I woke up 3 days after on a strange bed in a mysterious dark hut.
“Please where am I?”
I asked myself after which I coughed. I was so weak; I wondered what happened to me, like my brain was reset to factory setting.
A small fire was lit by a corner of the hut which gave me warmth and light. I was even wrapped in a blanket, surprising. “oh Christ, what is going on?” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my left knee when I tried moving only to discover it was bandaged. In my awe, the door opened and two strange women in palm fronds kinda clothing stepped in. they looked like a certain tribe I couldn’t actually remember. They spoke some language I couldn’t understand. But from the gesture, I FIGURED OUT they were glad I was still alive. They left.
What had happened to me? I sat by the corner of the bed and tried to reason what was going on. Gradually…I began to regain consciousness
. ******
A hunter was trying to gun down the big hawk on the tree I hung myself but missed target and shot my knee. Probably he brought me to his house to battle for my survival.
I was surprised to see the hunter come in with a book; even with a ballpoint pen to be precise, I’m sure you’ll be like ‘What? He’s even learned, astonishing’. What popped me was that he could speak English. “Young man, what prompted you to attempting suicide?”
MY LIFE STORY STARTED
“I’m Chuka Okoli Uzor, life they say has its good, bad and ugly sides, but I’ve never tasted the good. It’s been filled with gloom and bad luck. I’m exaggerating right? Let me finish my tale and you would know I was making an understatement.
"Papa died when I was barely 5. On this fateful day, papa came back from work and crashed on the arm chair in the living room. I also came back from school simultaneously and just as I was barely pulling off my uniform, I heard papa “Chuka Chuka” I had to quickly rush for the living room cos I knew the consequences of not answering papa on time. “Take this N50 go get me bread from mama Chibuzor, I’m very hungry, do quick and two minutes”!
I collected the money and returned to my room to change my clothes. In few minutes I forgot I was sent an errand, busy playing the scrabble Bode my school-mate gave me. I was also juggling the two unripe mangoes Mazi Uche gave me on my way back from school till I heard papa’s roar from the living room. 'MY GOD'!! I rushed into mama’s room and so fortunately for me, I saw a piece of bread mama brought last night, so luckily she never opened it. Little did I know that it was the bread mama poisoned to kill the numerous rats in our hut. I rushed into the sitting room.
"Papa, I’m sorry, I had been back since I was in my room, here is your bread’’. I gave the bread to papa and what you expected happened!
From that day henceforth I was regarded to be a demonic child sent from the pit of hell to trouble my family. I lost friends, relatives and people. They feared I would also kill them with my misfortune.
But I never lost mama. She stood by me and believed I still had something in me to offer the world. Was she right? Let’s see.
I was promoted to jss2 at the age of 11 at the Mahadum. Mahadum was the most respected public school in our village. It had very large compounds, black chalkboards and other many other primitive facilities the villagers treasure their whole lives. Every day, you would see pupils carry their wooden slabs on which they write. The male teachers wore short sleeves, suspenders, short knickers on long socks and a long old fashioned shoe. And as you expect the village headmaster always had an exaggeration of everything. His rickety bicycle got the attention of everyone in town because that was the latest technology. I considered him to be very mean and wicked because he usually stands at the school gate as early as 6:00am to flog hell out of late-comers. If you come any time after 6.30 you would spend the day working at the farm behind his house, weeding tirelessly while your mates are inside classroom.I fell victim of my headmaster one Wednesday morning. Although I came to s
Mama had no choice but to take me to Oga Sule the cobbler to learn the art of shoemaking. Since I was expelled from the only means of education at Shagbo, I just had to be up to something other than education that’s if I still had anything reasonable I wanted to do with my life.Oga Sule as he was fondly called was also known as Dr shoe. This was because he was highly recognized to be expertise with any form of footwear. He boasted he had a PhD in shoemaking from the University of oxford UK. He was tall, dark-skinned and handsome. And seemed his shoemaking profession has gotten him heights of good fortune. he had a very big shop at the centre of the Shagbo market where lots of apprentices and workers learnt from him. He was regarded to be the most successful in shagbo market and he was given a chieftaincy title. I’ve heard somewhere that Oga Sule can no longer perform his duty as a man. That is he cannot procreate, but he was fortunate to have given birth to a bou
