Dear Peeps
I am starting another story. It is a real life story flavoured with some fictions. Hope you will enjoy it

DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN VICTIMS OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

By Awoleye Dominic

Dom the Don! Front seat booked o...can't wait to begin. Twinnie come o Dom has come with another one@bibie01. Another seat reserved for my Twinie.

crislyn:
Dom the Don! Front seat booked o...can't wait to begin. Twinnie come o Dom has come with another one@bibie01. Another seat reserved for my Twinie.

I'm here bae, thanks for the mention.
Oga Dom, I will follow you whereva yu may go Eagerly waiting for d story to begin..
*occupying my reserved sit, hugs twinie*

Following u bumper to bumper.

Following

Following to the end, ride on boss cos am sure u r goin 2 beat ma imagination.
Pls gv update on Restless, can't stop myself 4m imaging wt be hppn nxt. Tnx

The Boss i dey follow u like twitter!!....

crislyn:
Dom the Don! Front seat booked o...can't wait to begin. Twinnie come o Dom has come with another one@bibie01. Another seat reserved for my Twinie.

Hi Cryslyn! You have won my recharge card for being the first to comment on this new thread. please reach me though my number on my profile. Thank you.

Chapter 1

I am Ojo Makanjuola Stephens, a native of Esa-Odo in Obokun Local Government area of Osun state Nigeria. I am an only child of my Mother; I did not know my Father.
He died when I was two years old. He fell from the palm tree they said. He was a palm wine tapper as well as a drinker. Stories has it that he usually drank half of his wine before getting to the market place, consequently he was always indebted those from whose hands he had collected money in advance. They say he was a good dancer and singer too, especially when he has had his fill of his produce.

Mama refused to remarry, she could not withstand another man that could turn out to be like Papa, and so she buried herself in her petty trading and hair braiding. She sells anything, most especially seasonal farm produce and domestic Animals, if you want to sell your domestic animals, contact my Mum; she knows who wants to buy as long as she gets a commission out of the deal.

I was her life; she lived for me even though she never pampered me. She showed me love and care within her lean resources. Mama would never borrow a Pin from anybody, she taught me contentment, her favorite watch word to me was “Remember the Son of whom you are”
She taught me to stand my ground in the presence of bullies, she told me never to weep when my mates try to cheat me or oppress me.

Whenever I got into a fight with my mate and I was over powered I wipe my tears before getting home while I concoct plan for a rematch. I can fight with a particular person ten times until I take my pound of flesh except our paths do not cross while going to the stream, farm, the Market or School.

As a teenager, I had a small frame like my Mother so my peers were always trying to bully me, but that soon stopped when they realized that I never said die until I am dead. My nick name then was “wa pa” some thought it meant to “be cool” but it was actually coined from “wa pa mi l’oni” meaning “you will kill me today” any bully that beats me must be ready for my trouble for I would trail him to his father’s house with stones and any imaginable weapon I could lay my hands on until his family members come to beg and appease me with gifts or money.

I was alone in the hostile world, no sibling to stand by me except my frail Mother.

My Mother was tagged “Iya oloju kan” the woman with one eye. I was her lone eye and she would any length to protect me.

When I turned twelve and in class one in the village grammar school, I started supporting my mother during the holidays by joining fellow teenagers to farm for money. About five to ten of us could collect a hectare of land to weed and cultivate for the land owner who guarantees our breakfast and lunch as well as pay for our service.

We also go to the plantation owners to look for Job from the fruit dealers that buy the harvest from an orange plantation or mango plantation. Our Job was to climb the trees with sacks and pluck every ripe fruit on the tree and load it into Trucks that take the fruits to the northern part of the Country for sale.
Many times we had encountered snakes and hostile rodents on the trees and such encounters had led to the death and incapacitation of some of us. After such hectic jobs, we retire home at evenings after collecting our fees, we then freshen up and hit the street after eating super, super was mostly eaten between 5 pm to 6 pm. We then go about looking for fun and girls.

The problem then was that girls of our mate were looking at us as small boys; they would rather go with the older boys of class 3 and 4. So we simply go round the Village noting which girl was seen hanging out with which boy.
The hang outs could be under fruit trees, by the passage between two mud houses or simply sitting together by the balcony of a house. These we spread around the School the next day.


............................................................................................................................................................................................

The proceeds of my labour I gave to mama as my meager contribution for housekeeping. My father owned no land, I heard he sold his portion of his family land long before he married mama. The only legacy he left for me was some old palm trees scattered in his other brother’s farm lands but my mother never told me about it because she did not want me to turn out like him.

I still wondered what my mother saw in a man like my father, even though she never spoke ill of him to me, I knew she was not a happily married woman.
Mama is a feeble Woman, she has a small frame and not physically strong, she is thin and gaunt as a result of sickness and excessive fasting. I used to wonder how someone with little to eat would indulge in marathon fasting. Mama could pray for eight hours nonstop. Many nights she does vigil praying till dawn, she does not shout or disturb anyone when she prays; she talks to her god alone. Her major prayer point was that God should protect her Son and make a success out of me.

It is only during such prayers that she tells God about her not wanting me to turn out a failure like my Father, she begs God not to visit the sins of my Father on me. I attended one of her vigils with her and I slept off mid way, I was bored because she kept telling God the same thing over and over, no wonder her prayers were so long, I used to wonder then if God was that patient.

