing to pay twice her price to have her, but our captain would not sell her. I was glad he did not sell her as nobody bought me.
We got into the boat and set sail. Talatu was scared, I could easily tell. I sat next to her. I am scared Kadiri, she whispered. I am scared too Talatu but we would be fine, I assured her.
Hey! The Captain wishes to have you buy his side, one white man said as he dragged Talatu. I looked on helplessly without altering a word as he took Talatu. Moments later, she returned crying and bleeding from her private part. The white man had defiled her. But there was nothing we could do.
As we sailed, we heard a baby cry. It would not stop crying. This made the captain angry. As he came out to ask why the baby would not stop crying, the mama of the baby tried to explain to him that she had not had any food in days and as a result, the baby could not get milk from her breast. The captain went in and came back with a white man's food. He tried to make the baby eat, but the baby cried even more. In anger, he began to flog the baby to eat but the baby cried harder. You have to eat or I'll kill you, he yelled at the little baby, but it still would not stop crying until it slept off. Not long after the baby had slept, it woke up again and began to cry. The baby's leg was swollen from the beating it got from the white man. This time, the baby cried harder than it had cried. Again, the Captain came out and was shown the baby's swollen leg. He ordered that water be boild. As the water was boiled, he made a white woman in his company put the baby's swollen leg in the hot water. But the woman touched the water and found it too hot. She complained the water was too hot for the baby but the captain wouldn't listen. Instead, he put the baby's leg in the very hot water. The baby's skin went into the water and in days, the leg was infected. Shortly after the baby got infected, it died. The baby's mama began to cry. I would not have anyone disturb my ship, neither would I have a corpse in it. The Captain warned. He called the dead baby's mama to come with it. When she had come, he asked her to throw the dead baby into the sea. Poor woman. She would not listen, but he threatened to throw them both. Then she threw the baby into the sea as she looked the other way.
The woman continued to cry. No one could stop her, not even the captain. You want to disturb my ship, eh? he began to flog the woman. One man in the boat, I did not know him, he was not from Kurna. He got angry and spoke out to the captain but no one understood his language, he just continued to yell at the captain angrily. Shut the fuck up, the captain said to the man as he flogged him with a chain. But the man would continue to speak out in anger. You wanna die? the captain asked, I'll kill you ape, he added in fury as he continued to flog the man with the chain in his hand. This time, the man must have had enough, then he muttered 'fight me'. Oh! you wanna fucking fight me? alright then. Oi! calling out one of his crews. Unchain this ape, he thinks he's got balls. As the man was unchained, the captain ordered that some weapons be brought to the man to choose from. When the weapons were brought the man chose a machete, the biggest of them actually. I suppose his intentions were to cut the captain into pieces. As he attacked in anger, the white man, without breaking a sweat used his charm on the man. You don't bring a knife to a gun fight, you ape, The Captain boasted as he dusted his cha..., I mean gun. throw him off my ship, he ordered. Seeing this, we were very terrified. Even the woman who would not stop crying was not reminded to stop crying anymore, she immediately stopped crying on her own....... to be continued
Two vultures
Our dreams as humans is to excel in our fields of endeavor. In every thing we do, we strive to come out as the best. We want to win, we want to be recognized, we want to stand tall amongst our pears, which by the way, is a very good thing actually. However, in our quest to win and to be recognized, a lot of people simply forget how to be humans.
Having spent Four years in one of the best universities in the world and graduating as the best student in photography or what ever they call it, Kelly went into the world with a quest of being the best in the profession. Kelly loved his profession with passion. Everywhere he went, he went with his camera. He even called his camera Nicole. Although Kelly had a girl friend, Nicole was his best friend. He could be seen smiling and heard talking to his camera. When ever he took a picture and it came out nice and beautiful, he kisses 'her' and showers 'her'with praises , and when the picture did not come out nice and beautiful, he had nothing but words of encouragement for his camera as though it could actually hear him. Although Kelly was known by scores of people, he wanted to be known all over the world. For him, the only way to attain the fame he sought was to win an award in photography that is known world wide.
Else where in Northeast of Africa, Sudan to be precise. The country where in great famine, such as had never been experienced by any country in recent years. The people where dying of hunger and starvation accompanied with the fact that the country was in a state of war.
Kelly, travelled all the way to Africa with his camera. Perhaps, not to go seek international recognition, or maybe, for that reason. Anyways, he left for Africa. Upon his arrival, there were loads of pictures to be taken, Kelly had found. By the time Kelly had spent a month in Africa, he had taken so much pictures and sent back home to his country. But amongst the numerous pictures he took, one got him a nomination.
