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Monday, 5 December 2016

Unfinished Mission


UNFINISHED MISSION

    “Mum,” Ifeanyi called in a soared mood.
    “Yes son.” responded his mother, Madam Chika.
    “I have often times asked you to tell me who is my father.”
     The 57-year-old Madam Chika was speechless.
    “Is he dead?” the 24-year-old Ifeanyi rode on. “If he is dead, I want to see his grave.”
      His mother remained calm and sober, couldn’t utter a word.
      Madam Chika Ochi who used to be known and addressed as Lolo Chika Okezie begot the perturbed Mr. Ifeanyi Okezie many years back when she was still in her matrimonial home. She got divorced with her husband, Chief Azu Okezie when Ifeanyi was barely one-year-old, owing to her infidelity; she was actually caught in the act.
      Now, ‘Obi’ had eventually become a man and he anxiously longed to be intimated on his real lineage; hence, the divorcee needed to start confessing, else, something tragic might transpire therein. Though she knew someday the truth would be unveiled to her lovely and only child, she was actually awaiting the right time. Maybe, that was the right time as it was apparent that Ifeanyi could not leave that sitting room at Ochi’s compound without a tangible answer.
     When he was growing up till that very moment he was seated with his mother in the parlour, he was meant to believe that his maternal grandfather Elder J.O. Ochi was his biological dad; but the intriguing part remained that Ifeanyi’s surname had been ‘Okezie’ right from his primary school era till then. Hence, all along, he strongly knew there was something fishy.
    “Everywhere I go,” Ifeanyi proceeded. “They call me a bastard.”
     Ifeanyi who just returned from an informal outing he had with his peers was seated directly adjacent to his mum in the sitting room at his maternal home where he had grown to see as his paternal home. Only both of them were in the enclosed space.
     Madam Chika who was deeply touched by her son’s last words was therein engulfed in ghost pimples. “My son,” she called tenderly, looking into his eyes. “You are not a bastard.” She informed, paused. “And, your father is not dead.”
     “Then, who am I?” the poor chap ranted. “And, where is my father?”
     “Calm down, my son,” Madam Chika enjoined. “I know I have really hurt you for the continued denial of your father.”
      Mr. Ifeanyi gathered himself, became calm having felt relieved.
     “I have been keeping this from you,” she continued. “Waiting till when you grow up.”
      Ifeanyi was quiet and attentive, became more anxious and curious.
     “Your father is Chief Azu Okezie,” she eventually disclosed. “From Umunga village.”
     “Umunga village…?” Ifeanyi wondered.
      His mother nodded continuously. “He has vowed never to see my face again.” She hinted.
     ‘Umunga’ was about thirty minutes drive from Ifeanyi’s maternal home. Funnily enough, Chief Okezie who got married to another woman after he divorced Chika had never bothered to check on his first son, Ifeanyi at his maternal home because he wasn’t willing to catch the sight of his ex-wife again, though he never relented remitting the required alimony for Ifeanyi’s upkeep as was mandated by the customary court that assented to the divorce proposal; he was making the statutory payment via Chika’s bank account. This was the sole reason Ifeanyi hardly knew him in spite of the fact that both parties weren’t separated by a huge distance. However, that didn’t imply he never cared for the chap; there was no second in his life he didn’t think of his well-being.
     “Why?” Ifeanyi inquired. “Were you legally married to him?”
       Madam Chika nodded. “We were legally married until we got divorced.”
     “He divorced you…?”
      She responded via a nod, looked pitiable.
