THE ROD AND A CHILD.

I swear I will kill you and give birth to another! How can I lose my mind over a child?

Hear that come out of your mother’s mouth and you immediately realize that she has zero tolerance for insolence and absolutely no chills.  

The scene plays out way back in 1995. I was out playing past my 4:30 pm curfew because time is a bitch when you are having fun. The crazy thing though is that my mother expected me to some how be able to tell when its time to go back home. As a kid, there are only two ways to tell time. Either your stomach reminds you, or darkness starts to blanket the playground. 4:30 is smack in the middle of these two alarms and there was no way of ever getting it right. To be safe, I would always go back to the house at two in the afternoon and waste two and a half hours of my life everyday (Afternoon classes were unheard of ) as other kids played outside. 

One fateful day,  I convinced myself that I could tell the difference between 3:30, 4:00 and 4:30.

I got it horribly wrong, only realizing that I had to go back home when other kids with way cooler mothers, (read dettol mums) started being called home. It was around 6:40 -7:00 pm. The sun had long hidden behind the escarpments and to find a hiding place was the only thing I wanted too.

I trudged back home promising God all manner of things if only mama would be late from work this one time. The distance to the house inexplicably shrank and every forward step seemed to take me closer than I anticipated.

Please God, I swear. . . no I don’t swear because you don’t like it when people swear. I can’t directly promise you either, but I know I will be a good boy forever if you give me a pass this one time. Just this one time. I will never ever steal or lick sugar again.  Are you angry with me because I forgot to pray last night? Is that why you set me up for my mother’s wrath? 

God I know you are a god of mercy, I know you are not vindictive. Please please God, let it pass and I will always pray every another night until I grow up.  I swear . . . no I don’t swear, but I will listen to the Sunday school teacher, I will carry a pencil and book next Sunday. I won’t leave early and from now on I will never watch Conan and Sinbad. I know you hate them because they make me skip Sunday school and that is why you are punishing me now. Dear lord, spare me this cup, (I thought I could soften His heart if I went all Jesus on Him) and I will change my ways.

I think roping in Jesus was the last straw for God. The negotiation ended that very second. My mother appeared from behind the front door of the house. Call it telepathy, sixth sense or whatever, she saw me before I could duck. Her eyes settled on me the second she opened that door, and I knew God’s answer was a firm no. To this day it still holds the record as the fastest answer from God. Not only did He say no, but He was actively against me.  First, ‘GPSing’ to my mum my whereabouts; second, timing exactly when I was walking in too large a space to disappear anywhere.

Mama’s countenance immediately changed from one of deep worry to that of fervent rage. 

-Come here!The ol' lady barked out.

She is now seething, and I imagine froth coming out of the edges of her mouth. Id rather be anywhere else but where she is commanding, but I figure some belated obedience would at least reduce the looming punishment. I approach her cautiously.

-Reti! (Hurry up!) 

I oblige, and she grabs me by my scrawny arms. Her grip is so firm; I think she wants to crash my humerus.

-What time is it? Ah ne in Kanye? (Where were you?)

It is funny how African and Asian parents ask their miscreant kids obvious (often rhetorical) questions at such moments. It raises a slight hope that maybe they have no idea what the hell is going on. That maybe, just maybe, you could get away with a misdemeanor. It is utterly dangerous though; it opens a window for lies, which only infuriates them the more.

I was tempted to lie. I wanted to say that I had just hoped out of the house to return a borrowed pencil. However, I wisely decided against it. I had no idea how long she had been home and I was as dirty as a mole anyway. Silence is the best fence to sit on.

-Dwoka wah! (Answer me then/won’t you?) Where were you? 

This time even more sternly. She grabs a huge chunk of my cheek with her other arm and pinches me so hard I lose all sensitivity in that area.

Now in our house it was especially confusing when a parent interrogated you in two languages. There was this rule: you only answer or speak in the language you are spoken to in. I am in the frying pan, I most definitely don’t wanna jump into the fire now! So what do I do? I start crying.

Crying is always the last ammo. If it doesn’t elicit pity, at least it reduces or numbs the stress in the situation.

-Wek yuak! (Stop crying!)

 It seems to piss her off even the more. I realize to my horror that it is having the exact opposite effect. I can’t stop now and tears start to drench my chicks. She starts pulling me into the house and I know that there are truck loads of problems in Houston. I start wailing, and she pulls me in even faster, legs kicking the other arm flailing.