My Mother’s problem started when she disobeyed her parent and married my Father. She is from a devout Muslim family; her father was the Chief Imam at the village Mosque while her Mother was the “Iya Suna” head of the Muslim women, so you can imagine the reaction of her father when my Father and his palm wine drinkers went to seek for the daughter of an Imam in marriage. They were chased off I heard. Islam and Alcohol is like water and oil.
Her parent never gave their consent even after I was conceived and my father went with his family members to beg again thinking the pregnancy would pacify her father, rather the news of the pregnancy enraged the old Imam and he cursed and disowned my mother publicly. He did not forgive her amidst pleas from several reputable people in the Village till the death of him and his wife.

After his death, my mother remained a persona non grata in her father’s house, I am tagged a bastard there and I can only point a finger there and tell someone it is my grandfather’s house, it was so bad that if any of my mother’s relation sees me or my mother coming along their paths, they change course and follow another route. And the man that put my Mother through all of these did not stay around to take care of her and her Son.

DOMAWOLEYE:


Hi Cryslyn! You have won my recharge card for being the first to comment on this new thread. please reach me though my number on my profile. Thank you.

Wow! *dancing shoki* tnx dear.

I sense a great story ahead...
Keep the updates coming, nice work Dom.

HI GUYS! IF YOU LOVE MY WORK KINDLY VOTE FOR ME AT https://www.nairaland.com/1804027/free-n5000-writer-here-every#24535726

GOD BLESS YOU. AND THANK YOU SEBAK.

We lived in a two room mud house with wooden doors and windows. Rusted and leaking Zinc as roofing sheets. The roof is supported with old and worn out Motor tyres and heavy stones to hold it down during rain storms, there is electricity in some parts of the Village but we were not that privileged to own a meter let alone tap electricity from the nearest neighbor that has electricity, this is because we could not spare the stipend to be paid monthly as NEPA bill.

Rumour also had it that my Mother could not remarry due to the curse placed on her by her late Father. My father’s tragic death was also ascribed to be as a result of her ill luck and bad omen. I was her only hope to tell the world that she was not under any curse since I am still alive. Thus she became a staunch member of the Christ Apostolic Church and that automatically makes me a member too.

I was the drummer Boy of the Church’s Choir and I could sing and dance well too but my mother did not encourage me singing outside of the Church, it gave her bad memories even though she confessed that she loved the way I was the center of attraction when the church members danced to the alter to give offering or donations.

I would dance forward and backward and before you know it the person in front of me on the queue would be ten yards away while those behind me would be stationary and waiting for me to dance forward and allow them to move forward, I don’t do this deliberately though but I guessed it’s the spirit of dancing that runs in my Father’s blood. If anyone complements me that I dance like my Father, my mother was quick to rebuke such and say “My Son dance like David danced in the Bible”!


I graduated from Secondary School at the age of eighteen at the Community Grammar School Esa-Odo but my result was not fantastic. I got passes in English and Mathematics, I got credit passes in Yoruba and Christian religious knowledge and I failed fine remaining subjects. I had always known that the University was not for me so I was not serious about reading hard to go to one. I just wanted to round up my secondary education and acquire the skill of Carpentry or Brick laying. My only ambition then was to rebuild our house, I never thought of leaving the Village because in all my life I had never entered a vehicle that traveled as far as thirty minutes.

So I attached myself to Baba Miko, his name is actually Michael. He was the most popular Brick layer in the Village and has built lots of houses in the Village for People that live in the Cities and only come home during holidays or festivals like burial ceremonies of their relations or on Esa-Odo day celebration. We started going to work together so I could perfect on the skills I had already acquired while growing up and indulging in several menial jobs. I knew a little of everything called work. I only needed experience to become a specialist.

It was while working at the site of an Army officer resident in Lagos but building a Duplex in the village that I got wind of the news that the Army was recruiting and interested Candidates should go to the Barracks at Ede and obtain the Recruitment Form.

I told Baba Miko I was interested and he allowed me to travel to Ede the next day to obtain the form. That was the first day I actually traveled out of Esa- Odo. I went in the Company of another Boy from Ijebu-Jesha that was a co laborer, he knew his way around Ede.
I returned from Ede and joined Baba Miko at the Site and with his assistance, we got the form signed by our Kabiesi (Local Village head) Oba Adewale Adesankan. I also went to Obokun local Government Headquarters the next day to obtain the signature of the Chairman as well as get my certificate of origin letter.

After a week of running around and updating the form, I went back to Ede to submit the form and was surprised to see that the recruitment screening exercise was starting same day. There were so many youths present there with their sports attire and file jackets containing copies of their credentials. I hurriedly made copies of my credentials at a kiosk nearby and ran towards the office to see if I would be fortunate to submit my form.

Na wetin? A Soldier asked me as I arrived at the reception panting

Good morning Sir! I said: I want to submit my form sir! I just dey travel come from my village, and I dey hear say na today the thing dey start!

Shut up! Give me the form! Oya go and join others outside: the Soldier commanded.

I joined the crowd of youths well kitted in sports attire and canvas shoes to match, I was wearing a Buba and sokoto with a bath room Slippers, I looked out of place.