     “Why?”
      She abruptly burst into tears, head bent, felt ashamed.
      Of course, she saw the question coming, thus she was prepared for the sob.
     “Mum, why are you crying?” He said, touched by the storyteller’s sudden change of mood.
     “I cheated on him….” She finally confessed loudly amid the choking sobs.
     “What…?” Ifeanyi exclaimed, shocked.
     “It was the work of the devil ooh…” She claimed, kept sobbing bitterly.
     Ifeanyi was really mad at her until at a point he decided to have a rethink, thus he began to console her having left his seat for hers.
     The following week, Ifeanyi was reunited with his father. The reunion was preceded by every consequential arrangement. Though his father, Chief Azu Okezie could boast of five children – two males and three females begotten by his second cum incumbent wife, he was filled with overwhelming ecstasy to witness the presence of his first son once again in his humble and ancient abode. He took time to let the children of the incumbent wife, Lolo Nma Okezie comprehend that Ifeanyi was their biological brother, hence ought to see him as their blood; but pathetically, their mother, on her part, instigated them to isolate Ifeanyi who she described as one who had come to reap where he never sowed.
     Afterwards, Ifeanyi was deeply discriminated by his step-siblings, particularly his immediate younger half-brother, Mezie who saw him as his greatest rival. The 22-year-old Mezie who happened to be the first child of Lolo Nma could describe Ifeanyi best as an enemy within, thus he left no stone unturned toward unleashing his hatred on him with the help of his derailed mother. All those tricks and antics were taking place in their father’s absence.
     When their father got the report of the unfair treatment via the victim (Ifeanyi), he made frantic effort to resolve the crisis, but all his moves were futile.
     The continued maltreatment made Ifeanyi to bring back his mother to his paternal home having sought his father’s consent, though she was allowed to return on the condition that she would only live at the boys’ quarters. The abrupt return of Madam Chika caused more havoc among the overall children of Chief Okezie, thereby making him to contract hypertension in the long run.
     Two years later, Chief Azu Okezie kicked the bucket at 66, via cardiac arrest; at this time, Ifeanyi and Mezie were 26 and 24 years old respectively.
     At 30, Ifeanyi who was a successful trader got married and wanted to erect his own house, thus sought for plots of land for the proposed project. As the legitimate first son of Late Chief Okezie, his kinsmen told him that he could possess his late father’s compound as the custom demanded. The commendable gesture from the kinsmen triggered Mezie’s venom alongside that of his mother and siblings; according to him, he was the only rightful and legitimate first son of Late Chief Okezie, hence no person should ‘pretend’ as such under any guise.
     Thereafter, Ifeanyi who knew his onions took the case to court. In the process, Mezie foresaw that the plaintiff would eventually emerge victorious, thus he was urged by his mother to eliminate him (Ifeanyi).
     Three weeks on, Ifeanyi was brutally murdered in the early morning of the day by assassins when he was headed for his shop. Behold, his wife, Adaobi was five-month pregnant when the ugly incident transpired.
     The deceased’s mother, Madam Chika also gave up the ghost on hearing the news, leaving the poor Adaobi behind. Indeed, only God knew the story Mrs. Adaobi Okezie would live to tell; the unfinished mission, if not missions, remained vague to her psyche coupled with that of the unborn child.
     What occurred thereafter ought to be a story for another day. So, keep a date with us!

