27 Feb 2009 |
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Ahaoma Kanu Our journey to the east was smooth without hitches as we passed several northern towns and villages. Wale did not stop at any of the stations for fear that his cargo might be discovered, but when complaints of hunger came from his colleagues who had exhausted the food they had, he decided to stop at a place safe and away from any town. Everyone was hungry as we had all not eaten anything since the night we left Zaria till the evening of that day. Wale and friends had to devise a way to buy food. As we got to one of the train stations; I had no idea of the exact villages we were passing, he passed the station and stopped a mile ahead. Jasper and Dede were deployed to go back to the town to buy food. “Na only us go eat?” Umaru asked, “What about the people wey we carry?” He asked. “Abeg dat one no concern me”, Jasper replied, “They suppose happy say we save their life not to complain about hunger” he said arrogantly, ready to move on. “But na true Umaru talk”, Wale interrupted, “We suppose buy them something even if na bread” he suggested. “Bread? Wey the money?” Jasper cried, “If the Oyibo woman give you money make you talk now.” “Jasper wetin dey worry your head, how many times I go tell you say I no collect shilling for this thing”, Wale replied angrily. “Then how you wan buy bread for all these plenty people wey dey there”, Jasper replied pointing to the coaches. They did not mind that the people were listening to their argument. “We go pay for our bread abeg!” One of the women shouted from inside the coach. “Wetin that person talk?” Jasper asked. “They said they will pay for their bread”, I called out to them from the window. “Oh they get money sef”, Dede asked. “No be Ibo dem be, Ibo wey sabi hide money well well”, Jasper said jokingly. They all started laughing, allowing the brewed to tension to subside. Wale called me down and told me to go inform the people to contribute money for the food. I climbed inside the coach to reach them; they were all sitting down on the floor of the train, some of the women were lying down with their babies and children. A few of the men sat on top of the drums and they all looked up to me as I came in. I explained the situation to the people. The response was encouraging; some of them had managed to hide some money in their underwear and pockets while quite a number of them lost everything. Those that had money contributed while the people that were penniless looked on hopefully. As I gathered the contributions which were mainly in coins, I calculated ₤2,10shillings; it would definitely not be enough for all of the people. I knew that the people that had money were just being selfish and had to do something pretty fast. “Please my people”, I started, “I want to let you know that this money will not be enough for all of us. None of us prayed for these events to happen and nobody planned to be going back to the east this way. I know some of us have money and others don't, please I want to beg those that have to give more. Remember that none of us paid to be in this train and also the people that harboured us at the Red Cross did not collect a dime from us but yet, risked their lives for us. I am begging, if you know you still have some money, endeavour to contribute more so that all for us can have something to eat. The road is still very far and after all, we are going home where there will be plenty for us. Let us show the spirit of kindness and oneness, remember we are all Ibos; brothers and sisters. I and my brothers will also donate ₤5 to this amount we already have”. Those words were the only sweet things I could say and my appeal worked; immediately there were rustlings as people started responding. Women untied the knots in their wrappers while others pulled out their purses from their breasts. The men unbelted their trousers in a bid to reach to their pants and inner shorts where they had hid money. “Nwa mu welu shilling ise”. “Ne ₤3”. “Welu ₤7 nye ya”. Those became the responses I got and the money started increasing. People donated kind heartedly while those without anything to give called out blessing on the givers for their generosity. I was all smiles and kept saying “Thank you” over and over again. At the end we had contributed ₤23.80 for the purchase of food for ourselves. “Tell the driver and his friends to keep their money, it is for all of us”, one man said, I remember he handed me ₤10 and whispered that I should retain my ₤5. As I came down from there and handed the money over to Wale, all their eyes were popping in surprise. “How much?” he asked me still gaping at the money. “Twenty-three eighty”, I replied proudly, “For everybody including you and your