DEAR MAMA, ITS SAFER IN THE PRISON

It sounded like the bellows of many a wounded bull. That was dad’s angry voice directed at mum as usual. I knew what would come next, what always came next. At once, I sped from my room, across the luxuriously furnished parlor and into dad’s bedroom, throwing the door ajar. “Stop it, dad”! I screamed. Dad’s hand froze in the air. I am a heroine, mama would be so proud of me now, I thought. I felt pride wash over me. I let it sweep me away in a merry swirl. I was so busy sailing in the sea of pride at having saved the day that I didn’t notice the warning look in mama’s eyes. Dad’s frozen hand unfroze and landed on my face, ending my smooth swirl in turbulence. Mama made to stop him, but his fists kept landing on me again and again, until I lost consciousness and fell into an ocean of darkness which was oddly welcoming. * * * * * * * * * * * The next day was Sunday, and although mama was in almost all the women associations in church, she did not go to church neither did I. Dad went to church of course, he never misses Sunday service. When friends came to inquire of us as to why we didn’t come to church, the story was the same; we fell from the staircase. We dared not soil dad’s reputation. The consequences would be too grave. The good lawyer must be seen as perfect always. Or must he? Why couldn’t mama report him to her family or even leave him before he beats her to death? Why would mama allow herself to be transformed from an intelligent accountant into a housewife and a punching bag? I had many questions. “Martha Chinenye Eze, some questions should never be asked.” Mama said when I confronted her. “But mama, I don’t understand it, you could easily leave if you wanted. See what dad is doing to you. How many more miscarriages will you have as a result of dad’s beatings? How many more, mama?” “Martha, you have said enough already, go to your room and sleep”, mama said calmly. “Mama, how can you hide so much pain? Do you not feel like a hypocrite when you hide your pains behind those smiles of yours? Don’t you? Don’t you, mama?” “You talk way older than your age, now go on and sleep, child”, mama said smiling. That’s the part I hated, that smile. That calm even with the entire whirlwind around her. That straight elegant sitting posture even after dad breaks her back bone. And the way she calls me child as if all was well. “I am not a child! I’m fifteen, mama! Fifteen!” I screamed and marched into my room banging the door shut behind me. No sooner had I lain on the bed than I heard the poundings across the hallway. The sound of dad’s fists like a skilled drummer hitting a stone, for like the stone, mama never made a sound. It went on and on. Mama would never shout, lest she put dad’s reputation at stake. In the morning, before 7am, mama had already prepared breakfast for dad. Her fingers trembled as she served him the tea. Was it from physical pain or emotional trauma? Was it from the psychological torture she had to endure every day? I’ll never know, for mama would never tell. It was then, I knew I had to save her; she was way too fragile to save herself. ************* It was easy. I set mama up and she was taken away for attempted murder of dad. Of course she was innocent, for mama would never hurt a fly, but I testified against her in court. Dad pleaded passionately on her behalf, but my testimony was too strong and hence, she was sentenced to twenty years imprisonment with no option of fine. That was the best day of my life, for mama was at last free from dad. I know mama, when I explain why I had to do what I did, she would understand. I think she even suspected my reasons already, judging from the knowing smile she gave me as she was being taken into the heavily guarded black maria. Mama is a smart woman. She was fragile but smart. I still had some explaining to do to mama, so I picked up my pen, and started the letter. As I wrote, I wondered how many more women needed redemption. I’m sure they will be more than we imagine, for you will never tell from their smiles; take mama for instance. “Dear mama, It’s safer in the prison…” THE END. ILOANUSI SOROCHI

THE KAISO SERIES PART 1: THE VALENTINE SURPRISE

When I was younger, I used to like surprises, but now, I am not so sure I do anymore, not after the surprise I got last valentine, Feb, 14, 2010.

………………………………………..

I woke up with so many expectations, having dreamt of every imaginable scintillating and head swooning surprise there was. I had told Bayo my boyfriend how much I liked surprises and he  promised to surprise me on Val’s day.

“Chukwukaiso Okeke, are you not going to church today?” my roommate Chioma asked, looking at me askance, I stared back at her obtuse as if I didn’t hear a word she said. She was all dressed up for church down to her head tie.

“Kaiso, are you not going to church?” she repeated. Yes, that’s my roommate Chioma, the mother hen, relentless, never one to let sleeping dog lie, let alone a poor sleeping girl like me (I expect a little sympathy at this point. Lol).

“I’ll go for evening mass”, I said, I just wanted her to leave me alone. I didn’t want to go to church, I wanted to condition my mind for the valentine flexing with Bayo. Chioma muttered something about leaving the key at the door when I want to go out and left. I didn’t hear her well as my mind was already busy picturing the surprise. Was it going to be a candle light dinner with Lionel Richie singing blues while I sip a French wine with Bayo? Or was he planning on sending me a pink pony with a box of chocolate tied in pink ribbon and a single red rose attached to it? Or will he get me a ticket for the Paris fashion week? Or will he…….?

