Welcome, Guest: Register On Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / NewStats: 3,190,793 members, 7,941,983 topics. Date: Friday, 06 September 2024 at 05:13 PM |
Nairaland Forum / Entertainment / Literature / THE WAR: I Am Home And You Are Not Here Part 11 (267 Views)
Raising A Monster (part 11) / What Will You Be Remembered For? Part 11 / Ojukwu, The Bringer Of War – I Hated Him For Causing Blood Shed (2) (3) (4)
(1) (Reply)
THE WAR: I Am Home And You Are Not Here Part 11 by Olaiya4(m): 7:39pm On May 25, 2020 |
THE WAR: I am home and you are not here. Part ll I have slept amongst the dead bodies. I smelled nothing but the smell of dead men and women. The sound of a machine gun spooks me in my sleep. Amongst the dead corpse we lit on fire, I saw the face of a young boy covered with blood. That reminded me of my child back home. “Son, if you can see me now, I am weak and my tears are pouring down like a rain” The war leaves nothing behind, it’s like a house on fire. Everything in it. It takes without asking. Why did you have to massacre so many innocence souls? Why did you have to leave them -Homeless -Fatherless -And motherless? When a child cries beside a dead body, my tears stream down, and no matter many streams I make, I can never repay the damage or bring back its mother. I saw her, looking around. Her tiny hands holding a doll tight to her chest. Her eyes strong enough to hold tears but if you look closer you will see that she cried and her tears are dry on her face. My heart leaves me in awe. “Who will take care of them?” Their dreams are stolen from them Schools are flat on the ground, no more education for them Hospitals are full, no medication, for them Farms and shops are destroyed, nothing is left, for them I am fighting for the world where my child will be safe, but what about them? Right there, in the depths of the air polluted with pain I wanted to put my gun down, and go home I wanted to go home so bad. My mind is corrupted and I can’t get these pictures out of my head. I think it’s better to see the dead body of a man next to a gun than a dead body of a child next to a doll. We walked the surveillance to where it is safe and there’s food. A child ran to me, she looked at me with a sad- looking face, “Please don’t leave mommy behind” I asked her, “Where is she?” And then she said that “she’s still sleeping there but she will wake up, please don’t leave her” She pointed me to a dead body, that was about to be thrown into a wheelbarrow and into the fire. I looked at her, she had hopes impregnated in her eyes I picked her up and I started walking. Her legs floated in the air, and we both cried as we ploughed to safety. “Why are we fighting? Why can’t we just talk?” So many times, I asked myself these questions, what are the politicians doing? Why are they not here fighting? We vote for them and our crosses get us nothing in return. Brave men die in vain for their countries. Children are forced to be soldiers Women are raped and killed. Politicians sleep on the bed with warm blankets, while we sleep with pigs. They make money and buy expensive pieces of jewellery. They live long to see their grandchildren. We live half of our lives to be buried with our country flags. Dear president do you know my name? It was 4 am when they pummelled us in our sleep. They were invisible, we didn’t know where they were coming from. We were protecting the people and at the same time shooting what we can’t see. After so many gunshots like a TV game. The dust settled, the air is throng with shrieking. What remained was the dead corpse of men and women and children and soldiers plunged to the ground. I looked for my friend, who I haven’t seen since nightfall. There was no sign of him, I thought of the worse, but accepting that fate, that was not what I wanted to dwell on. I searched and when I found him, he was with wounded limbs and the nurse then told me that he will never walk again. I looked at him, lying there on the bed trying to be strong, he laughed, we laughed and we joked about it but I knew this is the end. He was in great pain. But his spirit was unbreakable During all the laughter, and jokes. H’s eyes were getting smaller and smaller. His voice was getting weaker and weaker On his left pocket, he took out a letter he had written He said he trusts me with it, he told me to give it to his partner when I get home. He told me that, no matter the fate of this war, I must get home to my wife and children and that letter must get to his partner. I looked at the letter, with a sharp pain in my eyes. “My friend, don’t cry, this war is almost over, soon you will go home, you will be with your family,” he said. “No, we will be with our family, we will get there and have a cold beer while watching soccer, we will watch as our children grow old…” the voices outside indulged “What’s going on outside? Where does this noise come from, get your gun ready, maybe they are back” he tried to get up but in that condition, he couldn’t do anything. “Lay back my friend, I will go and investigate, be strong okay? I will come and get you” “Don’t worry about me, I will be fine, the pills the doctor gave me are strong, I feel no pain” I ran outside the tent, outside everyone was dancing and cheering “Does this mean… hey, what’s going on?” “Didn’t you listen to the radio? The war is over” A phantom stir, a pounding heart, news I have always wanted to hear, finally hit my eardrums. My tears went down and I am happy this is all over. I ran back to the tent to tell my friend the good news. But…but he had stopped breathing. His eyes closed and his face is smiling “Stop joking, please wake up” Right there I wished death was a joke and he would wake up and laugh at me. I wished this was all a prank and he would wake up and tell me that he just wanted to see my reaction. But death is an inevitable guest. It held him by his hands and walk with him to the other side. Even though I knew that he was gone I still begged him to wake up, but he was smiling and I was crying, the freedom he spoke of before, he can’t see it now that his life is over. He was 38 years and he had hope for the future, he gave me hope in this war. “Sleep well my friend, I will fulfil your wishes”. My love, I am sure you heard that the war is over, today we are flying back home. My heart is filled with sunshine when I think about you and our child. I can’t wait to be with you. I really miss you. I am coming home, I am coming to be with you. It’s been years since I have seen your face. I can’t wait to see you. I used to see soldiers coming back from war to get all the cheering and stand ovation as a young child. I know my son will be proud of me when he sees me. There is something good waiting and it hurts me that this helicopter is taking forever. If it wasn’t for the delay, by now we would have been with our families. I have seen these men fight in a battle. We fought in the rains, the colds and the hot suns. Look how delighted their faces are. Though we went from hell, now everyone looks happy because it’s all over. The chopper lends its feet inside the ship. Down on the harbour, the media in a distance is flashing their cameras. The large crowd of people are here to welcome us home. Our country flag waves proudly in the air. I am the son of the soil and this opens my heart. In the crowd, I know my family is there shrieking my name. My son is old now, does he look like me? In the blink of an eye, the unexpected happened. Daring men who fought hard in a foreign land watched as the bomb ingurgitate the faces of women and children. The sound of it left us shivering on the ground. The air shattered with black ashes. I twitched my eyes more than I can count. I looked down on the harbour, and my eyes flunked to give me what is left. The frost of blood, startled on the dead harbour. My brain cringed in fear. Someone screamed “it’s a suicide bomb” My heart twitched, twitched, I screamed my lover’s name. The silent was filled with sirens of firefighters magnate to the scene. “What happened?” I jumped into the ocean, swim with tears bearing from my eyes. Legs, shoes and dead faces are all I see as I swim to the harbour Blood like mud. Blood flew like a river. Bodies shaking like a headless chicken, Nothing is left only the ghost of our loved ones I saved people but I couldn’t save my family All is lost and the house is empty The nights are full of war memories. I have no friends. The pictures of my family smiles while looking at me. The frost of nights finds me with a bottle of whiskey. What’s more to life, if all you love is no more? The war is a stalemate, our hearts are no more. PTSD notches us to our death until we are no more. Soon the house will be empty and I will be no more... |
(1) (Reply)
Howling Winds- A Short Fiction / Make Extreme Extra Cash During Lockdown. 07025316167 / The White Storm (play By Aisha Ibrahim) ACT 2
(Go Up)
Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket Links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2024 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 32 |