Amongst the pictures Kelly had taken, the one that had earned him a nomination for the award was the one with a baby who had grown very thin from hunger, whose parents had probably died from the war or had died of hunger, lying on the ground and probably waiting for death to come take him away. But as the baby waited , so also did a vulture. The vulture waited patiently for the baby to die so it could feed on the body.
Few weeks after Kelly got nominated, he had travelled back home to attend the award night .
That particular picture was so touching and Kelly was applauded greatly for it. And as expected, he was announced as the winner of the award.
As Kelly went up the stage to receive his award, he was full of smiles and happiness as he had aways wanted to win the award.
In his appreciation speech, Kelly talked about how he had always dreamt of winning the award. Just as he was done talking, a woman in the audience had her hand up. She would love to ask a question or two to the new winner.
Congratulations Kelly, on your award. It was quite a piece, the woman said . But I would love to ask a question. As she was permitted to ask, she continued. What happened to the baby. Did he survive or did he die and the vulture fed on him?
Hearing this question, Kelly was speechless as he didn't wait to find out what happened to the baby. He had left the place as soon as he took his award winning shots.
I do not know, I did not wait to find out, he muttered.
Well then, the woman said. From the picture, one could clearly see that the baby would not last more than an hour before he dies and from the picture also, there was no one around at the time except you of course.
I say to you tonight Kelly, if the baby died and the vulture fed on him, you should know that on that day, there were two vultures. The second vulture held the camera and took the shots.
Hearing this, Kelly broke down. One year later, Kelly Committed suicide.
This story may not be interesting, but I hope it passes a message.
P.S : This is actually a true life story.
I had written this story because I came across the photo below with the caption " There were two vultures and one held the camera"
Diary of a sad ghost
I have always wondered what would become of me when i die. I have seen friends lose their friends, i have seen parents lose their children, i have seen children lose their parents, i have seen husbands lose their wives, and wives, their husbands, and so on. I have heard that when we die, we feel nothing and know not what would be happening when we die. Only the people we had left behind would hurt and cry their eyes out, and sometimes, because of losing a loved one, a person could die of shock. But then again, i have also heard of situations where a person dies and there is a wide spread of jubilation, especially by people who ordinarily should hurt and cry.
I had returned home early from work the other evening. I had severe head ache and so i assumed i had malaria fever. I went home early to get treatment, but some hours after i had taken some malaria drugs, i knew i should feel better. However, instead of better, i felt worse. It was unlike me, i did not often have malaria and when i did, a couple of dozes of the plenty malaria drugs they have today would have done the magic. But this time around, it did not. My body began to burn, so much that it could boil noodles or maybe not, but i was burning up. Mum tried to cool me off with a soaked hand towel but i burned even more. I knew i would be alright by day break, all i needed was so catch a sleep but i could not. Then at last, i slept off. I had never slept so peacefully before. The malaria drugs must have worked, perhaps, the soaked towel with which mum had cleaned my body worked the wonder. Which ever of them it was, i was thankful it worked.
Still in the most peaceful sleep i had ever had, i heard screams, shouts and crys. What was happening? I could not tell, and honestly, i did not want to wake up for i was enjoying my sleep. All the shouts, screams and crys continued but they became louder and i began to hear familiar voices amongst them. First, i heard my mum's, it was the loudest, then i heard my dad's, it was not so loud but i still could hear him. My Dad would never cry, more so, scream. I knew i had to go find out why mum was crying so loud, and why dad should even cry at all. I was scared, i had hoped nothing bad had happened to either of them, but i was sure they were not fighting. Dad would never lay a finger on mum, he would never think about it. Mum would never do anything to make dad want to lay a finger on her. I had never seen a couple like them my whole life, they were indeed, "best of friends" if you like. Was anyone fighting them? But of course not. Dad was loved by everyone. One time, a stranger came to our neighbourhood and tried to fight him because dad told him to return some corn he had taken from our farm without letting him know. Dad is a good man, he would have let the stranger go with the corn, but he told dad to mind his business without knowing it was from our farm he had taken those corns and so dad asked him to return them. In complete refusal to return the corns, the stranger attacked dad but my dad did not have to lift a hand, for our neigbours were always ready to fight for my poor old dad.