friends”. “God go bless una make una reach una place safely”, Umaru prayed aloud. “Amen!” They all responded except Jasper who seemed to be lost in thought. “Jasper wetin again?” Dede asked him, his muteness was very evident. “How we go carry dat amount of bread without suspicion?” He asked. “I sabi the man wey get the bakery here, na Yoruba man. He will help us”, Wale replied his question. “Na only me and Dede go carry the whole things?” Jasper asked again. “I go follow una go”, Wale replied in his normal pidgin English. They succeeded in buying the food and did not only bring the breads in sacks, they also came with variety of fruits; mangoes, bananas and pineapples all freshly plucked. Wale informed us that his baker friend took pity on us when he heard our story and so the gesture. Dede and Umaru took plastic gallons to fetch water from a nearby river. The breads were shared among everyone. Wale ordered that one of the drums of palm oil be opened so that it could be used as sauce in eating the bread, so that gave the people a choice of either using river water or palm oil to eat their bread. The fruits were not enough to go round so I suggested that it should be shared among the wounded, children and nursing mothers. Nobody challenged the decision. As the merriment ensued, it reminded me of the story in the bible where the Lord fed the people. It was a touching sight to see the people eating bread with palm oil happily and with joy. They all ate and drank, grateful to God for sparing their lives from the people of northern Nigeria. For close to two hours, the people fed themselves, not knowing that that would be the last supper they would have in their respective lives. After the short break for feeding, we continued our journey home. I suggested that Wale allow us to be with the others in the coaches but he refused. “I promise Kemi say una go stay with me for engine. I no want take any risk”, He insisted. That singular decision saved us from the massacre that was about to happen in the evening of the next day. The journey so far had without any hindrance, maybe because we were on a cargo train or it was due to Wale’s decision not to be stopping at the stations. Around 4pm, I heard him call out to his friends that that we were at Ayalugu. “Is that the name of this place?” I asked him quietly. “Yes”, he replied, “we go soon reach Makurdi once we cross the bridge there. Na im be say we don reach east be that”, he explained further. As it was, Makurdi was a town in the Benue region of the northern part of the country and shared borders with the east. The Makurdi Bridge was one of the two bridges linking the north and the east, the other being the Jebba Bridge in the Niger area also in the north. Like Wale said, crossing the River Benue bridge would be a guarantee of safety as one would have passed all the hostile regions in the region. We did not have a fore knowledge that the bridge at Makurdi had been sealed off by men of the army in order to fish out fleeing easterners. Our lack of knowledge was made possible by our one way trafficking, had it been that Wale made it a point to stop at the stations to make enquiries, maybe the bloodbath at what was later to be known as the Red bridge of Makurdi would have been averted. I looked out of the window to notice signs of living around which showed that we were finally getting into Makurdi. I kept looking at the many round huts popularly called doki houses that adored the area; it was evening and the town seemed to be relaxing. Activities were normal so nobody was suspicious of anything. I assumed that all was well and so laid my head back on my legs to sleep. I had barely closed my eyes for five minutes when I heard Wale muttering to himself. “Shit!” He cursed again. I felt less concerned. “I don enter trouble today”, he said through his breath, I became alarmed. The train started slowing down and the rumbling echoes that started indicated we were on top of the bridge. I sat up and looked outside the window; the whole sky was filled with vultures that made quick dashes at objects floating on the river. At first I could not make out what the colourful objects were. “We go die o, I don die o”, Wale started muttering, perspirations already all over him. His hands became unsteady and shook profusely. “What is it?” I asked still not grasping the situation. “You no see army wey dey front and people wey dey don kill throw away”, Wale responding fearfully. It was then that the objects made meaning and became clearer; I suddenly made out the outlines of the bodies of people floating in different directions all over the River Benue. Goose pimples covered my whole body and I began trembling too. I almost defecated on myself when I sighted the battalion