After series of meetings between my mother and brothers, they agreed the only place that suits me is an environment of God. Maybe somewhere spiritual enough to chase off the demons of badluck leading me to constant misfortune. It wasn't like they loved or wanted good out of me, they were actually scared they would be the next victims of my escapades and it was really dangerous living with them. I had two options, either to go to the only catholic convent in Shagbo or convert, become a Muslim and live with the cleric in the mosque a stone throw to my house. I didn’t embrace the conversion idea, going to the convent wasn’t an idea I really loved either. Now I go dey live with dem reverend father, catholic priests and nuns in a very weird lifestyle. Most importantly I would miss my home, my beautiful mother and my fun-to-be-with brothers but, e be things!I really didn’t like it at the convent, most especially my first day there. They did receive me in warm arm
“Iron sharpeneth iron so a man sharpeneth his friend’s countenance” , but I was daft. Why on earth would I be in a friendship where we both had our individual problems? Not ordinary problems, issues!!!The most Reverend father of the diocese had a public image of being the holiest man on earth. He was worshiped and his feet were kissed daily. He was regarded as the son of God by the gullible people of Shagbo. After Sunday service, people queued in front of the parish office. One by one, they entered to meet ‘HIS MOST HIGH’ to confess their sins. ‘Father forgive me’ they took turns to say this statement. I obviously had no choice but to join the ‘geng’. That expanded my capacity to engage in sinful activities, since I could just go to the parish office every Sunday and be forgiven. Even in my sins, I still had good morals and virtues. I learnt a lot from mama and I heard her imaginary voice cautioning me whenever I wanted t
It shone bright in the hot afternoon at Shagbo and its environs. The hot winds of the harmattan made sure it dried up mucus or any form of lubrication from every nostril, leaving it dried up. This made the owner wear a frowny look. How about the intensity of its sunshine? It struck every head. The ‘head owner’ must either find a shade or be ready to groan in the agony of migraines or frequent headaches.The nights were cold as anything else. Touch the great Shagbo River at night, it’s warm. Warm enough to prepare hot tea in the cold nights. Land and sea breeze was a recognized practical example of convection currents in nature.The five-boy band was seen at their usual hideout; the bush. It was surrounded with large chumps of rocks, scattered trees and little shrubs. This was the cool atmosphere they considered as a place that helps them get inspiration during rehearsals. They were very popular and cos of it
I was told the Vicar was terribly sick of a cardiovascular disease the doctor called Myocardial Infarction (Heart attack). He had been rushed to the state hospital some days ago. We both decided to go pay Vicar a visit on his sick bed. Sandra and I had become close friends. Oh, you thought I didn't tell her about my clowny misfortunes? I did! You wouldn't believe it, after telling her, her love for me doubled. She became curious to know me more. An irony isn't it? We became close.We both set out to the intensive care unit of the state hospital. There we saw the vicar who was always looking hale and hearty looking so pale and sick. The sickness struck him so hard to a point he was demanding 'mercy killing' from the medical personnels. You can imagine. I felt bad seeing the man who loved me so much in such horrible state. Sandra never felt different, sadness was written all over her. He was admitted to WARD 24 where he would wait for a Coronary Bypass Surgery. We both had to s
Nurse Florence wasn't reluctant after she was paid a lump sum of #500,000. She didn't even think twice before accepting the offer. Moreover, Chinua did well in convincing her to give in. Money is indeed the root of evils."He is in ward 24, a fair-skinned guy, wrapped up in a purple blanket, that's him! Inject him with something lethal and take his life without hesitation. Let him go and be singing with the angels in heaven."She smiled, they shook hands afterwards. They had struck a deal!The night was cold, probably cos Shagbo was in its mid-harmmatan season. The mid-night before the dawn of vicar's coronary bypass surgery, vicar was giving some kinda reactions I never liked. He was talking like someone about to kick the bucket, giving some farewell speech, wishing Sandra and I luck in our endeavors in life and all."Vicar, can you please stop all these? You will not die, this surgery will