What could have been the reason mum and dad were crying? I wondered. Then i got up and went out to find out. As i went out to find out, i saw people trying to console them, mum was dirty from rolling on the ground. Dad sat on the ground as though his world had come to an end. Oh my son! Oh Tofa! God why? I heard my dad continue to say in pains as he cried. It did not make any sense to me, did mum and dad have another son? I asked myself. Why would they hide this from me? I wondered. But i had heard dad mention my name, Tofa.
The more i tried to make sense of the rather very strange happening, the more confused i became. I knew i needed some explanation from either of my parents. Mama, mama, i called out, as i walked straight to my mum. She would not look my way, she was probably too busy crying and rolling on the ground but i would have non of that. Mama, mama, i continued to call. Just then, it occured to me she could not hear me, nobody could. They could not notice me. I became even more confused and scared. Papa, papa, i called as i turned towards my dad, but he could not hear nor see me. In the pool of my confusion, i tried to touch my dad but i could not. Oh God, let this be a bad dream, i prayed in fear. Then i ran back into my room and found me lying lifelessly on my bed. Oh God, please, i can not die, at least, not now, i begged. When it dawned on me that i was dead and nothing could be done about it, i began to cry but that also was a useless thing to do.
I sat and watched every one cry for my death. Soon, family memebers and friends heard about my untimely death, and began to troop in. Amongst friends who had come in were Fatima, my very beautiful girl friend, and Ilyasu, my loving best friend as well as other family friends who had heard the very sad news. They all spent the whole day with my parents, and when night came, everybody except some family memebers, returned to their homes. Dad had said it was pointless to leave me in the motuary. Who would he leave it there for? He had asked. I was to be burried the next day. I could not believe that was happening to me. Mum and dad did not sleep that night. I sat next to them talking and wishing that somehow, they would get to hear me, but that unfortunately, did not happen. I went out that night, it was about 2:13 AM, then i heard voices, i went to go see the people talking. "hey, i heard a voice call, it could not be me he was referring to, nobody could hear nor see me, i thought. Hey, the voice called again. As i turned to see, it was a young man, about my age. Me? I asked. Yes, you, he answered. I was surprised. Can you see me? I asked, curiously. Yes na, i blind? He answered. I heard you talking with someone, where is the person? I asked again. He went that way, he answered, pointing at a direction. What a relief that was to me, someone could see and hear me. But why are you out here by this time of the night? I asked. Nobody could see nor hear me, he said. Wait, are you dead? I asked. Yes o, he simply ansered. But what happened to you, i further questioned. Guy no dey ask me all these question abeg, you be God? He replied, angrily, before turning away. I roamed about our neigbourhood the whole night, and as i did, i met people who had just dies like me. Soon it was day break again.
The day on which i would be burried had come. Again, family and friends were there to say their final bye bye. My pretty girl friend, Fatima, had got her eyes swollen from crying. My best friend Ilyasu could still hardly believe i was no more with them. There were lots of people who had one or two nice things to say about me. It did not take long and i was lowered into the grave. As that was being done, people began to cry. Men, women, boys and girls. I felt very important and loved. Thank you, i had whispered to them, but of course, they would not hear me.
Shortly everyone went away. Most of my friends had found their way to a hotel where they wanted to probably sit together and discuss a thing or two about how to pay a condolence visit to my parents, so i thought. I thought i needed to hear their discussion so i went with them. On their way to the venue, everyone talked about one or two memorable event we had. My girlfriend Fatima would not contribute to the discussion as they walked. My best friend, Ilya continued to hold hands with her as they went. When they got to the venue, they drank beer and ate cow tail. Some drank malt and ate pepper soup. They told jokes and laughed at their jokes. My girl friend seemed to be enoying herself all of a sudden. They took selfies and took group pictures. I began to feel as though there were happy i had died but honestly, it looked that way . They Once in a while, someone would scream, Na wa o! So Tofa don die like so? And then another person would achoe, this life self, may his soul rest in peace" as they continued to eat, drink and make merry. I waited for them to discuss about a condolence visit but i did not hear that discussion. Soon after, they went their separate ways. My best friend Ilya and my girlfriend Fatima, went on the same way. As they went it seemed as though their closeness had increased. I was just burried and they were hugging and cuddling like that? I wondered. But they continued to go and instead of a separate way, they went to Ilaya's house. How could this be happening, it has not been two days since i died, and a day since i was buried.