My mind was working overtime, so I decided on a cold shower to snap me back to reality before I start imagining golden castles and me riding in a royal carriage alongside the queen of England, with Jay-Z as the coach man.

While I was in the shower, I wouldn’t help being puzzled at the injustice of the university system. I mean why should there be lectures on Feb 15? Is it fair? After gallivanting and having fun on the 14^th, doesn’t one deserve a Val’s holiday, even if it is for just one month? Yeah, I know. I know I’m a lazy student ,even Bayo said so. Actually, the fact that I was dating Bayo is the Ninth wonder of the world because we have so little in common. The thing is, he is a bookworm, and me? Well I am a scientist trying to discover a way to get a degree without opening a page of my book.

I was still wondering what the heck I was doing date a bookworm when my phone rang. I dashed out of the bathroom to get the call. Speak of the devil!

“Hello, Bayo”, I spoke coolly trying to hide the excitement rushing through my vein like liquid flame.

“Sweetheart”, he said in that Bayo way, “happy Val”

“Happy Val, baby!”, I screeched, having thrown away my cool out through the open window.

……………………………………………..

Chioma came back by 1PM. After eating hungrily, she took her bath again. By 4PM, she was already dressed for a Valentine date. She was putting on a lovely red short evening dress. She looked beautiful, I wondered who she was dressing up for, I thought she broke up with her boyfriend last month.

I didn’t want to ask her but she kept on smiling conspiratorially, I couldn’t help myself.

“Chioma, who is the new guy?” I asked. She smiled in that annoying I – thought –you – would – never – ask manner, which always pissed me off. Well, this time, I was too curious to care.

“It’s Christian, I saw him in church today and we made up again”.

“Oh”, I said rolling my eyes.

Chioma’s  phone rang.

“It’s him, he’s here”, she said and smiled again then dashed out on her silver high – heeled sandals.

……………………………………………..

I was already dressed in my mono strap red mini dress with gold details. I glanced at my wristwatch; it screamed 7:30PM. Bayo was supposed to come and pick me by 7PM, it was 7:30PM and he was nowhere to be found. I tried calling him, but his number wasn’t connecting. I was getting really anxious, my stomach tied in a knot as my heartbeats turned into heart bangs. I was already beginning to imagine the worse when I heard the doorbell.

I rushed to the door and opened it, and there stood Bayo, half wet from the rain. I would have pounced on him like an angry mob it not for the wrapped gift and flowers he held on his hands.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I was caught in the traffic and I couldn’t call because my battery died’. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Ok? Please. I got you a surprise gift”, he said with an unsure smile.

“Come in”, I said.

He came in and sat down after I did. “Happy Val, sweetheart”, he said handling me the wrapped gift. I smiled, regaining my excitement. I love surprises! Before I had a chance to open the gift, Chioma barged in, looking so excited.

“Hi Bayo! Kaiso! See the Valentine gift Christian got for me”, she said bringing out a pair of red Jimmy Chow stilettos, and a French wine!

“Wow! Chioma, I’m so happy for you!” I said and proudly brought out my own wrapped gift.

I was so sure Bayo wrapped up Jimmy Chow himself as my Val gift. I trust him, he never ceases to surprise me, I thought, smiling lovingly at Bayo who wore an uneasy look on his face.

“See the one Bayo got for me”, I proudly announced.

“Lemme see!”, Chioma said, as she dived at it and tore the wrapper open to reveal the gift.

I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Chioma as her jaw dropped in surprise. How could Bayo do this to me? I thought.

“PAST QUESTIONS COMPILATION AND SOLUTION SET IN STAT 204?!” I and Chioma screamed at the same time!

“Surprise!” Bayo exclaimed with a silly smirk on his face.

ILOANUSI SOROCHI .H.

KAIMA

I hear their footsteps. Approaching, slowly approaching, their feet threading with caution like the predator they are. Their breathe form a blood thirsty rhythm. My heart beat so loud like a talking drum. I am afraid they might hear me, so I try to control my heartbeat by holding my breath but it only serves to hasten the tempo and make it sound more distinctive like the sound of a drum in a hollow cave, complete with the echoes. The trees and the little creatures around me whisper conspiratorially, creating a cacophony. I can almost taste the blackness of the night. The earth underneath my feet is suspiciously cold, almost lifeless. I will my body to stillness, lest they detect my position from my body movement. I can sense them. They are closer. Only five steps due North and they will get me. Cold shivers run down my spine as fear wraps its icy arms around me, bathing my flesh with goose bumps which suddenly refuse to disappear even after several heartbeats. Now, I fear not for my life but for the message that will be lost to the progeny of Eve, the whole generation of mankind if I do not complete my mission. At this point, I cannot help remembering how it all started.