And so, on and on ,like the osscilation of a pendulum, the disheartening piece of my bio churned while the sands of time dripped slowly and slowly as it watched my narration irks the soul of the spectators. That I thought, but it appeared to be nothing but a blunt lie. It was a revolving piece of gags and laughs. A piece of funny cake, a chunk of interesting cheese, a loaf of an adventurous bread and a real ginger to the spirits of the audience. They applauded.I took a decision to brighten up and go kind of complicated. I hallucinated via traveling through the roads of time to a world of hope. The hope I couldn't give probably my careful friends, you know them. I mean the ones who never fell into the snare of clowny unfortunate mishaps SANDRA, SOLOMON and IK (my fi
The judge yawned, after several minutes of conotating judgement. clerk at alert, witnesses trembled."The second revolutionary law would give non-mortgageable and non-transferable ownership of the land to all tenant and subtenant farmers, lessees, share croppers and squatters who hold parcels of five caballerías of land or less, and the State would indemnify the former owners on the basis of the rental which they would have received for these parcels over a period of ten years.The delegation of Cuba to this assembly, first of all, is pleased to fulfill the agreeable duty of welcoming the addition of three new nations to the important number of those that discuss the problems of the world here. We therefore greet, in the persons of their presidents and prime ministers, the peoples of Zambia, Malawi, and Malta, and express the hope that from the outset these countries will be added to the group of Nonaligned countries that strugg
The never ending law suit continued."This brief explanation has been necessary because it is basic to a consideration to which few people, until now, have paid any attention - soldiers have a deep respect for the feelings of the majority of the people! During the Machado regime, in the same proportion as popular antipathy increased, the loyalty of the Army visibly decreased. This was so true that a group of women almost succeeded in subverting Camp Columbia. But this is proven even more clearly by a recent development. While Grau San Martín's regime was able to preserve its maximum popularity among the people, unscrupulous ex-officers and power-hungry civilians attempted innumerable conspiracies in the Army, although none of them found a following in the rank and file.The March 10th coup took place at the moment when the civil government's prestige had dwindled to its lowest ebb, a circumstance of which Batista and his clique took advantage. Why did th
The honourable judge got a bit angry at what he said. He could'nt hold his calmness." Why such interest in silencing me? Why is every type of argument foregone in order to avoid presenting any target whatsoever against which I might direct my own brief? Is it that they lack any legal, moral or political basis on which to put forth a serious formulation of the question? Are they that afraid of the truth? Do they hope that I, too, will speak for only two minutes and that I will not touch upon the points which have caused certain people sleepless nights since July 26th? Since the prosecutor's petition was restricted to the mere reading of five lines of an article of the Social Defense Code, might they suppose that I too would limit myself to those same lines and circle round them like some slave turning a millstone? I shall by no means accept such a gag, for in this trial there is much more than the freedom of a single individual at stake. Fundamental matters of princ
Having been bound by the law, he stood before the jury. he was banned to speak. However, his lawyer wasn't. he ambled before the deck, ready to defend his client's course."Honorable Judges,Never has a lawyer had to practice his profession under such difficult conditions; never has such a number of overwhelming irregularities been committed against an accused man. In this case, counsel and defendant are one and the same. As attorney he has not even been able to take a look at the indictment. As accused, for the past seventy-six days he has been locked away in solitary confinement, held totally and absolutely incommunicado, in violation of every human and legal right.He who speaks to you hates vanity with all his being, nor are his temperament or frame of mind inclined towards courtroom poses or sensationalism of any kind. If I have had to assume my own defense before this Court it is for two reasons. First, because I have been denied legal aid al