The sudden closeness between my best friend and my girl friend did not make too much sense to me. The only sense it made was that he was trying to be with her in her trying time. Fatima loved me very much, maybe more than i had ever loved her too. She was indeed very beautiful. She was fair and tall, she had the most beautiful eyes i had ever seen. The tenderness of her voice was a sweet melody. Her smiles gave peace and her laughter healed pains. Her curves were head turning, she was simply a work of art. My friends thought i was lucky to have her, some of them thought i did not deserve her. She was a gift, one i probably did not really deserve. Now i am dead, it was going to be very difficult for her to cope without me. I hoped she would not do some thing as stupid as try to take her own life because she really did love me.
But why is my best friend taking her to his house? There must be a very genuine reason for that, i thought before leaving them. As i left them, i went home, mum was still crying and tears would not stop rolling down dad's cheek. Some family members were there with them. I wished mum and dad could hear me so i would tell them i was fine. Seeing them in such sorrowful mood continued to break my heart and there was nothing i could do for them. Then, the thought of Fatima and Ilya crossed my mind again, i went straight to Ilya's house to clear my every doubt. When i got there, i met the mum in their palour. Good morning Ma, i said. Funny, isn't it? I had forgotten i was dead but she would not hear me. I went towars Ilya's room, the door was locked, but i went straight in, one of the benefits of being a ghost, i did not have to knock. As i went in, the first voice i heard was my girlfriend's. She would not stop saying " i love you Ilya" as my best friend banged her. I could not believe my eyes and my ears, but they were right. I had seen in the movies were ghosts flogged people and sometimes slapped them. I wanted so much to slap the living day light out of them both, but i could not. I stood and watched my best friend bang my girl friend while she continued to scream out his name with pleasure. Did i not die only two days ago, when did they begin to love themselves that much? It was one of the worst days of my death. I would never forgive them both.
From there, i went to the place i had worked. I was a hardworking person, every one loved me at work, especially my boss. When i got to my work place, it did not seem as though i was ever there. They went about their work laughing and smiling, nobody talked about me, my work desk had been cleared and had a new person on it. They were gisting and laughing with the new guy as if he had been there all the time with them and not me. At a place where i thought i was loved, i was already forgotten. In all of their conversation, my name was not mentioned once. I was sad, why have i been forgotten so soon? Was i a bad person, or were they just pretending to have loved me? I continued to ask myself.
Then i went back home from there. By that time only mum and dad were home. Our family members had returned to where ever they had come from. Mum was still crying, dad was trying to make her stop and eat something. They both had not had any food since i died. The most difficult part of my death was to see mum and dad suffer the pains of child loss. Oh God, it should have been me, mum cried. I understood their pain. I was the only child, but even if i was not, they would have felt the pain but maybe not so much so, but i was the only child. I began to wish i had other siblings. But wishes, infortunately, were not horses. Dad scolded me for every little thing, he made me work tirelessly in the farm, i had always thought he hated me.
Dad continued to console mum, but all of a sudden he too began to cry out loud. God why? He questioned, as he cried. That broke my heart a great deal.
It was night soon and i hoped mum and dad would get some sleep, and thankfully, they did. But why would they not? They had cried for two days straight and had not eaten any food. They were tired and exhausted, and so they must sleep even if they did not want to. As they slept, i went roaming the streets again. I did not understand the whole thing. I had thought that when we die, we would find eternal solace, but why am i still restless and having to see all of these happenings? I thought, as i continued to roam about,,,,,,,,,,,,
She died
.....he would beat her everyday, and she would never cry out for help. She didn't want people to know he was beating her. After every beating, she would stay indoors for days until her swollen face and bruised body healed.
He would seldomly return home but every time he did, she was his punching bag. What confused me, was when ever he didn't return home, she'd pray for his safety where ever he was.
As a child, I thought he was always at work, but no, he was somewhere resting his head on the breasts of another woman.
Although I never wanted him to come back home, but mom was always worried and was restless when he didn't return.
He never used to answer his phone when Mom called.
One night, mom had called again and a strange woman answered the phone and warned her not to call the number again before she hung up.
Mom wouldn't stop calling until he answered the phone and started to yell at her. She asked him who it was that had answered the phone the first time but he told her it wasn't her concern.
Never for once did he leave the house and left money for food. Mom didn't have any business that fetched her money and I remember how she would always beg him to set up a business for her no matter how little it was. Each time, he would tell her that her responsibility was to look after me. Yet he wouldn't provide any of our needs.
Mom was able to get some money from her siblings to start up a petty business. He wasn't aware, because she didn't tell him. When he found out, he came to the market, destroyed the business and beat her up in the market place and went home with me.