We ran the race in batches of fifty persons, male and female. I came back the fifth position in my batch. Running had never been an issue for me, I grew up in the Village so hunting games in the forest had prepared me for the race, the only difference was that here I was running on plane and smooth terrain as we ran round the circumference of the Barracks.

Upon arrival, our names and details were recorded in a hard cover note book, the names of the first ten persons were recorded while others were declared disqualified instantly and were advised to leave the barracks immediately. We were then taken inside the Gymnasium for push-ups and sit-up exercises. I did well in all the physical exercises while more Persons were disqualified.

At the end of the day, forty of us qualified from all the batches and were eligible for medical test the next day. I could not go home that day because we had to report at the military hospital early in the morning with our early morning urine and sample of our feces, this was to be collected before we taste anything in the morning.

I knew my Mother would be very worried at my absence from the house and I also knew that Baba Miko would have questions to answer. I had never slept outside the House in all my growing up life. Mama at this stage did not know of my plans to join the Army. I wanted it to be a surprise to her, I knew she would oppose the idea but Bab Miko had encouraged me to go all the way as there was nothing to lose if I fail, he also told me that I had to take certain decisions as a man without seeking my Mother’s opinion.

After four days at Ede barracks, I was among the Fifteen Boys and two girls of Osun state Origin that were short listed for the 1990 Nigerian Army recruitment exercise. We were to gather together in two weeks at the Barracks from where we would be driven to Zaria for a nine months training at the “Land of no going back.”

I went back home and went straight to the building site to meet Baba Miko but was shocked to see my Mother seated at a corner with swollen face, she had her scarf tied to her waist and she was bare footed. Immediately she saw me, she stood up and started walking away.
Oya! Oya! Just be going with your Mother like that! Baba Miko said: pointing at my Mother’s direction.
I knew better than say anything or apologizing to Baba Miko at that moment because I knew what my Mother must have put him through.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was a herculean task convincing my Mother to let me go to Zaria for the recruitment exercise, whenever I remember the drama that ensued in the house on the day I finally left Esa-Odo to meet our contingent at Ede, I weep. A mother’s love for her Child is pure. Mother and Son wept inconsolably, Villagers were gathered to see me off as well as proffer several pieces of advice.

The Villagers kept singing into my head “Ma gbagbe Iya e o!” do not forget your Mother o! Of course I am all she had lived for, how can I possibly forget her? I have no other person in the world but her, we lived for each other, but I needed to go and see the bigger world outside my Cocoon.

Chapter 2
The Land of no going back

Hmmmm...ntn more. Well done sir Dom.

9ce piece

I'm here again Oga Doma
*front row things*

Chapter 2

The Land of no going back

I spent nine months at the Nigerian Army recruitment Training depot Zaria and I survived it. I went to hell and returned. I was in the Charley Company, the yellow Company. My head was shaven and it was taboo to allow hair grow on it. All my belongings were separated from me, I was given some pairs of military uniforms and sports wears, and every other material used there was made for the Army, from basic utensils to toiletries.

The torture and suffering at the depot was incomparable. We were reduced to nothing by the military instructors. We were flogged like Cattles whenever we erred, if a Man derails during the training, all members of his team suffer for it and one Man’s victory is equally everyman’s. That is why you do not insult or assault a Soldier in public because every Soldier within the vicinity will fight for him. The weather did not help matters, when it was cold; it was extreme and when it was hot, was like a furnace.

It was nine months in hell, I had no visitor from home, even though I expected none, I secretly wished for a surprise visit from my Mother especially when other recruits receive visitors that bring them Garri and Kulikuli (Baked groundnut) I had learnt to manage hunger right from Child hood because I was brought up in perpetual want and need. But I never missed my meals at the depot, I do not do anything that would make me to forfeit my meal and I take it personal with any member of my team that causes any situation that would make me to miss my meal. Some recruits skip their meals and use the period to rest since they have alternative. I could not afford that luxury.

My mind was just fixed on the P.O.P day. I knew the phase would pass someday. Many of us could not cope with the rigours of the “land of no going back” as the depot was tagged. Some ran away while some left on medical grounds. I could n not do either as I had nowhere to run to, as long as there were still some recruits who could endure this travail to the end, then I must be amongst them.

I fell ill about four times: the first was as a result of blood clot in my ears, we were made to sit on our heads for three hours, some instructors stood by with Kobokos in their hands flogging and kicking anyone that falls down back into position, the position is like this, we were spread on the parade ground, the ground is made of coal tar and gravel chippings so it is rough and jagged. We squat with our palms on the ground, the we tilt forward and plant our shinning heads on the ground, we then raise up our buttocks using our hands for support till we form an ”A’” shape, then we stretch our hands backwards behind our backs and clasps our palms together consequently the weight of the upper body is shifted to the head, in a couple of minutes we begin to shake all over sweating profusely and wailing, it is even made worse when we are compelled to be singing while under such in human posture “Go and tell my Mother that I am doing well” is the ironic song we normally sing under any punitive situation.

At the end of such session, it is common to see some of us rush to the M.R.S (Clinic) to pull out chipping from the head or to clean up blood dripping from the Nose or ear, there is also this disconnection between your lower and upper body that you need to lie down for some time to allow the normal flow of blood through your body system. It is also a very common sight to see recruits with plastered head or bandaged joint in the depot. We lost eleven recruits to incidents during my set at depot. Some fell from height during the obstacle crossing exercise and broke their necks, some died out of exhaustion and dehydration while trying to run the almighty twenty Miles marathon race, some also died as a result of infectious diseases contacted in the depot.