                                                              ………………………………………..

On the night of my 18^th birthday, I had a dream. A dream that would change my life and the life of the whole generation of mankind.

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I was walking around the hostel. i saw the faces of all the hostel residents at once. They were all lying down, sleeping peacefully. I could float among them, like a drifting cloud. As I glided from one room to another one face caught my attention. I looked closely at her, and somehow, I could see inside her eyes, although they were closed. I saw the constituents of her eyes, the choroids, the iris, the lens, the network of nerves. Then right there in her eyes, I saw all the dreams she had ever had, they were spread out like paper work on an office desk. Unarranged, but I could place them anyway. Different dreams with different colours and hues and intensity. I saw her dream of being Nigeria’s first female president, it was whitish, with a few streaks of faint red and yellow. I saw her dream of getting married to a model husband and being a successful mother of five kids, it was white with very many streaks of pure red, a few blue streaks here and there. The intensity of red streaks on this particular dream were greater than that of her other dreams. Perhaps, she had more passion for this one than the other dreams. The typical African woman, I thought smiling, of course family would naturally be the most important thing to her.

While I was still looking into her dreams I heard a movement. I looked up to see a tall dark complexioned ruggedly handsome young man with a pair of blazing eyes the intensity of a witch’s cauldron. He glided the way I did. I couldn’t resist talking to him. I wanted to know if his voice was as beautiful as he was.

“Uhmm… hello” I said.

He didn’t even look in my direction, instead he glided towards the girl I was looking at.

“I am Kaima”, I said. “Who are you?” I added, hoping he would be so gracious as to let me hear his voice at all.

He didn’t reply, instead he brought his hands forward towards the girl’s eyes and immediately, his finger nails formed claws. He plucked the girl’s eyes, tearing them open.

“Nooo !” I screamed. “Stop it!”.

How could he do this, I thought. He continued what he was doing as if he were deaf. He extracted all the dreams from the girl’s eyes, everyone of them.

I was in shock, I could not move. I stood transfixed to the spot where I was, much like a molten statue.

The young man poured the dreams into a large jar he carried like a bag at his back. In the jar, I could see all the dreams he had extracted. He covered the jar with its lid and glided away through the wall, with the jar on his back.

I looked at the girl again, and when l looked into her eyes this time, they were hollow, not even a single dream was remaining. And then it hit me. Dreams signify hope, so when one’s hope is gone, life loses its taste, like a saltless African dish. And when life loses its taste, death becomes the next most palatable dish to be devoured by the despaired and hungry soul.

“You are wearing the coat of invisibility, that was why he didn’t see you”, a voice said. I looked up and saw no one, then I looked down and saw a dwarf. He seemed oddly familiar like the sound of an old forgotten song. He wore a blue robe. I turned my attention back to the girl.

“Kaima, there is no time to beat about the bush, you are here now, because you are among the dream emancipators of the progeny of Eve,” he said.

I looked at the dwarf again. He was as dwarfish as it got, complete with the stunted arms and big head with sharp edges like a carved wooden statue.

“You are very crucial to the retrieval of the jar of stolen dreams. The Youngman you saw earlier is the ARCH COLLECTOR of dreams, his name is Erika. You will be fighting him in less than a fortnight to retrieve the jar of stolen dreams. If it is not retrieved, in a fortnight the dream of these humans will be sacrificed at the feet of EFU, the goddess of the dream hunters”.

The way he said ‘humans’ as if he was not human.

“We cannot allow that to happen” he said pluckily. He stopped talking and looked at me askance, while I stared at him obtuse, as if I didn’t hear a word he said.

Not minding me, he continued, “My name is Akahda. Your training starts tonight. Do you have any questions?”

Many questions formed in my mind within split seconds. Why was I chosen? Who was I working with? What is the extent of my job? How much time would I put into the training? Do I even have a choice in this matter? I even wanted to ask him how I come he was so dwarfed. All that came out from my dry throat was “Is this real?”

Putting a small wooden figurine into my right hand, Akahda said, “its time for you to go back to your world.” Training starts tonight.

The shrill sound of the alarm woke me up, and when I gained consciousness of my surroundings, I breath a sigh of relief.

“Thank God it was just a dream!” I exclaimed rather loudly, startling Chioma my roommate who was reading on her desk.

“What is that on your hand?” Chioma quizzed, tilting her eyebrows askance.

It was then that I realized I was clutching something on my right hand. I looked at it. It was a small wooden figurine, the exact depiction  of a certain familiar looking dwarf.