When Dad returned home a few days after the strange woman answered his phone. Mom was bent on knowing who the woman was but he wouldn't say anything.
She wouldn't leave him alone until he began to beat her again.
He had hit her on her chest and she fell down and became unconscious. After a few minutes, she wouldn't get up. He tried to revive her but she wouldn't get up. I was scared, and so was he.
He began to call for help, but no one would attend to him. Even though mom never cried for help when he beat her, our neighbors knew what was happening.
They told him to eat her corpse since he had finally killed her. I couldn't believe mom had died. "Please God, don't let her die" I whispered. By this time, Dad's eyes were raining tears and I wondered why. He had always wanted to kill her, it made no sense to me that he was crying.
He ran outside to go get a taxi, a few minutes later, he came back in and found mom in a sitting position.
"Are you okay?" he asked. " You mean if I'm still alive?" mom replied. "Well, God will not let me die by your hands" she added, before entering the bathroom to take a shower.
I had imagined that the incident would have thought him a lesson, but no, it didn't. For a couple of days, he didn't lay hands on her but soon, he went back to using her as his punching bag.
One time, he beat her and attempted to throw her into a well outside of the house. It took the intervention of our neighbors to stop him.
Everyone wondered why she wouldn't leave him before he killed her. I wondered thesame thing too. I hoped that she would one day take me and go Faraway from him. But she wouldn't, she didn't. She was blinded by religion.
One morning, as I woke up from sleep, she was still sleeping. She must have still been in pains from the beatings the previous night. I knew for sure she would wake up, she always did. But that morning, she didn't wake up, she never woke up, she died.
Tall, dark, handsome and rich
"Tall, dark, handsome, and rich" was exactly how she described her ideal man, anything less was almost unacceptable. I thicked all the boxes except of course, the last one which, by the way, was the most important of them all for her.
Although I fitted in the first three boxes, but I lacked the last and the most important of them all. It did not matter to her that I had other beautiful qualities such as the fact that I was loving, caring, and kind hearted. According to her, even if a man lacked one of the mentioned qualities, it should never be the last one.
I called her almost everyday confessing my feelings to her, and with the promise to love and care for her. I wrote beautiful poems to her every morning, and made sure another beautiful poem was the last message she got before she slept. It seemed to have started working for me when for the first time, she replied to one of the poems I had sent her.
"Thank you so much dear, I love the poem, good morning"
I couldn't believe my eyes, she had just replied my message. I wasn't sure about what to do next. I wondered if I should call her, or text her in reply to her reply to me. While I was lost in "wonder land", my phone rang, and guess who called me, Jenny. This was too good to be true. She had just replied my message and she was calling me? "This must be a dream" I thought.
As soon as I answered, "hello Carthy" she said, with the sweetest tone I had ever heard. I grinned from one ear to the other at the sound of her voice. "Hello Jenny" i responded, trying as hard as possible not to show my excitement, but my voice could not hide my excitement, I am sure she heard the excitement in my voice.
"Hey Carthy, my birthday is in three days time, I am just telling you so you would get my gift ready and so that you would know that you would take me out too"
"Ok, Jenny, no problems at all" I responded before she hung up. At the time, I only had my school fees, part of which I had spent, and I was struggling with how to get it completed so I could pay before the deadline for payment. Failure to pay your school fees in AE FUNAI on or before deadline meant an extra ten thousand naira for late payment, but deadline was a month or two away.
Somehow, I was able to convince myself I could squeeze out another ten thousand naira from the remaining balance I had and that I could raise the money before deadline. For me, ten thousand was by no means a small amount of money, hence, I imagined that with that amount, I would take Jenny out to a nice place, have a good time, and then buy her a gift with the left over.
At the time, we didn't have any where better than "Munchy Crunchy" Munchy Crunchy was a restaurant at the back gate in AE FUNAI. I was sure that as long as we were within the school premises, there was absolutely no way we could spend as much as five thousand naira on food. At this point, I was starting to think that ten thousand was too much. At most, we would spend two thousand naira on food, then I'd give her four thousand naira to buy a gift for herself and then, I'd still have an extra four thousand naira. It was just the perfect plan.
Jenny began to call me every day, and each time she called, we spoke for quite a long time. Ah! finally, this girl is inlove with me. She laughed at every joke I told, and replied every single message I sent to her. Love had found me, and it was indeed a beautiful thing.