Majority of us had infections at different times, wearing of Boots for almost fourteen hours daily both under rain and shine led most of us to develop foot rot or Athletes foot as it is called. The odor that oozes out from our Boots when we pull it remains indelible in my memory; the supply of foot powder given to us could not help.

Scabies was another infection that was rampant at the depot. I contacted it because I could wear an under wear for days without washing it, though my Khaki uniform was always clean because physical appearance mattered a lot, you have to look smart always even though you could be soaked in a pool of dirty water any minute, I was always itching, whenever my hands goes into my trousers pockets, I scratch till It hurts, I had blisters all over me, the whole of my back, my buttocks, my crouch, I had sores all over me. My worse moments were when we were on parade ground at attention and the itchy sensation begins, my Gawd! You dare not move while at attention, and my balls and buttocks are itching crazy, it is better experienced than described.

On completion of the five miles marathon race, I lost the use of my limbs for four days, I was given a set of Crotches with which I limped and attended to other activities, about twenty of us got Crotches after that race, some refused to let go of their crotches even when it was evident their legs were okay, some insisted they needed to go home for alternative medical attention, while some had their Crotches taken away while they were asleep at night, naturally they started using their legs again.

Another incident that took me to the Hospital was food poisoning. Fifty percent of the recruits were defecating and vomiting after a meal of Beans and yam at night. It was an emergency situation as there were screams from every quarter of the Depot, it was a very terrible experience, I never knew a stomach ache that painful, it was excruciating, and I was defecating uncontrollably like a tap of water left running. We were rushed to the Hospital in batches as all the Staff and Soldiers of the Medical Corps were summoned to work that night, by morning we lost five recruits to Food poisoning. The panel of enquiry set up by the Army to investigate the incident came up with the fact that the beans we ate that night was still fresh with the chemical used to preserve it.

After nine months, I had added five inches to my height, I was lanky and gaunt, I had learnt how to smoke cigarettes and Igbo (Marijuana) I was not addicted to Igbo though and that was because of the consequences of smoking with an empty stomach. I never had food in my Locker, I only depended on food served us at the Canteen so I only smoked before meals time, the good thing about Igbo was that it makes the Mountains in your life become valleys, after smoking some joints together, we begin to reason together and justify the hardship in the depot as a means of toughening us, we began to plan on how to deal with any bloody Civilian that messes with us when we get to the real world. That is why it is common to see Soldiers soaking Civilians in Gutters or giving them Frog jump drills whenever they have such opportunity. The summary of all we learnt at the depot was to kill. That’s all! Every training was channeled towards how to kill an enemy either you are armed or not.

The D day came and we graduated. The Passing out parade was very colourful and awesome. We were posted into various units across the Country. I was drafted into the Signals Corps and was posted to the 82nd Division with HQ in Enugu. Sixty three of us were posted to the 82nd Division; we were conveyed by two Army branded Coastal Buses from Kaduna to Enugu, a banner with the inscription “Beware! Hungry Dragons” was tied to the front of the First Bus. We belonged to the Dragon Division.

Everywhere we stopped en route Enugu, we wrecked havoc. With ugly bald heads, blood shot eyes; we grabbed food stuffs from Hawkers and gnawed without paying for the Items. Even when we stopped to refill our Gas at a Petrol station, we ordered the Driver not to pay a dime to the attendant, we were Government Children! “Government Pikin” we stopped at Lokoja to eat, there was a cheap Brothel by the eatery, we entered the Brothel and took advantage of the unsuspecting Prostitutes, they were throwing stones at our Bus and swearing at us as we zoomed out of Lokoja like Rebels. We drank cheap hot drinks and smoked all the way to Enugu. Freedom is a sweet thing to experience, I was eventually free or so I had thought.

We reported at the divisional HQ for detailing and debriefing by the colonel G.S. he welcomed us into the real military world and gave us orientation on the scope of operations of the Division. The division covered the whole of eastern and southern Nigeria including the middle belt. We were further posted to various units within the division. I was retained in the capital City under the command of Colonel Asemota the Commanding Officer of the Signals Corps.

All I had in life was in the “Ghana must go” bag that I carried to the depot, it was returned to me intact at the end of the training at Kaduna and that was all I had as I settled into the two room Apartment given to me in the Barracks. I was happy to have a roof over my head, a real house, not the patched mud house I grew up in at Esa Odo. I had a toilet and a bathroom and a Kitchen all to myself! Free of Charge! No bills to pay, it was like a dream, I wished not to wake from this dream, I pinched myself hard and it hurt, then I knew it was not a dream, I screamed out loud then I knelt down and said a prayer to God, I did not pray throughout my stay at the depot but on this day, I was sure I had survived. I thanked God for his protection and I begged God to forgive all my short comings. I prayed to God to keep my Mother safe for me, even though I was sure she was on her knees praying for me at the same moment, at times when I had wanted to pray at the depot, I imagined my Mother was doing same on my behalf so I used such time for something else.