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Just a Dream (II)


JUST A DREAM (II)

     “Just a dream?” Madam Ade pondered, pop-eyed as she sat lonely on a plastic seat at her matrimonial home’s balcony.
     It was barely one week after the burial of her late husband’s remains, at 8:00am on Saturday precisely. She was yet to get the picture of that very dream clearly. To her, Chief R.O. Ade’s abrupt murder was a true manifestation of that nightmare experienced by her last child, Tunji. But she needed a clearer interpretation in order not to go astray. The question remained: who would do the long awaited interpretation? A prophet, chief priest, soothsayer, or a native doctor? Nevertheless, all she knew was that she needed an interpreter, but how to go about it was what the poor widow was yet to come about.
    “What type of dream was that?” She continued in her mourning attire – white silk wrappers and top coupled with white hair scarf and earrings.
     “Mum,” said the 23-year-old Lola who happened to be the firstborn of the couple as she walked to the balcony. “So, you are all alone here.”
     Lola was a three hundred level (300L) undergraduate. She alongside her immediate younger brother named Tunde was the only one who had gotten to a tertiary institution among four of them.
     “My dear,” Madam Ade responded. “Don’t mind your mother.”
      Lola sat closely to her. “Mummy,” she called. “You have to stop thinking about this.” She advised, paused. “Only God knows why dad left at the time we needed him most.”
     Lola and her other two siblings were yet to be briefed on the much-think-about dream. It was still a matter between Tunji and his mum.
     “Where is Tunji?” Madam Ade verified.
     “He’s in his room.” replied Lola
     “Please, go and call him.”
     “Okay mum.” She said, stood up and walked away.
     “Yes mum.” Tunji said the moment he joined his mother in a jiffy as requested in the company of Lola.
     “Please, sit down.” Madam Ade urged him.
    Tunji quickly sat on a separate plastic seat situated very close to his mum’s. On her part, Lola resumed hers. Both siblings were seated opposite each other, facing their mother who was flanked by them.
     “Tunji,” madam Ade called calmly. “Please, tell me more about that dream.”
     “The dream?” quoth Tunji.
      Madam Ade nodded continuously.
     “Which dream?” Lola interrupted.
     “Your kid brother here,” quoth Madam Ade, gesticulating. “Had a very terrible dream prior to your daddy’s death.” She cleared the air hesitantly.
     “A terrible dream?” wondered Lola, looking at both parties.
      Madam Ade nodded. “I am still pondering on it.” She confessed.
     “Tunji,” Lola called. “What’s the dream all about?” She inquired, became perturbed.
     “Daddy was shot in the dream.” Tunji disclosed.
     “Shot…?”
     “Ya,” said Tunji. “He was shot dead.”
     “You mean,” quoth Lola. “daddy was shot dead in the dream?”
      The pale-looking Tunji nodded.
      “Oh my God!” Lola exclaimed, occupied with burning sensation. “Who shot him dead?” she added.
      “Uncle Alagbo.” responded Tunji.
      “Uncle Dada Alagbo?” She enquired, agitated. “His closest colleague in the office?”
      Tunji replied via a nod.
      “No, it can’t be true.” Lola disagreed. “Uncle Dada was daddy’s best friend nah.”
      “That is exactly where I am deeply confused.” Madam Ade interrupted.
      Intriguingly, the man in question, Mr. Alagbo played a very major role, both financially and otherwise, during Chief Ade’s burial rites. And, he was as well greatly touched by the incident.
      “Tunji,” Madam Ade proceeded. “Where was your dad shot in the dream?”