………………………………………

For the next 10 days, I had a series of rigorous training in the dream world. Akahda was my instructor, he was an untiring small man who could drive even a giant and bull into exhaustion.

After the training, I was allowed to go back to the real world, to enable me make the final decision whether I would embark on the mission or not.

When I returned, I found myself in the hospital surrounded by my parents and my room mates Nnenna and Chioma.

“She’s awake!” Chioma announced, excitement washing over her like a flood.

“Kaima, Nwa m, You are awake! Chei!  Thank God! Praise God!” my mother exclaimed raising  her hands and face heavenward.

“Let me go and call the doctor!” my father said. His eyes were sunken from sleepless nights, I suppose.

“Kaima nwa m, whoever did this to you, may their light be covered with a heavy mortar. May they never see good in their lifetime!” my mother cursed.

“Its ok, Mum. Nobody did anything, ok? I’ll be fine,” I said reassuringly to her. Her eyes were swollen from crying. I could still see a short whitish trail of dried tears on her left eye. Mum had always been such a crier.

I noticed that Nnenna was quiet in such a manner that denotes that there was much unsaid.

“Nnenna, what is the matter?” I asked.

“Nothing Kaima. I’m just happy that you are awake”, Nnenna replied, but I knew better.

“Chioma, what is the matter?”

Chioma wasted no time in telling me that Lucy, a girl in our hostel committed suicide. According to the note she left, her reason for the act was that her dreams were gone and so life had lost its appeal, so there was no point going on with her life.

There and then, I made up my mind to go after that jar of stolen dreams with all my heart no matter what it took even if it meant losing my life. I didn’t care about myself anymore.

“The doctor is here”, Dad announced as he came into the ward.

“Welcome back young lady”, the doctor said merrily. He sounded a tad unserious, I observed.

I looked up at the doctor, then I forgot to breathe for a moment. The doctor was no other person than Erika the ARCH COLLECTOR of dreams.

“So what have you been dreaming about these ten days you’ve been in coma?” Erika asked smiling.

I fainted.

……………………………………………

Acting on Akahda’s instruction, I escaped from the hospital the next day, and went to stay in the hut of an old deaf woman in the village of Ahabuoka. Her name was Ekeubi. She used to be an emancipator in her youthful days.

I received a series of instructions from Akahda and by the 13^th night, I was ready to go after Erika.

Akahda gave me a signet ring and a matching necklace.

“Do you understand that you could lose your life in this mission?” He asked.

“Yes” I replied

He hugged me and although it was brief, it felt like home.

“I think you are ready to meet the others now” he said.

“The others?” I asked. He hadn’t told me there were others.

“Yes, there are six others. Each of you represents the arch emancipators of the different continents of the earth,” Akahda replied.

The six others all had the same signet ring and necklace as the one Akahda gave me.

An invisibility coat was handed to each of us, and we marched down to the kingdom of the great hunters. I took one last glance at Akahda. He winked at me. I winked back. A jolly good fellow he was.

……………………………………………….

The fight was gory. I killed Erika and three other dream hunters. The other emancipators also fought bravely. However, we had casualties. The Australian and the European were killed. The Asian was captured alive. The Asian was captured alive. We succeded in gathering five large jars of stolen dreams. The dreams will be emancipated and hopefully returned in time to their owners lest they share the same unfortunate fate as Lucy. I could only hope.

I stayed back in the kingdom of the dream hunters hiding and waiting for about six days, to see if I could rescue the Asian. I was finally able to  sneak to him on the sixth day, and by the time I got to him, he was already dying. I couldn’t save him anymore. He gave me a message which he inscribed into his wooden figurine. It was untranslatable unless taken outside the dream world.

“Guard with life…World dream save. Guard big secret” he said, struggling to communicate in English. I hugged him. Then we heard the footsteps of the dream hunters and he broke the hug.

“Go”, he said motioning with his hand. I hesitated for a moment. He nodded and motioned again for me to go. I left with tears in my eyes.

Clutching the message in my hand, I ran. Soon the dream hunters were hot on my trail, and before I could get to the bridge that separated the dream world from the real world, they blocked me off, so I had no option than to hide in the bush and wait, my heart in my palms, hoping I would get even the slightest opportunity to make a dash for the bridge.

……………………………………………..

I can sense them, they are closer, only five steps due North, and they would get me. Cold shivers run down my spine as fear wraps its icy arms around me, bathing  my flesh with goose bumps which stubbornly refuses to disappear even after several heartbeats. Now, I fear not for my life, but for my message that will be lost to the progeny of Eve, the whole generation of mankind, if I do not complete my mission.

ILOANUSI SOROCHI .H.