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 18th birthday, I had a dream. A dream that would change my
life and the life of the whole generation of mankind.
………………………………………………
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 13th 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.
