Laughable Error

LAUGHABLE ERROR

      It was exactly 6.05am on Saturday 29^th August 2009. To Chisom, the previous night could be best described as lovely and splendid owing to the fantastic dream he just had, though the 17-year-old teen had woken to face the reality of the day.

      The ‘reality of the day’, which seemed not unlike paradox, was that Chisom who was reckoned to be an exemplary and brilliant chap by anyone who knew him, just managed to secure two credits among the nine O’Level subjects he sat for in his just concluded Senior School Certificate Examination (S.S.C.E) that precisely took place between March and May of that very year (2009). Funnily enough, being a science student, the subjects he barely made credit in were Igbo Language and Economics. The most worrisome was that, as the best student in Mathematics among his peers, he got F9 in the subject.

      Since seventy-two hours back he saw the results, he hadn’t taken anything tangible as regards meals, neither had his parents who felt the pains more than he did. Prior to the said exams, as the first child of the family, his well-to-do parents couldn’t wait to see him secure admission in the tertiary institution of his choice, University of Ibadan (UI) precisely, towards studying Medicine and Surgery which was his dream discipline. But at that moment, it appeared his dream had been shattered unannounced.

      As he lay in the bed in that early morning of Saturday, rotating from one edge to another, all he could think about was the very day being Tuesday he checked the results online; the day in question was undoubtedly the worst moment in his life. As soon as he saw the results at the cybercafé he patronized on that fateful day, he asked the computer operator that attended to him to revisit the site and check the results again, stating that there was a mix-up somewhere; no doubt, no one who truly knew Chisom that wouldn’t equally insinuate there was a ‘mix-up’. Having confirmed the results online for the umpteenth time as instructed by him, he was therein seemingly convinced that those trashes were actually his. After settling his bills, he quietly stood up and began to count his steps back home like a walking cadaver.

     When he got home in the evening of that horrific Tuesday, rather than going to his parents who were seated in the sitting room to intimate them on the outcome of the outing as expected, he chose to do otherwise since to him he had virtually nothing to present; he went straight to his personal room snubbing their presence, looked soared, and irritating. Mr. and Mrs. Okonkwo couldn’t withstand the shock that emanated from the abrupt and unusual behaviour; having sensed danger, the latter followed him (Chisom) to the bedroom.

     As she got there, the results’ sheet was lying pitiably on the tiled floor alongside the bearer, thus she ignored the latter and quickly grabbed the former to see things for herself.

     “What..?” Mrs. Okonkwo shouted, standing as she glanced at the results. “Is this your result?” She asked emphatically, strongly looking at Chisom who was on the floor.

     Chisom was rather speechless.

     Mr. Okonkwo who entered the room on hearing his wife’s exclamation, quickly took the results’ sheet from her. “What is this?” He equally exclaimed, looking at his wife who stood very close to him.

     “Ask your son.” She instructed, frowning.

       Mr. Okonkwo looked at his son who was still lying on the floor. “Chisom.” He called.

       The poor chap couldn’t respond.

      “Is this your result?” He inquired despite Chisom’s silence over his call.

      Interestingly, Chisom nodded indicating that those results really belonged to him.

     “No, this cannot be your result.” the couple chorused.

      Chisom couldn’t utter any word, kept facing the ceiling as he lied like a forgotten goat.

      The scepticism lingered for several hours until the reality dawned on them. Since then till this Saturday August 29, 2009, the entire family was yet to recover from the colossal shock.

     As Master Chisom Okonkwo lay in his bed in that early morning, looking like one who had been betrayed as well as robbed, he was deeply consoled by the ‘fantastic dream’ he had the previous night. In that dream, he found himself rejoicing alongside his family members having successfully secured admission to study the course of his choice in his dream-university, Medicine and UI respectively.

     “Could it be real?” He thought as he knelt down to pray over it.

      After the morning devotion at about 6.56am, he didn’t hesitate to share the lovely terrific moment with his parents. The latter never doubted the dream because, ab initio, they had been of the indisputable view that there was really something wrong somewhere that would eventually be rectified in due cause. But how the rectification would be actualized was what they didn’t know or couldn’t explain.

      Owing to the dream, the following Monday being 31^st August 2009, they (the parents) were motivated to visit Chisom’s school toward discussing the issue with the school’s principal – Mr. T.O. Ayodele.

     “No, we must apply to the exam board for onward review of the results.” Mr. Ayodele assured. “I know Chisom too well; this cannot be his result.” He added.