I am dragged  past the house help standing at the kitchen door, into the living room. I am slightly embarrassed to be crying out so loud in front of her. I notice a grin on her face and realize how much power she has in the house. She is the one who set me up.

“That witch set me up.” I wise up to the fact, but I can’t mull over it because I am being pulled fast into mama's bedroom. That is the one room you do not want to be in when she is cross. I am desperate, I can’t go in there. I have circa five or six seconds before we make it through the corridor to the door. My last respite, I confess and start begging to be spared the rod.

That is when she says it.

-I swear I will kill you and give birth to another! How can I lose my mind over a child?

Aware of my impending demise, I get into self preservation mode.

Please don’t kill me, I promise promise . . . aki don’t even consider me as your child, I will slave for you, I will not even call you mum, please just don’t kill me! Ill do anything you want madam.

It worked. She stopped pulling me and turned back to look at her load. Her eyes fiery, but with a slight hint of disbelief at what she had just heard. For a very brief while she stood there still, my upper arm still firmly in her clutch. She was contemplating something.

Wailing subsided into sobs. Sobs trigger mucus; mucus mixed with tears doesn’t feel okay on the face. So I used my free arm to try and wipe it out. Her peripheral caught the moving arm and she must have thought I was trying to wriggle myself free. 

She grabbed even tighter and said . . .

-Hapana, sitakuchapa.  Hii shetani ndio lazima tujaribu kutoa ndani yako.

I finally made it to the bedroom, where she kept a small rubber whip. With her left arm she held me and with her right lashed me repeatedly until I couldn’t cry anymore. 

Then she let go.

-Nenda ukaoge. Tena na maji baridi, auntie alikuchemshia maji hukutaka. Then go straight to bed, no supper for you today.

I was only too happy to leave her presence. I did not care about the cold bath (cause the shower was for adults only) or supper.

I just remembered that night because a friend of mine called crying on the phone because her nine y. o is ‘stressing’ her out.

-Kiboko kidogo haitakaua.

That was the only thing (and frankly cheapest and most effective way) I could think of.

-Woiye, na akiturn out disturbed akiwa mkubwa?

I just laughed.

DREAMS DO COME TRUE

I love my wife. This should be the norm, but it is surprising just how many of my friends loathe their wives. To be fair to them, it takes quite some feet to live day in day out with another human being considering they are in possession of all their faculties and have the ability to make independent decisions half of which may not fly with you. It is a world of a 99 compromises, and losing your peace is not one of them.

My wife, like many other wives, makes her own independent decisions. It is a good thing, though sometimes I wish we were like literally one thing and our interests are so in sync that whatever decision she makes big or small will please me. Like when I want to get myself a Rottweiler, she would just go along with the idea. She would find me extremely thoughtful and a maverick in my own small ways. Or better yet, she would graciously exile herself when I want to call my buddies over and spend the whole day playing wager FIFA. Selfish huh! Anyway it is the real world and beggars do not ride horses.

Some good news though, I have been reading them inspirational books, and I came across this one statement that really hit a cord with me. This author (can’t remember the name) was of the opinion that life is not what happens to you, but how you react to situations (the happenings). Not that I am complaining about life or my marriage. By any measure it is a blissful one. Yeah I am living those happily ever after kind of marriages. But this statement got me thinking I could make things even better. Talk of trying to fix it when it aint broke!

So I decided I’m going to react in the best possible way to my wife’s independence. Instead of having her conform to my every whim, I’m gonna try and figure out how the marriage has changed her, the little nuances. I’m going to figure out what tickles her fancy now that she is older, and a little different (in a nice way)from the all-out frisky, free spirit I was dating.

I start working on my new resolve with the zeal of a KANU era sycophant. I want this to be special; I want whatever I come up with to be a surprise. However there is only one small problem with this approach, the lady of the house knows me like the back . . .  urg! She really knows me, which is a little unnerving, but hey. Nothing I do for her has the desired effect I really want, and I can tell it from the faked delight. I would like to believe it is the only thing she fakes.  In short ananioenea eighteen nikikuja. It is week 27 and I am starting to lose the morale.

One night, I’ve just entered the master from the bathroom. I started brushing before going to bed ever since I got married for reasons so banal I’m not going to highlight on this forum. She is already in bed, the TV remote controller in her hand. Some women’s talk show is on and she barely notices me disrobing. Lucky for her she got a hubby who can sleep through an earthquake, so the late night shows have never been an issue.