While we were talking the night before her birthday, she asked me where I would take her . I responded by saying it was a surprise. But of course, it was truly a surprise. I was about to take her to Munchy Crunchy, what better surprise could there be? Aside Munchy Crunchy, we had a place where they sold roasted yam and plantain and beans, and we had other local restaurants. There was no way she would like to go to any of those places, Munchy Crunchy was the real deal.
I made sure I was the first to call and text her on her birthday, sweet text messages full of rhymes and romantic lines as you would imagine and she loved it.
Few minutes after I woke up in the morning, she called me and asked where we were going. With a face full of smile and a heart with pride, I said " Munchy Crunchy"
"WHAAAT?" she yelled. "MUNCHY CRUNCHY, THE ONE AT THE BACK GATE?" she continued to yell. At this point, I knew that didn't go down well with her, but why? I wondered.
"Yes" I calmly responded. "You're not serious, is that the surprise?" she angrily questioned. Before I said another word, she continued to rant " see, I told you, I don't do broke guys but you kept disturbing me, now you want to go and embarrass me on my birthday. What happened to Vegas, City chef, Crunches, Natives, and all the other nice places in town, why must you choose to celebrate my birthday in Ikwo"
Well, Ikwo is where AE FUNAI is situated, and this is for people who do not know.
I tried to calmly explain to her that I thought it was better to stay in school, which was why I chose the best place in school, but she wouldn't have any of that explanation. She said I would have to take her to the state capital which honestly, was not far from Ikwo, but was very much far from my pocket.
I had just made up my mind to go to the capital with her it would only cost me the four thousand naira I thought I would save from the initial ten thousand naira I had budgeted.
Then she told me we would be going with four of her friends.
As soon as she said that, my phone went off and didn't come back on until three days time.
Well, don't ask me what happened when my phone came back on because nothing happened, absolutely nothing.
I was not her father and it was not my responsibility to celebrate her birthday for her.
There was no way ten n naira would have been enough for the six of us, and I was not ready to tamper with my school fees anymore. This user ran for his dear life.
drowned
Do you have this one friend who motivates and always gives you a good reason why you must do something? For me, Ofor was that friend, my best friend. We did everything together, well, almost everything. From going to church, playing football, clubbing, writing poems, going to the gym and of course, "chyking girls" But this is not the main gist.
This, right here, is the gist. When I went to live with Ofor in his family house, it became easier for us to do the things we loved to do together. Ofor loved to swim and he knew very well how. I, on the other hand, didn't know how to swim.
So, usually, after our hard training sessions during the week, we went to party in the club on Fridays. And on Saturdays, I go watch him and other people swim. How I loved to see them swim and have mad fun, most times it made me wish that like them, I knew how to swim.
So, on that faithful Monday while we were practicing some football drills and skills, Ofor said it was time for me to start swimming and talked about how much it would help me relax and prepare for the hard training sessions that accompanied every new week. Convincing me wasn't difficult a thing for him to do.
Soon it was Saturday, and off to the pool we went. On That day, like every other day, there were fine girls and boys who had come to swim, (Who cares about the boys?) but this time, we had never seen beautiful girls come to swim as much as they did that day. Of course, as a beginner, I knew where to start, I knew very well also that I should never leave the shallowest part no matter the temptation.
A lot of fun went on in the pool but I wasn't part of it because it wasn't happening in the shallowest part of the pool of course. They swam from one end to another in back strokes and all kind of free styles.
They were having crazy fun. Anyone could tell I wasn't having any fun but that was okay, Ofor was having all the fun on our behalf. After a while, Ofor came close and said "Carthy, you know say the deepest part of this pool na 7 ft and you be 6.2, no fear, you no fit drown, I dey here" .
While he was at it, this very beautiful girl, tall, slim and fair in complexion, looking like a beautiful work of art, my ears struggled to listen to her because my eyes could not stop admiring the magnificence of the beauty with which she was blessed, as she interrupted and said "hey, I also do not know how to swim, let's learn together."
Well, long story short, I shouldn't have listened to ofor nor more especially, the girl. But I did, and as a result, I drank a few litres of water from the pool. I obviously didn't listen to them because I wanted to learn how to swim, I just wanted to have fun and with the gorgeous lady.
I was drowning and nobody noticed until someone eventually did. The fine girl that made me go into the deeper part of the pool left me and was having fun with some other fine looking guy who had dreads and six packs and who knew how to swim.
My best friend was busy teaching a few other girls how to back stroke.
Believe me, it's not an experience I would love to have, ever again.