With the little allowance I had with me, I went to the mammy Market and purchased some basic house hold stuffs, especially cooking utensils. I could not buy a mattress so I made do with my Military Blanket on the floor. I was waiting for the payment of our nine months salaries accumulated while on training. It would be paid in bulk to us so we can start life with it after which we would rely only on our monthly salaries.
After a week of reporting to Enugu, I was granted one week pass to go home and see my family, I did not have enough money on me so my R.S.M lent me the sum of five hundred naira, and it was a huge amount as at December 1990. I travelled home to see the only one Person in my life, my Mother.

CHAPTER 3

I was anxious throughout the journey home. I wished the driver could run faster, I felt like taking over the steering from him but I had not known how to drive then, I looked at the speedometer and saw that the man was on 120 km/h already. I had butterflies in my stomach; I would laugh out of excitement at intervals when I think of the reaction I would get from my kinsmen upon reaching the Village. I know some passengers in the bus were nervous whenever I gave out my intermittent chuckles, they might be thinking I am not sane.

The Bus stopped at Ilesha at past two o’clock and I joined a taxi to Ijebu jesha from where I joined another taxi to my village Esa Odo, I dropped at the Market junction in the Village which is along the road to Ilare. I was fully cladded in my military uniform, my Boots were sparkling in the Sun, my green khaki stood still as if it was carved out of wood, I re positioned my beret perfectly on my head as I began to march towards my house like a robot cop.

The crowd grew as I marched home wards, I could hear whispers from women and Children all around me, I did not look sideways, I heard my name spoken, some were doubting if it was Ojo, some say it is Makanjuola, others whispered Stephen. I also heard someone whispered “is this not the son of Iya oloju kan?” it is him! Another answered, it is wa pa! (Short for wa pami loni)

Then why is he walking like this? Another asked.

Why are you asking me? Look at him before you! Ask him yourself! Another person countered.

I was hearing all they were saying but I was not seeing them, I was looking at my house at the distance.

Don’t you know they give them a certain injection when they join the Army? Someone proffered.

And so what? Another challenged. What has that got to do with the way he is walking! Is he a robot? Why are his arms spread as if he wants to fly? And why is his chin so raised and he is not even looking sideways!

Ha! Alaba watch your mouth o! Don’t you know what they call Sojas during the war? Kill and go! He is in a Killer mood now o! He can kill any one of us now if he has a gun!

Ha! Olorun maje! (God forbid) who will give him a gun here? And why would he kill us? Is this a battle field?

The crowd grew, the whispers became murmurs, the murmurs became clatters, soon it was noise all over me, and I kept walking as they run along to meet my pace.

I kept walking, I saw her from afar, she was seated plaiting someone’s hair, two other women sat on a bench opposite her, they had Trays on their laps and their hands were busy.

I increased my pace, I wanted to run, I couldn’t, I wanted to call her but my tongue was tied, my head was swelling, my vision was blurring, the tears dripped freely as I began to jog towards my mother.

She rose from afar, I saw her rise, and she looked towards my direction, our direction, me and my crowd. She sat down and continued her work. She stood up almost immediately she used her hands to block the sun rays from her eyes as she started towards my direction, some children had already run to meet her and were talking to her. She started towards me, her wrapper loosened and dropped on the ground as she limped toward me, she limped , she jumped and she slumped as she was trying to reach me, I screamed “Mama!” she got up and limped quickly towards me shouting my name.
We met; we locked in an inseparable embrace. I had never cried like that in all my life. We clung to each other for over ten minutes crying. Other women present at the scene were crying too and rendering my ancestral praises. I found strength and lifted my fragile Mother off her feet, I carried her like a baby and marched towards the house, she clung to me with her head on my chest crying, we got home and I gently placed her on the chair she was sitting before my arrival while I sat on a stool close to her and cleaning her tears with my immaculate white handkerchief.

My Son you have changed! She managed to say

I know mama I replied

Shh! someone hushed the crowd: iya ati omo nsoro! E dake yin! (Mother and Child are talking! Be quiet!)

What happened to your legs mama? I asked: you were limping!

Before she could open her mouth, someone offered

She tripped and fell on her way from the early morning stream!

She had a big pot of water on her head, it was still dark! Another offered
It was very serious o! A third person said: we thank God for Baba Miko and Okoro the Igbo Chemist! Your mother could not walk for four good days!

A fourth person said: your mother does not eat else she would have recovered fully!

The first person said: how would the drugs administered on her work when she does not eat food? When we beg her to eat, she says she heard that there is hunger at the Army training ground; she said we should help her take the food to you instead! She said she cannot bring herself to eat when you are hungry and suffering.

I nodded my head affirming all that was said, which is typical of my Mother. I pulled her closer: hope you will eat now mama? I asked
Yes my son! I will eat! In fact I am hungry now! She said

Mama got up and stamped her feet twice on the floor, she placed her hands on her waist and wriggled it severally then she walked briskly towards the room
Let me get some food to eat and then take my drugs! Can’t you see I can walk well now? She asked.

The shout from the crowd was understandable, it was a miracle, and my presence had healed mama.

Before the Crowd dispersed that night, our house was filled with variety of food stuff brought by the Villagers to assist my Mother in taking care of her guest, me.