I am drifting off to slumber land when I hear the show host declaring that every girl, she insists on the “every” part quite passionately. My attention is piqued. Every girl would absolutely love to have a gay man friend. Yeah that is what she said! I have no idea why search a person is a must have, but all these images of those flaccid TV characters with squeaky voices and brightly dressed came to mind. Why do they always have them nerdy glasses? I did not think much of the comment, but it being my last thought; it naturally made its way into my dreams.

I saw my wife. She was with a man; she seemed to thoroughly enjoy his presence. The dream was fleeting but I can remember the background was a boutique. Or was it a shoe shop? What I am sure of the gel on the man’s hair would put J Koinange’s to shame. He wore red cropped pants and was seemingly allergic to dirt. What got me though, is that the missus absolutely loved everything he picked for her in that store. She never likes anything I suggest; it is always too . . . something.

You think, I would hate this guy or at least feel jealous? Isn’t it only natural? But I can’t. He is only a man in my dreams. If anything I should be ashamed of myself. Why is a gay man in my dreams? Does that make him the man of my dreams? Am I (even minutely) gay? Why am I not pleasing my wife in my own damn dream? So I force myself to like this guy. It makes me feel good about myself. In any case, he was doing something akin to magic, albeit in a dream. Being in a variety store, and making my wife decide without much of a hassle. That is reason enough to like this guy if you have ever been in a variety store of any sort with babe.

So the entire morning I am at the office, mulling over this dream. I am going all Nebuchadnezzar over the “wonderings” of my mind the previous night. I do not have wise men at my disposal or seers so I have to figure this thing out alone. It is 4:30 pm after long hours and little work done (thank god for whoever convinced us that delegation is good), I get my eureka moment. Haile needs a gay man friend. I realize that a man is either nuts, or has swallowed a king size humble pie to entertain such a thought, and way more loose nuts to even contemplate ways of realizing this.

I am a normal man, so I quickly dismiss the idea and go on with my amazing life. Nine days later the thought is still stuck in my mind like a Marilyn Monroe pic. It follows me around like that street urchin who wants “kobore ya mandazi”, and I gently try to tell the inner voice, “aki sina leo bradhe.” The voice simmers for leo and waits for kesho so that it can erupt and nag again the whole day.

Finally I give in after a few days and reach into my pocket for the “kobore”, a fifty bill comes out and I can’t put it back. That is how iffy giving into a crazy idea can be.

You would think finding gay people in Africa is akin to mining, considering how intolerant and prejudiced we are, Lo and behold, all I needed was a quick facebook search. Found twenty groups in my town alone. So I thumb through the various profiles looking for the “most acceptable” among them.

I settle on one, his bio pleases me and the avatar is the most girly of them all. The image on the avi is light skin, and he spots long hair. I am walking on unchartered territory here and there are no defined rules on how to pick them. So I make my own and blend them with my inner manly compass. Wait a minute . . . what the! What pleases me the most his bio says that he is seven years older than me. I don’t quite believe it because his pictures make him my age mate. If there is any truth to it, then he is eleven more than Haile. If there were any rules for doing this, I bet my heart that this would be the cardinal one.

Anyways a man has to do what he has to do, and I am swallowing my frog in the morning.  I reach out to him. He is a little apprehensive at first, good thing I wrote on his wall and did not inbox him. A “social media expert” once told me it creates a subtle image of “openness” and “goodwill”.

There are many details, but the short of it is that we somehow hit it off. He turns out to be an amazing guy. I develop an honest liking for him, and I want to hang out with him more than with my traditional friends. Weeks into the new “relationship”, I am having second thoughts about “gifting” him to my wife. Childish heh! But I am who I am.

By some amazing grace I overcome my selfishness, and take it to the next level. No more meeting at the golf course or during the game or anywhere away from home. I take him home. It was a rained down Friday when we first went to my house. I sensed a chill in him for Haile, but wifey was her usual bubbly self.  Too eager to play wonderful host she did not notice.

I kind of . . . no, I REALLY liked the fact that he was more fond of me than Haile. Finally I was above her in this area. Everybody loves the wife wherever there are visitors around. My parent, her parent, my friends, her friends, neighbours, the neighbours kids even Jehovah’s witnesses. Now it was my turn and I was going to savour every jiffy.

