By Victor Makolo & Joseph Tijani

Illustration by Tayo Oyewolu


It’s quite amazing how time flies mom said to me with a stern look in her eyes that suggested that this was probably the most ‘matter of fact’ things she’s ever had to say to me. Who’d have ever thought I’d wake up one morning only to realise how much of a fine young woman my little girl has grown into she said with tears in her eyes, but it hurts to even think that a young shoulder such as yours could be saddled with such an enormous responsibility as this. This time, I couldn’t help but ask, Mom, What is all this about? I’m lost. Now, she burst into tears and cried out in agony, Ochanya, take care of Junior, he’s all you’ve got now and you’re all he’s got. I’d always be with you sweetheart. She stretched out her hands to touch me, but somehow, the harder she tried, the farther she got from me, the tears that flowed down her cheeks to her neck and blouse became as thick as blood, I felt the urge to run out and grab her, but I was stuck. It was like a wind-like force that kept pushing her farther away until she gently faded into the atmosphere, it was then I realized that what seemed like our kitchen was actually a cemetery, and what seemed like a floor was actually a pool of blood.

Mummy!!! Was the scream that tore through the ambience of my hostel room and struck a ’2-second fear into the hearts of my roommates. O.P (short for Ochanya Peters), na wetin o! others asked, Hope its well o? And some said, Abeg no disturb yourself, Na ordinary dream. But I sat on my bunk motionless and speechless, panting very fast with my mum’s words echoing from the nightmare (or should I say ‘day-mare’ since it was afternoon and we were having our siesta: A ritual I seldom observed) and ringing loud in my mind. Breathe…take a deep breath and exhale slowly My best friend, Tobi, said with her arms wrapped around my shoulder and her left palm moving in sync with her calm and reassuring voice. As hard as I tried, my heart was still pounding and my head aching from the loud voices inside of it.

Ding! Dang!! Ding!!! Dong!!! Came the sonorous sound of the jingled bell. It was really an unusual time to have the bell jingled and some of my roommates wished it wasn’t some form of emergency, that it was just that ‘simpleton’ of a timekeeper mistaking ‘p.m.’ for ‘a.m.’ again simply because he slept and woke up to see a cloudy weather. But for me, the loud noise that came from the jingled bell had a rather adverse effect on me as it helped pacify (rather than aggravate) the clanging I felt in my head by temporarily being the only sound I could hear for a few seconds, I secretly wished the noise of the bell could permanently replace the voice in my head. No longer had that wish been nursed by my thoughts than we heard a really loud explosion.

The whole school was thrown into a state of pandemonium as the second and third explosions went off simultaneously. All we could see from afar off was the thick black smoke rising into the clouds from different directions. Discombobulated too, the teachers tried to quieten the rather excited students, although, they themselves obviously looked restive and even Mrs. Akpan the English teacher couldn’t control her shivering fingers and the profuse sweat coming from her body. Funny enough, I chuckled when she forced out the words: Everybody, calm down, no need for control, everything is under alarm! well, the fact that almighty Mrs. Akpan the Bri-KwaIbom woman, (a title she earned from her being so much of a grammarian and linguistic perfectionist. Bri-KwaIbom is coined from the words- British and AkwaIbom) could make a grammatical blunder of this magnitude only suggested that she was speaking with her tongue in her cheek and everyone should really be worried.

At last, the principal stepped into the hall we were asked to converge in and calmed us down. Through that pin-drop silence that his terrifying presence imposed on everyone, came the words, there is no need whatsoever to be frightened, you hear that noise outside? That is the voice and cry of dissatisfied Nigerians protesting against the tyranny of military dictatorship. That was really convincing considering how fierce, brutal and inhuman the military could be when discharging Oga‘s commands. Little did we know that the whole of Zaria was actually in shambles and that the soldiers were actually saving rather taking lives.

Fatimah the asthmatic fainted while some others peed in their pants when three military trucks drove into the school. Many wondered: could this be it for us? All we want to do is learn, we are not all anti-military regime like our principal. At this point, the Bri-KwaIbom woman was counting her rosary and probably saying her last prayers. By this time, the principal gulped in saliva almost so loudly I could hear the sound even in my imagination, he asked the discipline master to hold fort while he goes out to have a word with the uniformed men. Before he even got out, the soldiers had already taken position round the school, a move which disappointed our initial suspicions as it looked like they were fending off enemies and not killing us. It was now obvious how much of a coward even stone-hearted Mr. Ajibade the principal could be when face to face with the brutal powers that be or so we thought. He summoned up courage and went out to meet one of them that was walking towards the hall. They talked for a while and the principal walked back in and asked the other teachers to confirm if all the students were in the hall. Lo and behold Junior wasn’t there alongside a couple of Form2 boys.

I felt my heart leap into my mouth, my stomach chummed and my tongue could taste the bitter acid of fear on hearing that my brother was not in the hall. How could I not have searched for him? No, how could he not have crossed my mind? Could this be what the dream was all about? I began to gasp for breath, Tobi couldn’t help but burst into tears, and like two village women mourning the demise of a loved one, we looked each other in the eye, ran into each other arms and cried together. The principal and some other teachers set out to look for the missing or M.I.A (missing in attendance) students when two military men voices were heard a mile off. Come here! They said, Your hands where I can see them. After a couple of minutes, I heaved a huge sigh of relief as I saw my brother and three others frog jumping with mango and banana on their heads. I couldn’t not believe I almost got a heart attack over someone that obviously was enjoying himself in the school orchard, what was most annoying was how they could still remain in the orchard despite the sound of successive explosions and gunshots.

Well, the series of slaps to the head and face they received streaming from the military men to our civilian teachers seemed a fair price to pay compared to the 24 strokes and one week of digging penalty that would have awaited them had they been caught on a normal day. It was getting dark gradually and unlike other days, the darker the night got, the sicker we got. I wished I had that kind of Joshua’s powers to command the moon and the sun to stand still over us.

It was a little past seven O’clock when a high ranking officer drove into the school with some infantries. I could literarily see the glow on Tobi’s face when she saw her father in his uniform step out of the van and walked into the hall. After a few words with the principal, Tobi was called out, before she left, I silently begged her to put in a word for me and my brother if daddy was to take her home. After all, I thought, what are family friends for? Okay Tobi said she wriggled her way out of the thick crowd and went to meet her father. Few minutes later we heard Ochanya and David Peter, come out here. We did as we were told and Lt Col Fatunbi drove us all the way to his house in the barracks……………………………to be continued

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