Although I almost drowned, the good news is, I didn't.
Since then, I've had swimming lessons and I have hit the gym, plus, I have started to grow dreads, I now have six packs and, I am now fine.
What ever you do, do not do what you can not do.
Nightmare on a Saturday morning
Most of my friends and I had just gotten admitted into the university. Those of us who got into the university prayed that the rest of our friends who were not lucky enough, got admitted the following year.
Soon after the first semester, we had returned home and converged at our usual place. It was Chigozie, one of our friend's house. Chigozie had a Play Station 2 and there was a twenty four hours power supply at his place. Hence, it was the perfect place to gather. we had gathered that Friday night, and everyone bragged about how better he had become in the game of football since we went to school. Those who were home also bragged about how much they had improved since we went away.
It was usually fun gathering at Chigozie's place since his family made it a home for everyone. A wonderful family, I must say.
The argument about who had improved more was a lot more heated between Chima and Diamond, two of our friends, the most energetic ones amongst us and they were as close as 5 and 6. While Diamond argued he had become a better player since going to the university, Chima insisted he had learned a few new skills since we left.
Sadly, he wasn't too strong and wouldn't be able to play the next Morning which was a Saturday. But he had agreed to come see us play so he'd say how much we had improved.
The following morning, my cousin, Ogochukwu and I were the first people to be at the field, as we waited for the rest of the guys to show up. The fist person who showed up on his bike was Chima, carrying his soccer boot in the basket at the front of his bike.
When I asked why he had changed his mind, he said Diamond had bragged too much and needed to be taught a lesson.
Before long, the game began and we had played over an hour. We could hear Chima complain about our team being out played because we were not putting in a good enough performance. Diamond and his team had us out played and that wasn't going well with Chima at all, he went ahead to urge us to put in more effort.
shortly after that, we heard a loud sound, when we turned to see, Chima had hit the ground. Since nobody was close to him when he fell, we didn't think it to be something serious. After a minute or two, he stayed down. We all went near to find out what had happened, and it turned out to be more serious than we had thought. He was dying, everyone was confused and didn't know what to do. One of the police men who watched us play, ran into the DPO's quarter, got his car and drove Chima to the hospital.
At the hospital, the doctor said Chima had passed away over an hour ago and that he had died of cardiac arrest.
It was unbelievable, everyone was left in shock. It seemed like a bad dream that we were soon going to wake up from. But it wasn't, for it was a sad reality.
Diamond helped return his bike to the house, but didn't tell the family what had happened. Chima was the first son of his family and meant the world to his parents.
On our way to the hospital, we met with Chima's father, by this time, the news had not left the hospital. Everyone told the father Chima hurt his foot but somehow, he just didn't believe it. When he met with my cousin and I on our way, he said "Iyke, if Chima is dead, just tell me how it happened. for I am sure you would not be there to let anyone hurt him" my cousin rebuked him, asking him not to talk like that.
Just as we got close to the hospital, the first people who got there came out with tears running down their cheeks. 'Chima is dead' they said.
Ogochukwu and I went in regardless, hopping that somehow, just somehow, the news wasn't true. But it was true and sadly so.
My cousin, Ogochukwu, my uncle, Sunny and I were in the car with Chima in a sitting position between my cousin and me.
I had never seen my cousin pray, but on that day, pray did he. We spoke to him as though he could hear us, as we drove to his village.
Meanwhile, his father had been told to find his way to their village because Chima has had a dislocation on his foot and is being taken there for treatment.
Chima was to be buried on that day. After the grave had been dug, and was to be lowered into it, Diamond jumped in first and refused to come out, it took his mum's pleas and tears to bring him out. He still didn't believe Chima had died, nobody did. Everyone continued to cry their eyes out. Just when he was about to be buried, I hoped even more that it was a nightmare but it wasn't, and it was the last time we saw our friend Chima.
I met a ghost
.....while mum and I looked after my Dad in the hospital, I'd usually go to buy junk food from the woman outside.
The woman had a gorgeous daughter who went over to stay with her most of the time because school wasn't in session.
Truth be told, some times, I went there not because I wanted to get anything but just so I'd feed my eyes with the beauty with which God had decorated the young lady.
She and I began to talk and soon, she began to like me. I mean, what's there not to like about me afterall. Likeness grew into love and love into deeper love, if you know what I mean.
Everytime I wasn't in the hospital with mum looking after my Dad, you were sure where to find me. And sometimes, she'd come keep me company when her mum was around and my mum wasn't.