Evil conniving Haile however always has an ace up her sleeve. Her bewitching charm. By the time the evening is over, the lad had opened up to her, and they had struck some form of rapport.

“I really like Prexidious,” she quipped when the taxi peeled away taking our new friend back to his place. “You really should have more friends like him, akina Mato and Jaymo are absolutely no good.” She declared as she walked up to the house, leaving me behind to close the gate. I followed her back into the house, a feeling of trepidation hanging over my head. What had I just done? What if I changed my mind about this whole experiment, or this Prexidious guy? Would I be stuck with him, because my wife likes him? What if he magically turns straight and takes my wife? What will I say to people? What if? What if? What if? I counted them that night like sheep until mercifully sleep came to my rescue.

Not long after, Haile stole my friend. They were always hanging out and making her smile in ways I could not. It made me happy, and yet apprehensive. Could he possibly replace me? This friendship technically is cheating, I thought. Still I consoled myself; he is for all purposes and intent, a girl. I even entertained the thought of having a three people relationship where the other two were, as far as I am concerned, girls. Just in case things go south in this arrangement, I will be at peace knowing that it was not because of an inadequacy on my part.

All in all, that is how my dream came true and I ended up in a complicated relationship. A year down the line, things were still holding up.

We were in bed, my wife and I, just the two of us hehehe. She was watching those late night talk shows she really loved and I was typing out a story on my laptop. The missus suddenly jabbed my ribs with the point of her elbow so hard, I almost screamed. “Are you trying to kill me woman?” I hissed out through gritted teeth. “I just realised what you did with Prexidious, I surely did not see that coming. Nice move babe.” But do I say, I love my wife.

MPEKETONI.

Nasikia wanadai kulikuwa redline,
Nasikia kuwadai, kwani kuna maisha zina deadline?
Nasikia walicome mtu hamsini, wengine walivuka borderline.
Nasikia huzuni moyoni, walituangamiza ni kama life si divine.

Gova wakaruka wakadai nI siasa.
Wasiasa wakairukia ni ka mchezo wa kudaka.
Wakenya tumekataa, hatutaki tena hu ufala.
Sababu ya ulofa wamelala Kwa kazi, yote wameikwara.


Mi sitafyata na maze masiz na mabro wanago.
Mi sitafyata nikiona wanajaribu kutugawanya.
Mi sitafyata Nikicheki hii hate yote.
Mi sitafyata country yangu ikisahau tulikotoka.

Jameni tuwe wajanja, hivyo tu ndivyo tutaokoka.
Shida zetu hatutazitoroka, pamoja tutaungana kuwashinda.
Ama kweli mnashida, enyi nyi waoga maharamia.
Kunyemelea wasiojihami, waoga nyie katu hamtatushinda.

Haki iwe ngao na mlinzi , tuishi katika uhuru na undugu
Haki iwe ngao na mlinzi , kuisema na kuitenda.
Haki iwe ngao na mlinzi, viongozi kutuendeleza.
Haki iwe ngao na mlinzi, kila siku tuwe na amani.

@elvizbrian.

BOKO HALAL

He was always eyeing the girls all the way from the school, there was no way I was going to let him keep guard over them. Evil was always close to Salim's mind. Instead I chose Obeyi. He was new in the group, new guys always want to prove themselves out here, I could at least trust him on those grounds. I have been in Borno long enough to tell the joyriders from those who would die for the cause, plus everything in between. Naturally Salim was outraged at my decision and took off in a huff.

Slightly over two hours of trekking and konduga was now far behind us but we still had to make it to Kolofata before day break. I did not want to risk a confrontation with the army. The four of us couldn't possibly take on any company and still keep the girls. Obeyi is a rookie and Salim is acting up again. I hate it that Abubakar always pushes him into my team. Perhaps he too was fed up trying to control the schlemiel . I bet if he were not his half brother he would have long killed him.

"Odek, make them walk faster, we haven't got all night we still have to go through Sambisa." I ordered the man who had all twenty-five girls chained one to another. He walked in front of the line one hand clutching the chain's end and tagged them all along. I liked Odek, he always followed orders without question. A giant of a man, his face seemed sculpted and made further torpid by his disproportionately big eyes. People called us extremists but in him I saw a soldier, for some reason the maker saw it right to put him on the wrong side of life. He was an honest man,  capable of empathy. The mighty one always used him as a voice of reason whenever Abubakar was becoming ludicrous.

