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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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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