of soldiers in front of us. They stood by the sides of the rail block they mounted looking like monsters. I had been seeing soldiers on uniforms before then at Kaduna, but the ones standing on our way portrayed the sight of death; their green-camouflage uniforms that used to appear ordinary before became a colour announcing death. They held tightly to their rifles in a way showed their desire to open fire at the slightest provocation. Wale called out to his colleagues in the next compartment. “Wetin be dat?” Jasper asked sluggishly, obviously waking from sleep. “Soldiers block the bridge”, Wale informed them, still very much afraid. “Ki le wi?” Dede asked in Yoruba as he peeped his head out of the small room. “Army soldiers don block the bridge, we don enter trouble”, Wale announced audibly. They all ran into the engine room and looked out from the window. It was dramatic; each of them would take a peep, give an exclamation and throw their hands over their head. “Wale don kill me today, I warn am before we commot for Kaduna!” Jasper cried. Slowly our train started halting as it neared the soldiers’ blockade, some of the soldiers were pointing their rifles at the window and one of them, who seemed to be their commander, raised his hand motioning the train to halt. Wale and his friends were shaking so much that one of them stepped on Ekene’s hand were he was sleeping peacefully, his cry of pain passed unnoticed by either of the jittery men. “They don stop us”, Wale was saying; he kept saying everything that was happening as if we were not witnessing it. “Kai, na so man pickin go take go be dat”, Jasper continued wailing. In all, Umaru seemed to be the calm person; he just kept watching the soldiers ahead and only turned to tell Ekene to keep quiet. “Make everybody no fear, we go talk to them”, he assured. “You and who go talk to these khaki-men, they go just shoot you throw away”, Jasper lamented. “Wale, make you show them the letter wey you collect from Red Cross”, Dede suggested. “I no carry any letter”, Wale confessed, all of them froze at the revelation. “You no carrry letter” Umaru asked angrily, “Wetin you want make we tell them now?” Jasper cried at Wale’s revelation. “What if they search the train?” Dede asked Wale. “Which one be if they search the train? They go serch am!” Jasper cried. “I say make una shut up! I go talk to them”, Umaru maintained. “If they search the train nko?” Wale asked looking pleadingly at Umaru who appeared to be the saviour. “That one na your business”, Umaru replied silently and bitterly. I knew he would not care whatever happens to us. Okechukwu and Ekene were now wide awake and sensed the tension. I put one of my fingers in my mouth in a gesture for them to be quiet. “Umaru, una wey be Hausa make una beg them abeg make they no kill us”, Wale pleaded. None of them was listening to him, he turned and looked at us and shook his head in pity. “Kemi you don put me for palaver, see trouble wey woman don put me now”, Wale wailed. At last, the train stopped. The steam from the engine started escaping with some hissing sound. Everybody was silent and listened. The next thing we heard were numerous sound of boots coming towards us and the cocking of rifles. Jasper started praying silently. “EVERYBODY COME DOWN!” The command was thunderous as well as frightening. It was repeated by whoever was giving it, followed by more rustling of running boots as the soldiers took positions yelling at the top of their voices in Hausa. We all held our breath and stood still; Jasper pissed on himself; Wale was looking directly at me, with eyes wide open in fear; Dede was silently muttering some verses from the Koran with his lips moving and his hands shaking while Umaru, who had been exhibiting some act of bravery, started trembling. Okechukwu and Ekene came close to me and held tightly to my hands, I in turn held on to my chaplet. I never for once remembered to pray. “EVERYBODY COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!” The order came again. In a quick succession, all them raised their hands up as if the soldiers could see them or shoot them if they refused to comply. “Lafia ka lo”, Umaru greeted the soldiers outside in Hausa. “Come down first!” The voice commanded, but in a subtle manner this time. “We are coming down Sir”, Umaru replied, “We just dey carry palm oil dey go Port Harcourt”, he went on still hesitating to go down. The soldiers did not say anything. Umaru turned and looked at us again before descending to meet the soldiers. I could see, in his eyes, that his mind was made up, he would surely betray us. As soon as he went down, he was ordered to lie down on the ground. We could hear him lying down pleading to the soldiers not to kill him as he was a