I have experienced the almighty allow many more sad things to happen but I have long learned not to question him. That is why I am still serving him in this war. I will continue working for him wherever he sends me until he gives me rest and glory in martyrdom.

"Sir, they can't take it any more. We are men of war, they are just little girls!" Odek' s whisper startled me from deep thought. I answered him with a stern look of disapproval. Surprisingly, the beast stood his ground. I did not know how to react to his new found boldness. I felt anger rise in my chest and my first instinct was to shoot him down but I couldn't risk increasing our workload or further scaring the girls. My mind was fast racing on how to honorably deal with the insubordination and  assert my authority over the two and the girls.

The offender came to my rescue himself."Sir,  with all due respect, I humbly request you to allow them an hours rest then we can move on." Odek implored in an even lower tone. "What are you crazy?  " I almost shouted, barely restraining myself. " You do realize in that thick skull of yours that word has already gotten out by now back in Konduga." If the army catches up with us, we will be sitting ducks if we do not get to the forest. I also don't want our sisters in the crossfire. Besides word has it that two girls in Shekau ' s group have died because of snake bites. I can't risk that. " Sir please give me ten minutes and I will find a safe place for them to rest." Odek answered. "Okay then,  but i'm giving you just five, no more than that." I gave in to his request, as he immediately took off. I never minced my words around them so that no one would try to push their luck on me. If the five minutes elapsed with no sign of him, I would personally drive the girls through Sambisa forest and out of the country.

Deep inside I hated that we had to push our sisters so hard. I tried to convince myself that it was the price of doing the lord's  work but a part of me really wished they were infidels. Four and a half minutes passed and I desperately wished Odek would show up. The girls' feet were terribly swollen, we had boots they had sandals. We abducted them during their evening prep time. It's sad that yet another life was so brazenly snuffed out. Salim had needlessly short the watchman by the gate. We could have just tied him up, but Salim has always been trigger happy. His wife is still probably expecting the head of the house to come to them in the morning.

Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by the crackling of dried leaves. I quickly rolled into the shadows, glad that the girls were further behind with the rookie. I would take care of the interloper without raising noise. A silhouette started rising along a clearing that opened to the other side of the slope. I could tell it was a man, as he drew closer I realized that he had an AK 47 strapped around his chest. This was bigger fish than I expected in these parts at this time. I quickly drew my Glock and steadied my breathing.

He walked casually towards where I lay hidden and I was going to wait until he was at point blank range. I removed the safety, and felt my index curl around the trigger.  "C 'mon. mate."  I whispered to myself as I took aim. A gust of wind blew when I was just about to open up the man's brains.  The trees just in front of him swayed ever so slightly allowing the moonlight to illuminate his face. It was that imbecile Salim. The belligerent fool had finally decided to come back. I immediately jumped up and grabbed him. "what in the lord's name are you doing?  I almost killed you, where is your jacket? " I asked the dumb founded man who couldn't believe his own ineptness being caught so unawares.

"I forgot it, where I had gone to pray.." He dismissed me as he headed on to where he had correctly guessed the girls and Obeyi were. Odek immediately appeared behind me panting and out of breath. "Sir,  I have found a safe place." He gasped.   " Okay then, take them there." I told him twice relieved and too unconcerned to ask any more questions or follow any further due diligence.

Odek had found a well hidden cave, yet big enough for all of us. What impressed me the most was its strategic position. Raised high we could see any signs of hostiles well in advance. Good for fighting but also had a nice escape route behind it. I lay my head on a piece of rock as Odek came and rested his huge frame on the adjacent wall. The petrified girls clustered in the furthest corner as Salim and Obeyi kept watch.

"Abdul from Shekau' s group just called. " Odek informed me. I did not look at him, but he knew he had my full attention. I was dying to know what had transpired in Chibok. " They have taken over two hundred girls from Chibok girls boarding." He continued. I was shoked by the number the boss had taken as slaves. But ever since Shekau  had so daringly orchestrated an attack on army barracks, I never put anything beyond him. " I have heard that he has started marrying them off to the men for 2000 Naira. " I couldn't. believe my ears, that was not Boko stood for, had he gone crazy? We. were servants of the lord, not some immoral pimps. I felt so much anger, I immediately stood up, took the phone from Odek. and called Abdul myself.