One of the nurses who attended to my dad called us love birds. She said we reminded her of her younger self. Jenny and I looked sweet together. It was almost as though we were created for each other.
When nurse rose came around, she never forgot to ask about my sweetheart, Jenny. We all became fond of Nurse Rose as did she, us.
One of those days, a certain mortuary attendant had gone to buy bread and Coke from Jenny's mum, and paid part of the money and promised to pay up when she returned the bottle.
Jenny's mum was a nice woman and everyone in the hospital knew her and how nice she was. Hours passed and the mortuary attendant had not returned the bottle nor the remaining money as she had promised.
My Jenny's mum decided to go and collect them by herself. But, on reaching there, nobody fit the description she gave amongst the mortuary attendants both those on duty and those who were not.
One of the mortuary attendants went into the mortuary and saw the empty bottle of Coke and the nylon of the bread beside one of the dead bodie. The mortuary attendants were not surprised as it seemed like a norm in the mortuary. One of the attendants could be heard yelling at the dead body " you this woman, why you no dey hear word?"
As Jenny's mum took a peep to see, it was indeed the woman who had come to buy bread and Coke from her. She's been in the mortuary for quite some time. The head of the mortuary attendants asked how much the balance was so they could pay up, but Jenny's mum was trembling in fear as did passerbys who heard the story.
Back in the ward where we stayed, we waited for nurse Rose to come and attend to us but she didn't show up.
Most times, a different nurse came to attend to us but each time, nurse Rose had already attended to us.
That day, nurse Rose didn't make it on time, so we asked the nurse who had come earlier about nurse Rose, but the nurse said there was no Nurse by that name anymore, that the only Nurse Rose in the hospital had died months ago and was in the mortuary.
It didn't make any sense, she was just there in the morning. She was always there. While we were still trying to make sense of what we just heard, we began to hear noises outside. Jenny came in to explain to us what had just happened to her mum, then we told her what the nurse had just told us.
We transferred dad to a different hospital, Jenny and her mum never returned to sell bread and Coke in the hospital.
Meanwhile, Jenny and I are still sweet hearts.
Hello everyone, my name is Okadi, I am new here and I'm so happy to be here. I am going to be sharing with you mind blowing stories on a daily basis. Please do well, to read and bless your eyes with the beauty of my mind.
The stranger who should have since died
. ...he used to beat her everyday, each day, he found a new reason to beat her. He enjoyed it, he simply loved it.
She was helpless, and I felt useless. I was of no use to her but I was only seven years old and could do nothing to help her other than to hide in a corner and cry while he beat the living hell out of her every single day as long as he was around.
I hated him, I wished he was not my father. Everytime he went away, I prayed he never returned but he kept returning home. For me, he djnwasvs, s ,, worst than a devil and I wondered why God would not kill him.
One night, he returned home drunk as always, I was never sure exactly why, but he started to beat her again. This time, I couldn't hold back, I couldn't just hide and cry while he beat her. And even though I was still crying, I tried to hold him so he doesn't beat her anymore but he threw me away.
I was hurt, and had bruises all over my body. he continued to beat her while I just watched and cried until I fell asleep.
The next morning, I almost couldn't recognize my mother, for indeed, hands were truly laid on her body, most especially her face. Mum couldn't talk for days and she was in pains.
I walked over to her and promised her that when I grow up, I would beat my wife as pay back to all the beatings she received from dad.
On hearing me say that, she was heart broken. She drew me close to her, held me tight and began to shed tears but never spoke a word. She couldn't say anything even if she wanted to.
Few days later, I remember, she told me that the only way I could truly revenge for her when I grow up and have a wife, was to treat my wife and kids exactly how I wanted my father to treat us.
Those words stuck. Everyday, I imagined having a father who loved and treated mum and I well.
shortly after I turned ten years of age, I went to live with my aunt in a different city. Even though he didn't approve of it, mum took me away regardless. He had stopped paying my school fees, and so, I couldn't go to school anymore.
My Aunt had asked that I was taken to her so I could start going to school again.
Before I turned twelve years of age, mum had called that he took ill and that it was serious. He wanted me to come back home so he could see me. But why would I want to go see a devil? I thought.
Everyone begged that I went to see him, but I refused. A few days later, mum called that he had passed away.
But I felt nothing, my heart would not let me shed a tear for a total stranger.
I was glad that he didn't succeed in killing my mother for me. He should have died a long time ago.
@Okadi14