I went to greet the Kabiesi that night; I went still dressed in my Military regalia. He was so happy and proud of me, he felt honoured that I paid him homage with the Army Uniform. My Village is a small one and I do not know any serving Military personnel that hail from my Village, my people are scared of the Army and Soldiers generally. Before I got returned home that night, Kabiesi had sent a bag of rice and some tubers of Yams to my mother.

It was a different me that wentto the Village, I seldom talked and People thought I had become mean and ruthless. My Friendskept distance from me as they do not know what they may say or do that would unleash the supposed inate beast in me. But it was just me, the fresh experience from the depot had made me to see life differently, life is a battle field and not a Market place as some people say, but I was not mean, I have never been, I was just cautious, I observe my environment and listened more than I talked.

Mama started talking about marriage but I reminded her that I was just nineteen years old, she had forgotten. She now sees the Man I have turned into instead of the Boy I really am. She started calling me Oko mi (My Husband) instead of Ojo my name, also her name in the Village changed from “Iya oloju kan” to “Mama Soja” (A Soldiers Mother). She received a lot of Visitors during my five days stay in the Village, she had suddenly become popular, and who visits my Mother at home before? She had no friends! No one associates with the Pauper. Now, those that owed her money for services she rendered to them years back readily paid up! I know my People, I was the reason.

Mama began to eat well; she ate three times daily throughout my stay. Baba Miko suddenly assumed the position of my Father, he had being of great assistance to Mama during my absence and so when I came home, he was the only one that was bold enough to talk to me like the Child he used to know, I owe him gratitude. He furnished me with information on things going on in the Village; he was also revered for being the God Father of a Soldier. Mama told me that Baba Miko uses my personality to threaten his debtors and any ensuing opposition.

On the fourth day in the Village, the Kabiesi invited me for an evening stroll, we strolled together, I was dressed in my Army branded Sportswear, a track suite on Canvas, I did not have Clothes to wear save for the military attire I got from the depot, my old Clothes in the Village were all under sized. Together we went down to a drinking spot close to the Dam build on the popular Osun river that flowed through my Village, some of his Chiefs and friends were there already and I was given a warm reception.

They asked me several questions as we palm wine and gnawed at smoked Grass cutter meat in peppered sauce, I laughed as I attempted to answer most of their fallacious and ridiculous questions about the Army and her Soldiers, I was able to clarify many of the wrong impressions they had about the Army.

In all, I gained respect! I brought back respect and honour to the name of my Father, a name he had soaked in Palm wine. Whenever I walked down the street, I hear Children hailing me, waving and shouting “Morning Sir!” I waved back at them; even the Girls began to smile at me and seek for opportunity for acquaintance, but was a totally different scenario ten months ago. I now dine and wine with the likes of Kabiesi and titled men in the Village, I was just a common private Soldier!

Kabiesi gave me a hectare of Land to do whatever pleases me with; I told him I would love to farm on it for now pending when I am fully settled in the Army.
I was to come back and pick my mother to Enugu after I must have collected my bulk money and furnish my home in the Barracks. But that was not to be, it never happened, the world was not done with us yet

CHAPTER 4

I travelled back to base and resumed duty on a Monday; it was a week to Christmas. The daily routines were waking up in the morning and do my morning pushups and sit ups as I get set for work. I report for work at 7.30am and by 8.00am it is time for morning parade. Here we are addressed by the Commanding Officer (C.O) the Administrative Officer (A.O) or the Regimental sergeant Major (R.S.M) we are briefed of any development and any information necessary is announced to us. Issues are also treated on the Parade ground.

Issues could be anything ranging from refusal to give your Wife adequate monthly allowance, Wife battering, drunkenness, Igbo smoking, sleeping with the daughter of a fellow Soldier (Children above 18 are not supposed to live in the Barracks) Fighting, the list is endless. Our dresses are also inspected and our breath smelled to find out those that wash their eyes with hot drinks before coming to work daily.

Our Office is inside the barracks community and I trek 30 minutes to the Office from my House, some Soldiers come to work with Motor Cycles while others trek, Soldiers that were fortunate to have gone for one or two internationally peace keeping mission drive Cars to the Office. They could afford Cars as a result of accumulated salaries while away on the peace keeping mission; they are paid allowances while on mission so they could save their salaries.

For those that are married, they sign up some cheque leafs for their Wives for monthly family upkeep and Children School fees, the unmarried ones save more except for those that have serious relationships or live-in lovers before departure for the operation. There are several cases of Men that returned from two years peace keeping mission only to discover that all the monies saved up or sent home have been squandered by their Wives, such cases results into family break ups as such Wives are termed “Witches” they never expected their husbands to return alive. For Soldiers that do not return home alive, all his savings and benefits goes to his next of Kin.

At 2.30pm it is close of work officially but sometimes one has to hang around until the senior officers have left the Office before you can leave because of any ad-hoc assignment that could come up.
I was a signaler, attached to the radio room and my job was to receive and transmit information within all military formations, some information are coded and has to be decoded for further transmission. Some volatile and high profiled messaged are transmitted “encoded” for security reasons. Only the recipients can decode such messages. Our office also tracks messages within the national telecommunication networks to surf out potential dangerous information of national interest.