"Abdul my brother what is this shenanigans I hear is going on over there? I queried him, hoping that he would contradict Odek.  He did not. instead he said, "sir, I believe our brother has now completely lost it." "What's the matter?" I barked out, my anger getting the better of me. " I think we have bitten off more than we can chew this time. " A meek voice came through my earpiece. "You coward, tell me exactly what has happened down there right now!" " Well,  our act has attracted the world's attention which is good, but Shekau blew it all away by discrediting us. He declared that he will sell the girls across the border. The video is already on the internet. We have now been split into four groups and we are headed across the border. Word has it that the government may accept help from outside in the . . ."Before he could finish, I heard screams coming from the girl's quarters. I dropped the phone and rushed to the other side of the cave, Odek in tow.

I found Salim had grabbed one of the girls. "what in the Lord's name is happening here Salim? " I shouted at him, my mind still processing the enormity of the information Abdallah had just given me. Salim just gazed at me sheepishly and the rookie stayed rooted to his spot, terror well evident all over his face. His palms got so wet, his rifle slid from his grasp. I watched in dismay as he clumsily tried to pick it up. "Well someone had better tell me what the Jehanam is going on here before heads start rolling in this mother."

The girl shook herself free and scurried. to where the rest were. They were all sobbing by now and all that noise just worked to cloud my judgment. I took my gun and stuck it in Obeyi's ribs. " I'm going to ask one more time,  my patience is running out here and I need it for other things you useless piece of rubbish. " Obeyi caved "sir, Salim tried to force himself on that girl, I tried to stop him but.  . ." I did not want to hear the rest. I fired everything in my belt. The two men turned their faces away, the girls screamed endlessly as blood splattered everywhere. It lasted around half a minute and pieces of Salim's. flesh lay strewn around where he first fell.

I wiped blood off my face,  the girls stopped screaming, the boys avoided eye contact and I went back to my piece of rock. I bet someone out there must have heard the gunfire. The local police should arrive any minute but I did not care. Obeyi and Oduk could desert for all I cared, but I was tired of the hypocrisy. I had lived by the gun since I was twelve,  and I never doubted even once that it was my sole ticket out of this world. I regret though that my legacy may not be as honorable  as I had envisaged when I ditched western education to join the rebels

EASICH SIEGE

Damn it happened again. Some dimwits have yet again resorted to violence and the murder of innocents to push an agenda they claim is ours. The lady reading the news bulletin wore a sombre face. It was her job and she did it well, I wonder whether she sympathises with we the unseen seen victims who will most definitely be sacked into this storm.

Every evening I quickly switch through the news headlines in all networks desperately hoping and praying that one more day passes without an incident. The last time was not particularly good. All the media outlets were awash with the news.Some deranged souls entered a house of prayer armed with semi automatic weapons and indiscriminately opened fire on innocents, women and children included.

I crossed my fingers and waited for the next part. "Please Lord, let them not be from my community. please please" I pleaded with my god. The last two words came out as more of whispers instead of a silent prayer. Everyone turned towards me. Everyone in the living room was stone cold, mute and fixated on the small television screen. "Oma, can't you see we are trying to listen to the news here, or would you rather read it to us? foolish child!" My Father shouted at me as he turned back towards the television set.

I did not answer him nor try to justify myself. I knew better.The ongoing insecurity in the country had worked him up too. His words came from a fearful and frustrated soul. Quite understandable because he was a moderate.Everyone in the house was tensed. I could see it in my mother's face, feel it from my younger brother. The house help could mot take it anymore and she left in a hurry.

Once again the people who claimed responsibility were from my community. This time they even left a video recording promising even more blood letting in the future.I just felt my heart sink. I was tempted to be angry at god to ask him why. Why would he allow so few people to cause so much pain across the board? Then I remembered the writings about god's infinite wisdom. I kept my peace having faith that all of it would work out for the greater good here and in the next life.

That attack was the last straw. The security agencies all descended on our neighborhood. They were everywhere looking for possible hostiles, radicalization centers and illegal aliens.They searched everywhere door to door. Nine officers forced their way into our tiny abode. They could barely fit in but they insisted on everyone entering the house. Two female officers went to the corner where we prepared our meals and took everything out of its place. The utensils were left on the floor, the flour had been poured all over the table,sugar container was left open next to the paraffin bottle. Everything was a mess as they moved on to check the sofa and feel through each cushion. Others went into my parents bedroom and. searched it through.