fellow northerner and Muslim. As we were all listening to Umaru’s rough interrogation, Wale picked up courage and told us to come with him into the inner room behind the engine compartment where his colleagues had been staying all the while. The place was a small cubicle that contained a big wooden box and some blue dirty and greasy overalls, like the one Wale wore to the Clinic, hanging on nails knocked to the sideboard. Wale opened a big box and put Okechukwu and Ekene inside, the box contained engine parts. The cubicle was very noisy and steamy as different jaws of pulleys and gears were visibly seen working. The boys fit well into the box, Wale instructed me to hide by the side of the box which I did sharply. He took down some of the blue overalls and covered me with them. “You people should not make any noise”, he whispered and shut the cubicle door. From then on, I strained my ears to listen to what was happening outside. I could hear the shuffling of feet as Wale and the rest got down and were asked to lie down. I heard them all lie down and also heard as the heavy army boot marched to where they were. “Who be you people and wetin una carry?” . “Where una dey go?” “Where una dey come from?” They were asking questions at the same time both in Pidgin and in Hausa. “I be Umaru, I be Hausa from Gusua.” Umaru answered to our hearing, “I follow my Yoruba friend here wan do business”. “Which bloody business? What are you transporting?” Came the rattle of questions directed at Umaru. From the way he answered, one needed not to be told he was being molested. “Who be the driver?” One of the soldiers asked. I froze immediately that question was asked. No reply from any of them. “I say who driver be of this train among you people be?” The soldier repeated. “Blessed Mary, mother of Christ, help Wale now”, I prayed silently as a fresh wave of fear enveloped my whole body. I could hear some slight noise from where Okechukwu and Ekene were hiding; I felt they perceived the danger also. “Na me be the driver”, Wale volunteered. “Why you no wan talk since”, the soldier replied in an angry tone. “Sergeant!” “Sir!” “Beat the living daylight out of this bloody civilian”, he ordered. “Yessah!” The sergent replied before pouncing on Wale, his cries were loud and painful. “Abeg o, abeg o, sorry sir….sorry sir….. Oga I dey sorry!!!” Wale cried out as the beating continued. “Where you come from?” They demanded from him. “ Kaduna…. Sir….Kaduna!” Wale replied in pains. “Nyammiri!” The soldier shouted in Hausa alarmed. “I no be Ibo, I no be nyammiri!” Wale denied sharply without hesitation. “Wetin una carry?” Nobody answered. The commander repeated the question, my hairs stood on end; it would just be a matter of minutes I thought. Maybe God wasn't on our side. “Na palm oil we dey carry go Port Harcourt”, Wale replied crying. “Sergeant, search the whole train!” The voice of the commander instructed. At that order, I heard some cries and wails coming from the people inside the coaches who had been quiet since-the soldiers heard the noise too and immediately, their commander ordered them to shoot anybody that tried to escape. The noise and the shouting, mainly coming from the women, increased. The cries of Wale and his friends equally increased as the soldiers beat them more on discovering they were lying. And then, I heard Umaru’s betrayal. “Na Wale say he go carry them go east, na this Yoruba man agree to carry them. Me I no follow for this thing”, he confessed, accusing Wale. The cries that came from Wale following Umaru’s announcement was louder and painful. I started crying but stifled my cries when some gunshots were fired. I heard the box shaking noisily. Nothing really mattered to me again; I gave up hope at that instance as it thought it would not take moments before we would be found. I heard sound of running of boots which increased the tension inside me. “Everybody get down and lie down!” Came the many commands followed by more gunshots. I could not imagine the scene outside: Would they shoot them? Will they kill us? No, maybe they might leave us to continue our journey. So many different thoughts came to my mind. “If you know say you be Ibo, come down from this train!” The voice of the commander said, the gunshots had ceased by now. They kept repeating the order over and over again before I heard the people begin to come out. “Biko nu me nu ebere”, the voice of a woman pleading for mercy was heard. “Abeg make una mercy us, no kill us…. abeg”. The cries and pleadings increased as more people could be heard descending. “Sit down on the ground as you come down”, the soldiers commanded. “Ewoo…. Chukwu nyelu anyi aka..”, One woman prayed. I could hear them very well from where I was and I sat up on the floor