Whenever I am on night duty, I take the next day off, sometimes I am attached to the house of a senior officer as night guard, or I am assigned to guard a sensitive post. The job routine was fixed and I have my weekends to myself except if I am on weekend duty. I have planned to enroll in either of the Enugu state university or the institute of management and technology for a part time degree program once I am fully settled, say next year.

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We did not receive any salaries in December and January; HQ admin was yet to be done with our documentation into the NA database so I survived on borrowing and charity. We were very credit worthy for older Soldiers readily lend us monies because they all knew we were expecting something big when our bulk money is paid up, and once this is paid, everyone will know. The barracks is a small community where nothing goes unnoticed.
I stopped smoking marijuana because I was broke and managing the meager resources with me as I wait patiently for my pay, Secondly Igbo smoking was not encouraged in the Army contrary to my expectation, in fact it was a punishable offence to be caught smoking Indian hemp, however, fifty percent of the Soldiers still smoke it. I had brought a lot of food stuff from the Village but after three months of non receipt of salary my Ban became empty.

By April in 1991, we were preparing for the annual G.O.C (General Officer Commanding) Cup inter unit football tournament. I was among the Players of the Signals Corp, I played centre forward and we go to the Field every evening after office hours for training and practice. It was during one of those sessions that I met Mr. Chike or Oga Chike as he was popularly called.

Oga Chike was a Civilian business man that deals on Machines and automobile Spare parts at a market called “Coal camp” in Enugu. He supplies the Army spare parts from time to time and he is well known in the barracks, he is about the only Civilian that would drive into the barracks without being interrogated at the main gate. He approached me after a training session and shook hands with me, he said he liked the way I play football, he encouraged me to keep it up and strive to be enlisted into the revered “Green Beret” Army Team. Players in the Green Beret are favoured with speedy promotions and a lot of leisure. I thanked him and together we strolled to the Corporal below mess (CBM) we joined others to watch an ongoing football match while he ordered for drinks. I had no Television set in my house so I normally come to the mess to get entertained.

It was during my discussion with Chike that I indicated interest in buying a cheap car when I receive my money, I told him I would love to drive the Car to my Village to pick my Mother and bring her to Enugu with me. He promised to help me get one when I am ready. He said he had some cars handy for sale but are far beyond my reach based on my budget.

The Football competition started in earnest and I made more friends, my skill at playing local football in the Village and chasing games in the Forest paid off as I was easily spotted as a Star on the field, I scored in every match that we played, I scored two goals when we played against the military Police, I scored a goal when we played against the medical corps and two goals against Engineers, we drew two goals apart with Workshop and BAD (Base ammunition depot) My unit was top on the league.

Our money was finally paid in the Month of May, I was paid nine Months allowance used in Zaria depot plus five months arrears as a serving Soldier. All the money amounted to twenty thousand naira! In 1991 twenty thousand naira was like twenty million naira today and I really felt like a millionaire back then. In all of my life, I had never thought of owning such amount of money.

I furnished my house sparsely. I bought a giant sized six by six inches mattress, I bought green rug Carpet for the two rooms and placed my mattress on the Rug. I did not make a bed, I bought a medium range electronic set and a twenty one inches coloured Television. My Dad never owned a television or any electronic gadget till he died; even the transistor radio he carried about was given to him by a debtor who could not pay for the palm wine my dad supplied him during new yam festival. So I felt so accomplished when I opened my door and beheld my transformed two room apartment, with every property owned by me. My Mother needs to see this.

I went to Ogete main Market and bought some clothes and Shoes. I bought some Ankara fabric and jewelries for Mama; I bought her hand bags and Shoes too. When I slept at night on my Giant sized mattress, I went to heaven and woke after nine o’clock in the morning when everyone had gone to work. Of course when I got to work at after ten o’clock I was relieved of my Beret, my belt and shoes and marched straight to the Guard room! The only question my RSM asked me was: You dey sick? To which I answered No Sir! March him to the guard room! He ordered the Korofo marshal, the quarter master drilled me to the guard room with his swagger stick cursing and insulting me as if I had issues with him before now. Common move! Oya! Frog jump! Frog jump! He commanded while jabbing me with his stick. Stupid boy! Idiot! When small money enter una hand, na so una go de do any how! He poked me harder with his stick even though I was obeying his commands and frog jumping to the guard room.
The RSM did not tell him to punish me, he was simply told to march me to the guard room but immediately the RSM was out of sight, he resorted to punishing me.
Yeye boy! He continued: you don go drink, Bleep ashawo forget yourself! No worry, no be this barracks you dey? That your money go soon finish! Oya pull that your wrist watch give me! So you don go buy ‘shine shine’ watch ko? Idiot boy! Barger! Oya commot that chain wey dey your neck! You be woman? Stupid boy!
In all of the rants I did not utter a word, I knew better, I was released later that night and I went home to freshen up before reporting for night guard duty at the house of my CO.

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We played the semi final match against the 244 Recce Battalion of Awkwunanaw and we defeated them on a penalty shoot out , I scored the last and winning penalty shot and I was raised shoulder high at the end of the match. Sergeant Korofo carried me on his shoulder and ran round the barracks while our supporters and team mate ran after him singing and jubilating. We later settled down and the CB mess for drinks and entertainment.
Chike came around when we were rounding up at the mess and called me out for a chat.
Congratulations Ojo! He said

Thank you Oga Chike! I replied

The Car don ready o! Na you I dey wait now! He announced;

You mean am? I asked: which kind of car? How much:

Na Peugeot 504GR and na eight thousand naira: he said.