I felt embarrassed,helpless and a tad bit angry. How could they do this to all of us?  An officer emerged from our bedroom and asked me for my identification card. I could feel every single strand of hair on my body stand up in his presence. I was so scared I almost wet my pants. Wherever I placed that damned card was the last thing I could remember even if I tried. I rarely used it because it brought me more trouble than opportunities.The one time I needed that little piece of card more than ever,  I could not find it. I made feeble attempts to try and locate it but I knew that wouldn't happen. The whole house had been turned upside down when an entire station showed up at the front door.

The least patient among them ordered in a heavy tribal accent that I be escorted to the awaiting Landrover.  I can't remember being more scared. I had spent my entire life in this country. In fact I had never gone past my county but now I was being suspected of being an alien or whatever they would decide to charge me with should matters go south.

My mother followed the officers behind tears in her tired eyes pleading with the officers not to take me away, but they were under orders. My father was pacing up and down the verandah making frantic calls and absolutely livid, but he too could only do so much. I am now writing this article from a stadium with hundreds more people from my community and a few others who are not. We are all waiting to be screened in order to be released.

All I want is to go home now. I can no longer bare the cold nights and I'm worried for my family. I am tired, frustrated and hungry. They will not let anyone in and we have not taken a bath nor eaten for two days. If you get this letter out there, please send us some food.

POACHER'S NIGHT

Every night I said The Lord's prayer before I went to sleep. I never quite got used to it, had to remind myself to do it all the time. Whether it was in the bush, a hotel or any of my homes, I did it without fail. It kept me sane in all this madness, I doubt God cared to listen though, but I prayed non the less.

My mother always took me to church, I learned a lot about God and His son. I liked his son a lot. At least the son felt what it is like to be in this body and exist in this trouble sink. Somethings did not make much sense to me but I obeyed for mama 's sake.

She wanted me to be a good boy, grow up to be a descent gentleman. In all fairness, I gave it my best shot. I tried so hard to be the perfect poster boy. I went to church twice a week, got accepted into the alter service. Scored straight As, enlisted as a reservist and graduated top of my class. I even joined a college and got a job, a decent salary and a wife. May mama's soul rest in peace, she knows  I tried.

 

For twenty four years my spirit battled my will. The real Lenno versus the fake Lenno curved out by everyone's expectations. I hated myself, I hated society but never my mother. Or maybe I hated her too. I had suppressed so many feelings for so long I had grown numb to many. All I knew is that I was two men in one body. One was wild and free, the other was guarded and cautious. The wild Lenno lost so many battles in the past but he always spoiled for a fight. The fight to take over my soul.

I guess that is how I became so out of touch. I have practically stood up my wife for a dinner date to go be with murderers. I doubt my old lady would be so pleased.

"Why are you so pensive? " That ever happy voice jolted me back to the chopper."  Was just thinking about my mum Ricky"I answered as I slouched back on the bench. "Seems Lenno wants to suckle some more guys."The funny man did what he did best. Just like all the previous instances he surely did not disappoint as he stuck his thumb in his mouth and made a baby face. The entire group burst out in laughter. We all knew we needed it and that is perhaps one of the main reasons everyone always wanted him to come along in these night missions.

The speaker a top suddenly crackled to life. "Boys, 30 seconds from ground zero, count down to ETA begins. Everyone get ready for the drop ". Khamali's all too familiar voice instructed in a heavy Arab accent. He always flew us whenever the boss needed us to go. A fine man, very dependable. He knew and understood all the ranges and parks in all the countries in the entire south-eastern block. The rivers, the distribution of fauna, security protocols and pretty much everything one would need to know in this business, however the most important was his knowledge of open areas the rangers did not have enough resources to patrol at such times. This single thing ensured he got fatter cheques than his peers in the airlines and army. I guess that was the reason we were flying at low altitude in total darkness.  I put on my night vision goggles and prepared to jump out of an airplane into the dense forest with a bunch of men who would not hesitate to shoot me down if one thing went slightly wrong. It is greed, such a strong driver, only love and fear could conquer it.

I grabbed my new suppressed and scoped Noveske, strapped a honey badger on my vest just in case things got nasty, and hid a desert eagle in my boots. You never know when double crossers will decide to cash in. My webbing and medivac intact, I strapped the chute together with the other three and jumped towards our price.