      “In the head.”
      “I didn’t mean the part of his body,” said Madam Ade. “I meant, at which area?”
     “In his car,” replied Tunji. “When he was returning from office.”
     “Were you in the car?” quoth Madam Ade.
     “Yes mum,” said Tunji. “I was seated at the front with dad.”
     “And, you were not shot, right?”
     “Yes mum.”
     “How many persons were involved in the assassination?”
     “Three.”
      Lola shook her head. “Same number of persons that came to the house.” She thought .
     “And, they weren’t masked?” Madam Ade inquired.
     “Yes, mum.” Tunji said. “Their faces were left widely open.”
     “So, one of them happened to be Mr. Alagbo?”
      Tunji nodded frantically. “He was the one that pulled the trigger,” he notified. “Thrice.”
     “Thrice…?” Lola interrupted, bemused. “Exactly the number of times I was told daddy was shot.”
      Madam Ade shook her head. “This is getting more confusing.”
     “Tunji,” Lola called. “What time was that in the dream?”
     “In the afternoon, about 4pm” responded Tunji. “The time daddy usually returned from office.”
     There was absolute unsolicited tranquility.
      In a few seconds time, Late Chief R.O. Ade’s younger and only brother, Mr. Dele Ade who lived closely joined them, hurriedly sat on one of the plastic seats situated a bit farther from the gathering, looked very rejected and tattered.
     “Good morning Uncle Dele!” Lola and Tunji chorused.
     “Good morning, Dele.” Madam Ade followed suit.
     “There is nothing good about the morning ooh…” Mr. Dele exclaimed, scratching all over his body.
    “Such is life.” Madam Ade said, thinking he was still much disturbed by his brother’s departure.
     “I killed him.” Mr. Dele hinted immediately. “I killed him ooh…”
     “What a hell are you talking about?” Madam Ade quarreled apprehensively. “You killed who?”
      Others looked at him in silent awe.
     “I killed Brother Remi ooh.”
      Remi was the first name of his late elder brother, Chief R.O. Ade.
     “You killed who?” Madam Ade shouted, stood up.
     “Yes, I killed him.” He said repeatedly.
      Lola and Tunji couldn’t fathom the unforeseen scenario; they were both trapped in their respective seats. In the process, their other siblings rushed to the balcony having overheard the unwonted noise coming from their mother, only to encounter the mind-boggling disclosure.
     “You mean,” Madam Ade ranted. “You killed your only brother?”
      Mr. Dele Ade had been looking for a means to eliminate the deceased owing to greed. He wanted to own all the plots of land they inherited from their late father all alone. He was of the view that once he succeeded in eliminating Chief R.O. Ade, his two male children wouldn’t be a serious case or a troublesome issue afterwards.
     It might equally interest you to acknowledge that during the burial, while the deceased corpse was dressed in a coffin, according to their custom, it was accompanied with a blunt cutlass to enable his spirit haunt anyone responsible for his demise; though Mr. Dele made a futile effort to oppose the arrangement, stating that it was fetish thus against their family’s faith.
     The uncontrollable uproar raised by Madam Ade immediately after the confession, attracted everyone far and within to Late Chief Remi Ade’s compound. They couldn’t believe their ears as soon as they were briefed on what was going on.
     Therein, Mr. Dele took to the street in an insane mood, leaving his clothes except pants behind.
     Arguably, the evil that men do lives with them, contrary to the famous presumption that it lives after them. Or, what’s your opinion? Think about it!