      The following day being Tuesday September 1, on behalf of Chisom’s parents, the school management wrote the Exam Board requesting candid review of the chap’s examination scripts. The formal application was honourably received, thus the board in question replied the school in a jiffy assuring them that it would in earnest look into the matter towards ascertaining the actual error, if any, as well as making amends where necessary.

      Three weeks on, still in September same year, as God would have it, it was discovered that Chisom’s results were mistakenly allocated to another candidate. Fascinatingly, his actual results, in which he made alpha in all the subjects, were misplaced with that of one of the illiterate male students of the affected secondary school; needless to reiterate that the beneficiary of the human error happened to be a daft candidate who could not even defend the results.

      Consequently, the laughable error was duly corrected. Hence, Chisom’s data was updated with the original results whilst the fake excellent results were retrieved from the other candidate; various concerned institutions across the federation were equally notified on the change of impression.

      One month later, Chisom who had already gotten an outstanding grade in his JAMB examination was admitted into his dream university to read Medicine and Surgery. It was like a dream come true.

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The Possessed Maiden

THE POSSESSED MAIDEN

      Though it was conspicuously a sunny day, it seemed rainy and thundery to the willowy but pathetically-looking Deji who could be best described as a walking-cadaver. He kept strolling on the lonely ancient pathway otherwise known as ‘Street’ in disarray, looked rejected. As he stepped forward in his grey three-quarters chintz accompanied by its top and black leather sandals, he could recollect vividly how the abrupt mind-boggling jinx transpired on that Friday afternoon. By merely glancing at his countenance, or what have you, any of the few passersby could attest to the fact that he needed an urgent succour; but none could be of help. Nevertheless, the young man had to forge ahead, in spite of the quagmire, till he arrived at his destination.

      The ‘mind-boggling jinx’ was that the 37-year-old Deji just encountered an unimagined ignominious scene, few seconds ago precisely. As a civil servant, after closure at office, he had unusually decided to have an unannounced brief stopover at his fiancée’s residence situated closely before transcending to his abode which was about twenty kilometres (20km) away, only to witness what could aptly be described as a heist. He caught her red-handed with a weird man right in her bed the moment he (Deji) let the door open with the help of the spare of the door keys that had been in his possession. He actually saw the guest on the 36-year-old Dami, the so-called fiancée.

      Prior to the discovery, he persistently knocked at the door to no avail, thus he thought it wise to make use of the spare keys. It wasn’t that she refused to open the door; she couldn’t even hear the sound of the knock, probably owing to the superlative sensation emanating from the scintillating tango.              

      Dami alongside the ‘august visitor’ couldn’t believe her sight. The guest, who never knew she was engaged, hastily went for his wears, got dressed and dashed out. On her part, Dami kept starring at Deji in silent awe, felt electrocuted having managed to cover her nudeness with a wrapper that was on the bed.

     The most painful part was that, both parties were meant to walk down the aisle in three months time.

     Deji who couldn’t withstand the shock, fiercely dashed out and pitiably headed for his humble abode. He was meant to board a cab that would take him home; in ten minutes time, he was done with the ‘lonely ancient’ street, thus waited impatiently at the bus-stop for any available incoming commercial vehicle. In some seconds, one came seeking for passengers, hence he hopped in. As the cab drove off having gotten the required number of travelers, the thunderstruck and timorous Deji felt like fast-forwarding the time so the expected thirty minutes or thereabouts he was to spend on the tarred road would come to pass without much ado, to enable him embrace his apartment immediately. While in the cab, although very disastrous, he took time to recall every bit of the ugly scene and kept wondering why he could fall victim of such ordeal he only heard or overheard people discuss, or sometimes watched in the movies. In twenty-five minutes interval, he eventually got to his destination at about 5.20pm.

      When he walked into his self-contained apartment, having locked the main entrance, he lied straight on the tiled floor of the parlour never cared to undress. He felt not unlike strangulating himself, and even forgot food that made him to take the cheat unawares.

      Lest I forget, his prime motive of going to Dami’s place was to find something to quench the hunger that was ravaging his person right from when he was still in his office; he only took a light meal before leaving for the office in the morning.

     Within a twinkle of an eye, Dami joined him in the parlour; apparently, she followed him the moment he left her place of residence. Before she entered, she knocked severally at the entrance but he didn’t response, though he never imagined she could be the one at the door; hence, since she equally had the spare keys, she needed not to wait any longer considering how perturbed she was.

     “What are you doing here?” Deji shouted as she stepped in, furiously raised his head from the floor. “Have you come to kill me?” He added fiercely.