of the cubicle listening to the horror happening outside. “Everybody come out!” the stern warning came again. I was scared stiff and didn't know what to do. Okechukwu and Ekene opened the lid of the box they were hiding and peeped at me. I saw the fear and uncertainty in their eyes; I was not crying nor weeping but tears were rolling down my face. They looked at me to know if they should obey the orders. I motioned for them to remain inside and they slowly and quietly covered the lid of the box. It seemed the sudden discovery of the cargo in the coaches shifted all the attention of the soldiers to that place. More sound of shuffling feet of people coming down was heard; I just heard the thud on the ground and the cries of the women as they pleaded for their lives. “Sergeant, search all the coaches”, the commander ordered. I heard the cries of the children among the people, their mothers tried to stop them from crying by covering their mouths so that their cries will not annoy the army men. The search began, but was not thorough as I had imagined; the compartment we were, was not searched; another hand of God. Some moments later, I heard the boots of the soldiers jumping down. The search was over as the sergeant reported to his superior that all was clear and that they truly carried palm oil. “Bring those bloody drivers here”, the commander hollered. “Oya, move idiots”, the soldiers started shouting. “Where did you carry these Ibos from?” The commander asked. Nobody answered him. “You don’t want to talk again?” He threatened. “ Kaduna”, someone supplied, it was unmistakably the voice of Jasper. The interrogation seemed not to finish and was taking a forceful dimension as Wale and the rest were beaten to produce answers. “Where for Kaduna?” “It was the Red Cross Sir”, Wale, who had gotten all the blame naturally, said to defend in defence, “They told me to carry them down to the east on my way to Port Harcourt”. “The Red Cross? That American woman. I will make sure that headquarters hears about this”, the commander said in annoyance. For the next few minutes, all seemed quiet as the officer conversed with his soldiers. They later came back and went to where the people were. “If you know you are Hausa or Yoruba here, raise your hand”, one of the soldiers announced. He repeated the question over and over, as it seemed that nobody raised a hand. The Sergeant then called on the people to stand up, the noise following such activity followed. “I want you people to listen attentively, women go to one side and the men go to the other side of the rail now!” he instructed. As the movements started, the voice of a man shouted, “Ha choro igbagbu anyi”, raising an alarm of the plot to kill them. There was instant pandemonium as some of them took to their heels while the women started shouting in a loud voice. “Stop! Stop!” the Sergeant tried to caution but the Commander, on realizing what was happening, shouted loudly, “Shoot, Shoot the bastards!” At once, the soldiers opened fire on the people. The shots were numerous and thunderous; you could hear the screams of the people as the bullets hit them. The whole atmosphere was charged with gunshots, screams and painful shrills of death. I was shaking all over as the shooting went on and kept calling the name, “Jesus! Jesus Jesus”. The cries and exclamations of the people as the bullets hit them were agonizing and cut through the soul like razor, as the sound of their bones and skulls crushed at the impact. After what seemed like forever, the shooting stopped. Everywhere became quiet; the sound of a child crying was the only sound audible, some few shots fired and it was all quiet. Dead quiet. The whole place smelt of gunpowder and blood. The marching feet of the soldiers resumed. “Check them all and make sure they are dead, search their pockets and collect their money, rings and necklaces”, the Commander ordered. This time there was not the complementary, “Yes Sir”, it looked like the soldiers were watching their handiwork, which I knew, was unpleasant. They started going through the bleeding dead bodies. “You idiots should go and help them”, the commander shouted, “You are lucky I am not in my bad mood today, you would have all be gone by now”. “Yes Sir, Yes Sir”, came the replies of familiar voices. Wale! They survived. I couldn’t control the sudden urge to peep, in order to be sure they were alive. I stood up from my hiding place and tip-toed, out of fear rather than courage, to a small opening in the mechanism of gears and looked. I saw a man dressed in a military uniform holding a lighted cigarette, standing and watching. That would sure be the commander I figured; he was tall and lanky, had a square face with three ugly tribal marks on each cheek