In Meribah park there were around 200 elephants and 90 rhinoceros carrying million dollar tasks and horns about. We were in on a 19 billion dollar business and I was not late in grabbing a piece of it. If that vet had properly tagged the rhinos in the morning check up, then I was in for a $190000 pay day.  That translates to slightly over 7.7 million for a one hour operation.

Thanks to the Vietnamese, my money was growing like mould on bread. I never would have made this much running guns for those stupid Jihadists and most definitely not as an engineer in the service. Nice change of "careers" . For some reason I do not care to know why the pea-eyed people from the far east were willing to pay more than the price of Gold for the same weight in elephant ivory and twice as much for an ounce of rhino horn. With that much money, there was no way I was going to leave all this milk and honey to some two bit AK 47 carrying poachers.

They would instead be the perfect decoys for the fodder hungry media when we set up a full operation. I am going to take over the entire demand chain. Besides running guns and trafficking cocaine wasn't that much fun any more. The senior administrators are cheaper in this business, the logistics simpler and turfs are less crowded.

This was the real me. Nothing felt better than making millions when everyone else was asleep and blissfully ignorant of the impending total wipe out of national treasures. I did not care, money tasted better than loyalty. My mother must be disappointed but I was in too deep. Only death could suck me out of this damned miasma. I am a born criminal.

As soon as we touched the ground, our trackers picked up signals from the chips shot into the Elephants earlier in the morning. They were exactly where Khamali guessed they would be, all gathered for the night. The Rhino tags bleeped on our screens far more separated because they were loners but that would not deter me. I am the real King of the jungle.

The moon was casting our shadows so far ahead of us. That would warn anyone else of our approach and expose us to an ambush. I hence ordered the men to crouch the whole two kilometers to where our nearest targets were.This was a business and a war at the same time. The Shabab had gotten in after their revenue streams had been dismantled by the army. They were a bunch of whimps and no match for my fire power but you do not want to invite the rangers to the date when all you want is a quicky. In a gun fight, three camps is freaking rally. 

Today would be like last week, and the next like this week only that I will be far richer and way more connected. I like to refer to myself as a hands on grab the rhino by its horns kind of leader. I liked the money and the power but nothing made me more alive than the possibility of an all out gun fight and constantly outwitting the guards and rangers. Once again mama I'm very sorry because all I want is to be more like me and less like everyone else. Deep within me I know my fate will catch up but let me enjoy while it still lasts mama.

We soon made visual, there were eight of them herded together grazing in the cool of the night to avoid the morning heat. "Bingo !"  Ricky whispered direct into my ears, a wry smile etched in his face. He never was serious about. anything but I liked him. He was smarter than all of us and thanks to his genius we have cheated death several times before. "Boss, do you know one of those fetches no less than $60000? "He queried rhetorically the laser from his gun pointing to one of the elephant tasks. I tried not to think too much about it, I'd rather get the job done first. Later I will think about where to get the new BMW I had promised my wife. She incessantly kept on complaining that the range rover made her look fat.

The other two men opened their bags to prepare the knives we would need to split open the elephant head in order to extract the tusks. Meanwhile Ricky took aim of the ten tonne beast. "Wait a minute! "I shouted to him. A little startled he quickly scoped all the nearby bushes and then turned to me. "What the fuck is it?" "How is Konakova?" I asked a giggle betraying the forced look of concern on my face. " Seriously now? " Ricky rolled back his eyes in utter disapproval of my distraction. " Well if you must know, I'm done with Ukranian girls. When this cheque drops I'm going down to Sambaland. Brasilia!" He exclaimed in utter excitement. His eyes just lit up at the thought and he just couldn't resist grabbing me by my shoulders as he often did.

He again got a hold of his MP7 and steadied himself so he could look through the scope. The silence of the night was abruptly cut short when gun shots rent the air. Almost by reflex I jumped towards Rick shouting at him to duck while making for his head. I was too late, he turned to me, exposing a bloodied chest and his smile still on his face,. Now it looked stupid and I hated it. "Too late bro" He said with that his gun dropped from his hand and blood started flowing out of the corner of his mouth. As life slowly departed his body, anger welled up in me so much I did mot realize there were more incoming shots. All I could think of was "why did you not put on your vest you fool? "

He slouched on me and went. Around me the other two men also lay dead. I suddenly felt a sharp blow right on my sternum and I knew it was lead. It knocked me down and my world went dark.