      She was speechless, stood still. Uncontrollable tears gushed out from her eyes. “Baby, I am sorr…y!” She managed to exclaim, knelt down.

     The pink maternity gown she put on was apparently also kneeling on the tiled floor, which augmented the unalloyed apology being tendered.

     “You are sorry?” Deji ranted. “You must be a clown.”

       She was quiet, kept sobbing profoundly.

     “You better go back to him,” Deji continued. “And stop bothering my peace.”

     “Who do I go back to?” Dami said calmly. “You know, you are the only one in my life.”

     “You must be kidding.” He asserted.

     “Baby, I really love you.” Dami reminded. “I really do, and you know it.” She enthused, paused. “Just that I don’t know what came over me.”

     She just spoke as if it was only on that occasion she cheated on him; she had done that severally. In a nutshell, cheating was something she observed as a tradition.

     But the contradictory fact was that, she truly loved Deji. The former’s love for the latter could be proven beyond doubts; as a well earned company worker, she was very supportive in various ways including financially and otherwise; above all, she couldn’t spend a week without seeing him. Her sole predicament remained that her libido could not be quenched by only one man. She was insatiably curious to have as many men as possible in bed, unknowingly to her fiancé. It was a disease that needed to be urgently cured by the man in question or anyone who genuinely cared about her. This implied that his unceremonious visit to her place was divine.

     Deji who was mad over the last statement ‘I really love you’, frantically stood up. “In fact, leave my house.” He urged, made attempt to force her out of the apartment having made her to be on her feet.

     She tried to resist it via an emphatic plea, but he eventually pushed her out. Left with no other choice, she hopelessly gathered herself and retraced her steps back to her residence.

     The moment she left, Deji who felt like ending her life when she was with him in the parlour, therein felt like calling her back; significantly, he still loved her.

      Indeed, they both truly loved each other. Even the parents of both partners knew they loved each other strongly that no amount of propellant could make them go their separate ways. But, who could unravel the mystery that was bedeviling the seemingly ‘god-sent’ relationship? It was a puzzle that needed to be solved by all means.

      Afterwards, Deji never bothered to share the bad news with any of his relatives or friends, not even his beloved parents; rather, he thought it wise to consult his spiritual director who he thought was the apt person that needed to get a glimpse of it.

      After all said and done, it was revealed that Dami was possessed, thus Deji reconciled with her on the ground that she would go to his pastor for deliverance. Thereafter, a holistic deliverance was conducted on her by the said cleric. After the spiritual cleansing, she was completely healed of the indelible disease that almost ruined her life.

      Three months on, they both walked down the aisle as planned. Tying the connubial knots ushered in jubilation all the way.   

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Unfinished Mission (II)

UNFINISHED MISSION (II)

    “So DPO,” the anguished and 5-month pregnant Mrs. Adaobi Okezie said the moment she dashed into the office of the Divisional Police Officer (DPO) in her area at about 1.20pm on Friday. “You people are yet to fish out the killers of my husband?” She ranted, standing.

     The DPO, Mr. Von Dike looked at her in distress. “Madam, calm down.” He tenderly urged. “Please, sit down.” He added, gesticulating.

    “I should calm down?” Mrs. Adaobi quarreled. “I am talking about my husband’s death, you are asking me to calm down.” She shouted, stood still.

    “Madam, I understand exactly how you feel.”

    “You don’t understand anything,” she responded. “This is two good days after my husband’s death, and absolutely nothing has been done.”

     The DPO was silent, couldn’t utter a word.

    “You are seated there telling me you understand how I feel.” She rode on. “I am sure you are aware my mother-in-law is late too, as a result of the incident?” she landed.

     “Madam, I care so much about that baby in your womb,” quoth Mr. Von. “So, why not just sit down, let me tell you what we have for you?”

     The last statement struck her owing to the ‘baby in the womb’ mentioned, hence she calmly assumed the seat sited directly opposite the DPO’s.   

     “Madam,” Mr. Von Called. “I can assure you we must get the killers of your husband.”

      Mrs. Adaobi was quiet and calm, looked weird though.

     “We are on it,” he continued. “And, we won’t rest until we get to the end of it.”

      She remained mute and moody.

     “You have two persons presently lying in the morgue,” the DPO said. “So, if I say I don’t know what you are passing through, I deserve to be called a bastard.”

      She looked down and retraced her moony eyes to the DPO.

     “We even planned to be in your house this afternoon,” Mr. Von notified. “Because we have some issues to clarify with you.”

     There was absolute tranquility.