and cannot lay a claim to being handsome. His face looked as ruthless as his heart. I then looked ahead, what I saw made me gasp. I saw the soldiers standing on one side while Wale and the rest were going through the pockets of the dead bodies littered on the ground. The bodies were all soaked in blood were dehumanized further as they were stripped of their clothes in order to get to their pants and under wears. A soldier held what looked like a brown bag for collection of whatever was found. Umaru seemed to startle at one of the bodies, he jumped back suddenly and started pointing to the body; the person wasn’t dead yet. One of the soldiers came close, pointed his rifle at the body and shot with a loud bang. I let out a scream. The commander heard my cry and turned suddenly, looking towards the engine. His hand went to his holster and held up his pistol. At once I went back to my hiding position. “Sergeant”, I heard him call. “Yes Sir”, came the reply. “Did you search the engine room?” He asked. “Yes Sir”, the sergeant replied. I waited for more instructions from the devil but none came. I quietly covered myself with the overalls and lay down sobbing. After a long while, I heard one of the soldiers ask his commander. “Sir how are we to dispose of them?” He asked, “Should we load them back for their people to see?” The Commander remained silent. “Sir it is getting dark”, the soldier reminded him. Then the Commander ordered with a devilish voice. “Throw them into the river so that our fishes and vultures can grow fat on their carcass. Bastards!” “Yes Sir”, the soldier saluted and marched off relaying the instruction. “Make una throw them inside the river quick quick”, he called out to the others as he went towards them. For the next hour or so, sounds of the bodies splashing in the river below were heard. A little while later, a truck came along. “Sir, they are here”, the soldier, I suspected to be the sergeant, informed his commander. “Call those drivers for me”, he ordered. The sergeant called Wale and the rest. When they all came, he started talking to them. “You people better not try to save the Ibos again, if I ever catch you again, your bodies will be eaten by vultures. Understand!” He hollered. “Yes Sir”, they chorused. I heard someone retching. “You dey vomit because you carry dead body”, the sergeant taunted him. “This one no get liver, he no go fit be soldier”, one of the soldiers said and they all started laughing. “Do you smoke?” The Commander asked. “Yes Sir”. It was Wale; he was the one throwing up. I recognized his voice. “Here, smoke some cigarette, it will help you get some heart”, the commander offered. The other soldiers kept laughing. Wale muttered his thanks. The Commander then asked his boys how much they got. “₤836, 66 shillings, with many goodies”, he was informed. “Give the driver and his friends ₤50”, he ordered. I heard some movements. “Are you not going to say thank you to Oga?” The sergeant barked, “If it were Major Amin you all will have died”. “Thank you Sir, Thank you Sir!” came the quick response of Wale and friends. “God bless you Sir”, Umaru included. “You better leave at once, the night group are here and you are blocking the bridge”, the Commander said as he marched out. “Sergeant”, He called out. “Yessah!” “Tell the boys to meet me at the mess by ten, so we can have some beer”. “Yessah”. The message was passed to the soldiers who started cheering their commander. They entered the truck that dropped the new group of soldiers and started heading out, to the barracks I believe, to meet their families and maybe to the mess later in the evening, to have some beer and drink to the success of yet another killing of some bloody bastards. When the Commander and his platoon left, the new set of soldiers that replaced them came to Wale and urged them to start moving before their commander comes. “I know he will not hesitate to lock all of you if he finds out you helped nyammiris”, they said. “Bros, the thing wey my eyes see today, I no go fit forget am for life”, Wale complained to soldiers who appeared not so aggressive. “Na so e be for Makurdi since wey this coup thing happen”, one of the soldiers told them, “Please you people should start going before Major Amin comes”, he advised. At the mention of the name, Wale and the others hurriedly started moving into the train; Amin was probably the man whose ruthlessness was mentioned by the departed soldiers. They all scrambled into the engine room and Wale started the train. He did not sound any departure horn as the rumbling echoes again indicated we were leaving the bridge. After a few minutes passed, I heard someone sobbing inside the engine room. “Dede, its okay it was nobody’s fault”, I heard Jasper console