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Just a Dream


JUST A DREAM

     Tunji who just stepped outside his father’s house in the early morning of the day was so numbed that he couldn’t recognize his mother who was very busy on the premises of the building let alone tendering a salutation as courtesy requested. The nightmare he had the previous night was, to say the least, the worst of its kind ever since he realized the essence of dreams; his ever loving father was shot dead by one of his male colleagues in his working place.
     “Tunji?” the surprised 51-year-old Madam Ade called as she was occupied with her household chores.
     “Yes, mum.” responded the 15-year-old Tunji who happened to be the lastborn of his parents, walked towards her.
     This time, they were standing about half a metre away from each other. The woman in question tied a single wrapper up to her chest whilst the poor boy put on only boxers.
     “Are you alright?”
     “I think I am.” He replied, scratching his head with his right hand.
     “You think you are?”
     “Yes mum.”
     “What’s the meaning of that?”
     “Mum, I am fine.”
     “Are you sure you are okay?”
      He nodded calmly.
     “So,” she said. “How come you couldn’t remember to greet your mum this morning?”
      He was speechless, head bent.
     “Hmm…,” she sighed. “You can go.” She urged, gesticulating, wasn’t satisfied by the responses though.
      He quickly took his leave, walked straight to his room.
     “No, this boy is not fine.” Madam Ade thought as she watched him depart. “This is not him.”
     No doubt, a mother needn’t be told when her child isn’t sound in all ramifications, and Madam Ade wasn’t exceptional. The encounter kept her wondering what actually could prompt such abrupt countenance. She had known Tunji, from day one, to be a happy and well-cultured chap; in other words, he couldn’t possibly forget to greet his beloved mum at such hour of the day. She stood aloof not unlike a sentry as she wondered.
     “Oh God,” Tunji exclaimed aloud after a few seconds he got to his room having sat on his bed. “Was my dad actually shut dead in that dream?” He said.
     “What dream?” queried Madam Ade, who followed him to the room hesitantly, having slightly overheard his soliloquy.
     He was shocked, never expected his mum’s presence. “What?” He managed to utter.
     She sat very close to him. “Were you not the one who mentioned a dream right now?”
     “Mummy, I have told you,” quoth Tunji. “I am fine.”
     “Shut up,” enjoined Madam Ade. “You are not fine.” She added, paused. “It is written all over you.”
       He kept calm.
     “And if you don’t tell me what is eating you up,” she proceeded. “Your dad will hear about it.”
     “Please mum,” he pleaded. “Don’t tell him.”
      His father Chief R.O. Ade was a no-nonsense man who understood the most accurate way to discipline a child whenever he/she misbehaved or how best to make him/her answerable to, or confide in, his/her parents regardless of the situation.
     “Then, you have to start talking,” she urged. “Besides, are you not going to school today?” She added.
     The time check was 6.50am. Their four children were meant to comprehend the essence of going to school early or on time.
     “Well,” she rode on. “First, tell me what’s bothering you.”
     “I had a dream last night.” He eventually disclosed sluggishly.
     “A dream?’
      He nodded.
     “Last night?”
     Tunji nodded again. “But, it was terrible.” He informed. “Very horrible.”
    “Terrible?”
    “Yes mum.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “Daddy was shot dead.”
    “What..?” shouted Madam Ade, bemused. “Shot dead?”
       He nodded.
     “Your daddy?”
      He also replied via a nod.
     “By who?”
     “Uncle Alagbo.”
      Mr. Dada Alagbo was the name of his father’s junior colleague who pulled the trigger in the said nightmare.
     “Mr. Alagbo?” Madam Ade said.
     Tunji nodded.
     “Dada Alagbo?” She reiterated.
      She couldn’t fathom the story owing to the fact that the man in question happened to be one of the closest colleagues, if not closest, to her husband – Chief R.O. Ade.
     “Yes, mum.” responded Tunji, head bent.
     “Hmm…” Madam Ade oozed out a huge air. “This is serious.” She thought aloud.
     “I am confused too.” quoth the poor teen.
     “Your father must hear this.”
     “Mum, don’t tell him,” Tunji suggested. “After all, it’s just a dream.” He thought it wise.
     Madam Ade tenderly looked at him. “I think you are right.” She said, nodding. “Please, go and get ready for school.” She urged after some seconds, stood up and took her leave.
    “Okay mum.” He replied, hurriedly left the room for the bathroom.
* * * * * *
     “Where is the money?” One of the three masked robbers, who just invaded Chief Ade’s house, queried the chief as he lied in his matrimonial bed alongside his wife, Madam Ade.
     The couple couldn’t believe their eyes; it was just like a mere dream.
     This was happening at about 12.06am exactly at the moment Madam Ade was still recollecting the ugly story her son, Tunji shared with her in the early morning of the previous day.
     “I said, where is the money?” the baron repeated as Chief Ade coupled with his wife was left speechless.
     “There’s no money in the house.” Chief Ade answered, staggering.
     “Oh,” the other robber said. “You think we are here for child’s play, right?”
     “The money, or …” the third robber who appeared like the gang’s leader added succinctly, pointing his gun at Chief Ade.
     “Please, don’t kill my husband.” Madam Ade stammered.
     “Shut up, woman!” the first speaker ordered.
       Before he could finish, the apparent leader who could best be described as an Iroko tree quickly released the trigger thrice, and the gun’s bullets landed on Chief Ade’s chest.
     He passed away instantly.
     Madam Ade widely opened her eyes and mouth in awe, couldn’t fathom the scene.
     The robbers took their leave in a jiffy.
     The moment they left, Madam Ade screamed and screamed, but pathetically the evil had already been unleashed.
     Therein, her two children including Tunji who were living with the parents rushed out only to meet their father lying helplessly on the bed in cold blood. It seemed, all along, they never knew what was transpiring until their mother’s scream came up.
     They all collectively sobbed uncontrollably right in the room. The other children of Chief Ade - now late, who were in the university, despite their absence, were ostensibly touched by the gravity of the endless gasping, choking sobs coming from their siblings and poor mother.
     What took place thereafter ought to be a story for another day. Or, what do you think? Think about it!

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