    “I am sure you are aware your late husband was strangled at the spot?” Mr. Von proceeded. “So, it requires a painstaking investigation.” He asserted, paused. “And the investigation cannot be adequately done without your assistance.” He added, looking wholly into her vague eyes.

      She reciprocated the sudden look.

     “Madam,” the DPO continued. “Your husband was in court before he died, right?”

      Mrs. Adaobi Okezie nodded. “Yes.” She supplemented.

     “With his step-brother?”

       She nodded as usual.

     “Was he threatened by anyone before he was killed?”

     “No.” She replied, shaking her head.

     “We have already learnt he was on the way to his shop on that fateful day,” quoth Mr. Von. “Can you tell us what time he usually left for his shop?”

     “5am.” She succinctly said.

     “Was it when he left that day?”

      Mrs. Adaobi replied via a nod. “About ten minutes past five.” She added.

     “It’s apparent your husband was strangulated because the attackers wanted to ensure he died at the spot.” Mr. Von Dike informed hesitantly. “There was no trace of gunshot.”

      Mrs. Adaobi gushed out tears.

     “Is Okay Madam,” Mr. Von consoled. “Please, can you tell us his prospect during the court proceeding?”

     “He had greater chances of winning the case.” She informed amidst the sobs, stood up and attempted to walk away.

     “Is okay,” the DPO enjoined. “You can take your leave.” He said, paused. “We will get back to you soonest.” He assured.

      She dashed out, and headed for her home.

       * * * * * *

     “Mr. Mezie Okezie,” the DPO, Mr. Von Dike called. “Why did you kill your brother?”

     Therein, which marked the following day after meeting with Mrs. Adaobi Okezie, the 28-year-old Mr. Mezie Okezie being the prime suspect of the murder case was being quizzed by the police in the police station having been arrested. He was kept in a secluded room, and was surrounded by five armed police personnel including the DPO, who were all on their feet; he was actually the only one seated.

     “Me,” quoth Mr. Mezie, placing his right hand on his chest. “Killed my brother?” He rhetorically enquired, paused. “For what?”

     “So, you don’t want to tell us the truth?” Mr. Dike insisted.

     “The truth?” Mr. Mezie said. “What the hell is the truth, if I may ask…?”

     “Will you shot up?” Mr. Dike heckled. “You and I know that you are the one who killed Mr. Ifeanyi Okezie.”

      Mr. Mezie shook his head amusingly, sighed.

    “So, you think we are here to crack jokes, right?” the DPO continued.

    “What makes you think I was the one who killed my brother?” quoth Mr. Mezie. “My blood brother?”

      Mr. Dike ignored the question. “Tell me,” he rather said. “Who were your accomplices?”

      Mr. Mezie was mute.

     “Or, do you want me to send my officers away?” Mr. Dike calmly inquired. “Before you could talk?”

     “Please, I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mr. Mezie persisted. “For crying out loud, you should be sympathizing with me over my brother’s death.” He said. “And not the other way round.”

     “Since you are still stubborn,” the DPO said, frowning. “I know what to do.”

     Therein, he ordered his men in the room to torture him till he confessed. They did as requested but all their frantic efforts proved abortive.

     The following week, Mr. Mezie was charged to court by the police having presumptuously gotten the needed evidence to nail him down. Before he was taken to the court, he was persuaded by the police to confide in them, assuring him that he would be freed if he complied; but the apparent hardened individual overlooked the urge.

      While the court proceeding was taking place, the defendant Mr. Mezie Okezie pleaded not guilty in spite of the intimidating alibi presented to the court by the plaintiff, the police. The alibi in question wasn’t unconnected with the fact that Mr. Mezie remained the only rival to the deceased prior to his abrupt exit.

       In the midst of the court proceeding, which lasted for months, Mrs. Adaobi Okezie gave birth to a bouncing baby boy; the kid was named after his late father, thus he was addressed as ‘Ifeanyi Junior’.

      Prior to this moment, the remains of Late Mr. Ifeanyi Okezie had been led to rest due to a court injunction issued in respect to that; his Late mother’s were equally buried same day with his.

      Ten months after, intriguingly, Mr. Mezie confessed that he was responsible for his half-brother’s demise, and went further to inform the court that his mother, Lolo Nma Okezie was the one who instigated him to commit the evil act. He equally named two of his accomplices.

      Owing to the revelation, Mr. Mezie Okezie and his mum coupled with his partners in crime were sentenced to life.

      The conviction, though after a long wait, brought a slight relieve to Mrs. Adaobi Okezie alongside her toddler. At least, the mission left unfinished by her late hubby had seemingly been completed.

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