him. Immediately he said that, Wale shouted at him to shut up. “Wetin that one mean?” Jasper queried. “You don’t have any right to say that, you fool, na you be the person wey tell them say I day carry Ibos. Stupid idiot!” Wale was visibly angry. “Get out”, came the reply from Jasper, “No be you carry them before”, he retorted. “Jasper, no annoy me or else I go leave this train come deal with you now now!” Wale warned. “You no fit do anything, you collect money from Oyibo woman finish come lie say you carry letter. You never tell us the truth finish”, Jasper accused him. Instantly there was commotion inside there. “Wale you go kill us, go drive your train, leave this man!” Dede shouted, trying to separate them. The noise continued with their different voices shouting curses and the sounds of crashes everywhere. I was not sure what to do, the train was still in motion and both Okechukwu and Ekene’s heads were out looking at me in uncertainty. The door of the cubicle suddenly flew open and Wale and Jasper crashed in. Umaru and Dede followed them, trying to separate them. They were throwing punches on themselves sluggishly. The sight of Okechukwu and Ekene inside the box startled them. “Na here una hide?” Dede asked still trying to separate the fighters. Wale let go of Jasper, who was lying below him on the floor bleeding from the mouth. “Don’t ever try me in your life”, he threatened, breathing heavily. After they had left themselves, Jasper started pouring out serious threats. “Okay, you go see. Na fight you wan fight. I go show you say na Tiv man I be”, “You no go fit do anything”, Wale told him. “Wait make we reach Otukpo, I go make sure say they go kill you join these Ibos”, Jasper replied then left the room. Dede followed him, trying to calm his temper. For the few moments they were inside the cubicle, I observed that their clothes were stained with blood from the bodies they helped dispose of. Jasper’s threat was real scary; he mentioned Otukpo I remembered. I could still hear Dede trying to calm him down gently but he kept flaring up and raising his voice. “What about Umaru, he no follow talk say na him carry Ibos?” Jasper asked angrily, “Why e be say na me he see fight?” The train then jerked and started slowing down. I could not hear any noise until the train stopped. Wale then spoke up. “Since Jasper don make up im mind say he go kill these children and me, I suggest say e go better make everybody go im own way”, Wale said. “Haba! Wetin dat one mean?” Dede asked. “How you wan leave us this night for Makurdi say make we find our way?” Umaru asked. “I don talk am be that”, Wale replied adamantly, “I no need una help again for my train. I go settle everybody im money now!” “Abeg give me my money now, nonsense!” Jasper retorted abusively, “After all wetin I dey gain from you sef?” “Wale abeg cool down. I no say you dey vex”, Dede said, trying to make him reconsider his decision. “Why you dey beg am, leave am make e go”, Jasper shouted at Dede, he was very angry, “And make you bring that ₤50 join our money o”, He reminded. “You fit take the money, I no need any blood money”, Wale replied. He opened the cubicle door again and made for a small box hidden at a corner that served as his safe. He opened it and counted some money then locked it again before leaving the room. “Oya see una money; Jasper, ₤16; Umaru; ₤16 and Dede, ₤16”, he kept saying as he distributed their money amongst them. They counted their money to be sure it was exact. “The ₤50 nko?” Umaru asked, he had been silent all the while. “No be una money? No be me dey with the money”, Wale replied. “See am here”, Dede offered. “You no want follow share this one?” Jasper asked him. “I no want”, he replied. “Leave am, no be Yoruba im be too?” Umaru retorted. “Make una collect una things wey dey here abeg”, Wale told them. Umaru and Jasper came into the cubicle looking angry and murmuring to themselves. They collected their belongings and left without looking at us. I heard them descending the stairs. “Where you wan go now?” Umaru asked Jasper. “No be Tiv man I be, na we get the land, follow mw make we enter Wadata”, Jasper replied. We kept listening to their footsteps fade into the night. After they left, Dede said to Wale, “You for no sack them like that”. “I blame you, na because say no be you be the driver wey those soldiers beat and no be you fight Jasper”, Wale replied him. “Wetin we go do now? Dede asked, “You no say Jasper dey vex”. “I get plan myself, I know person for Makurdi.” He started the train and rode on farther away fro the spot before stopping and waited for some hours to kill time.
(Excerpts from the yet-to-be-published novel, A Season of the Sun by Ahaoma Kanu)
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