Papa Moses climbed up the pulpit. Humbled in spirit, he began to dish out the contents in his mind."ladies and gentlemen,Today, Sunday, in all parishes of the diocese,who so far have not suffered from war damage themselves, kept the collection I ordered for the residents of the city of Munster. I hope that through the intervention of the responsible state and municipal authorities and through the fraternal help of the Catholics of our diocese, whose donations the Caritas offices will administer and distribute, we will succeed in alleviating many needs.Thank goodness: For several days, new attacks by opponents of the war have not reached our city. But unfortunately I have to say it: The attacks by our opponents in the interior of the country, the beginning of which I discussed last Sunday in St. Lamberti, have been in the last week, regardless of our protests, regardless of the heartache that this causes those affected and prepared for their rel
“Describing an execution of an innocent man scene, how will you be like?” Chairman asked.Everyone expected something funny, it was time to laugh. Laughs.“Okay,I shall be very little heard of anybody here, I shall therefore speak a word unto you here.Indeed I could hold my peace very well, if I did not think that holding my peace would make some men think that I did submit to the guilt as well as to the punishment. But I think it is my duty to God first and to my country for to clear myself both as an honest man and a good King, and a good Christian.I shall begin first with my innocence.In truth I think it not very needful for me to insist long upon this, for all the world knows that I never did begin a War with the two Houses of Parliament. And I call God to witness, to whom I must shortly make an account, that I never did intend for to encroach upon their privileges. They began upon me, it is the Militia they began upon, they confessed that
Ralph burst into an unneccesary laughter when he saw his fellow speaker climb up the stage. Dennis never cared. He began quickly.“Ladies and gentlemen, I have only thirty minutes in which to speak to you this evening, and I, therefore, will not be able to discuss in detail so much as I can write when I have all of the time and space that is allowed me for the subjects, but I will undertake to sketch them very briefly without manuscript or preparation, so that you can understand them so well as I can tell them to you tonight.I contend, my friends, that we have no difficult problem to solve in America, and that is the view of nearly everyone with whom I have discussed the matter here in Washington and elsewhere throughout the United States -- that we have no very difficult problem to solve.It is not the difficulty of the problem which we have; it
"Some years later I returned to Warren. It seemed that the whole population was out for the occasion. I was received with open arms. I was no longer a demagogue; no longer a fanatic or an undesirable citizen. I had become exceedingly respectable simply because the Socialists had increased in numbers and socialism had grown in influence and power. If ever I become entirely respectable I shall be quite sure that I have outlived myself.It is the minorities who have made the history of this world. It is the few who have had the courage to take their places at the front; who have been true enough to themselves to speak the truth that was in them; who have dared oppose the established order of things; who have espoused the cause of the suffering, struggling poor; who have upheld without regard to personal consequences the cause of freedom and righteousness.It is they, the heroic, self-sacrificing few who have made the history of the race and who have pa
RALPH sipped from a mug."Let us review another bit of history. You remember Francis J. Heney, special investigator of the state of California, who was shot down in cold blood in the courtroom in San Francisco. You remember that dastardly crime, do you not? The United Railways, consisting of a lot of plutocrats and highbinders represented by the Chamber of Commerce, absolutely control the city of San Francisco. The city was and is their private reservation. Their will is the supreme law. Take your stand against them and question their authority, and you are doomed. They do not hesitate a moment to plot murder or any other crime to perpetuate their corrupt and enslaving regime. Tom Mooney was the chief representative of the working class they could not control. They own the railways; they control the great industries; they are the industrial masters and the political rulers of the people. From their decision there is no appeal. They are the autocrats of the Pacific coast&mdash