Haba Chike! He too cost nah! I no get eight thousand naira I beg. I replied.

So na how much you want to pay? He asked

I can’t pay more than Five thousand naira, and I need to see the Motor first, I said.

Oya follow me! He said as he turned and walked briskly towards the tarred road where cars are parked, I followed behind in excitement.

He pointed at a navy blue coloured 504 saloon car and dangled the keys before me, we entered the Car and he started the engine and revved it. The engine sound was superb and the interior very neat and smooth. He said the Car does not have a factory fitted air condition but it can be installed if I care, who cares? I asked him. I love the Car instantly and I agreed to buy it if he is willing. He accepted my offer and the next day I paid him in full and I became the proud owner of a Peugeot 504 GR saloon Car! And that was how I bought trouble with my money!

Continued dear,i love this

God bless your efforts Mr writer.....awaiting more updates

CHAPTER 5

Within a week, I was driving very well, there are lots of spaces in the Barracks on which one could learn to drive a car and there were so many willing teachers so long a car is available. So every morning I drive to the Office picking People and dropping them along the way to my Office, there was no problem or eye brow raised because three of my mates also bought Cars and everyone knew the source of our Money except for some elderly Soldiers that frowned at our choice of purchasing Cars instead of buying Lands and start building, but I was just twenty years old and quite naturally, building a house was the last thing on my mind.

I wanted to go home and show the world what God has done for my small family, I wanted to carry Mama in the Car and go round the Village, I wanted to drive her to every where she had trekked to and finally I wanted to drive her back to Enugu to start a new life, she was about forty five years old but she looked sixty and I know that with a good diet and rest she could recover her shine for they said she used to be a sight to behold in her youth. I planned to rent a Shop for her and set up a hair dressing salon for her. Perhaps she could even find love again, some Soldier could be interested in her and I really would love that to happen to Mama, she deserves a second chance at love.

The engine of the car was in superb condition, vapour still drips from the exhaust pipe when I steam the Car; my Friends said I bought PAN; that was the term used to describe a brand new Peugeot Car fresh from the stable of Peugeot Automobile Nigeria Limited. I did not bother about the registration of the Car so as to get the necessary cover documents, I was a Soldier and my identity Card surpasses any type of license or documentation in the Country, so I had come to believe because I was yet to see a serving Soldier whose vehicle particulars are up to date.

My life changed momentarily, I now dress well and also drive a car, I have a little furnished apartment of my own, wao! The world was in my pocket, I even had some change to throw around even though I had never had the privilege of being extravagant. I get to work daily in my sparkling Car which I made a point of duty to scrub daily whether it is dirty or not. I was comfortable in my own right.
I finally rented a Shop at the Mammy Market and I locked it up pending Mama’s arrival. I needed to know what she would prefer to do with the Shop and I also needed to go round the market to know what trade would spin fast money in the Barracks.
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We played the final match against the Garrison Unit and we defeated them by two goals, once again I scored the winning goal, I was celebrated as usual and my popularity spread through the length and breadth of the Barracks, everywhere I went I heard my name, Oj! Oj! I waved to so many people while I gave “thumps up” to others. We settled at the CBM later in the evening for celebration and our unit senior Officers paid for everything we ate and drank.

Two days after the football finals competition, my C.O summoned me to his Office and presented a sealed Army Customized envelope to me, he asked me to open it and read before him as he was interested in its content: the letter was from the Army Directorate for Sports, I had been nominated for screening into the Prestigious Army national football team “The Green Beret”. I leapt for joy and clung on My C.O before I realized I was jumping on a Colonel in Uniform, I recoiled immediately and prostrated on the floor in my uniform apologizing to him,
Common stand up and don’t be silly! He said: he pulled me closer and patted me on the shoulder: congratulations my Boy! You have a bright Career ahead of you, if you succeed, you may have to leave the Signals Corp for the Physical training unit, he said.

I did not really know much about the PT unit save for the fact that they are in charge of organizing sporting activities and screening of recruits for the Army, they control the Gymnasium, the Football fields, and every other sport facility and the physical training of Soldiers too. I was indifferent. I was simply happy.

CHAPTER 6

I applied for a week’s pass to enable me travel home and bring mama to Enugu, three days was approved by the A.O so I decided to travel on Saturday so that the three days starts to count from Monday, and fortunately I was not on weekend duty.

I set out for the journey at exactly 5.30am on a Saturday in mid July 1991 in company of my colleague and mate Saka, Saka is an indigene of Abeokuta in Ogun State. He knows the route to the west from Enugu having travelled severally along the road with his Boss the A.O, he also drives very well so he could take over the steering when I am tired, but the most important part of the journey was that I would be the Person to drive the Car into my Village. We were dressed in our Uniform, the Camouflage, I did not wear my Boot but kept it aside because I was to drive over a long distance.

At 8.00am we were already at Agbor when a Police Hilux Van over took us and waved at us to park our Car. I swerved the Car off the road cursing under my breath, how dare they? We sat in the Car and waited. The Police van reversed and almost hit the fender of my Car with its rear thereby blocking us from moving forward, I was furious, what impetus? We opened the doors of my car and stormed out challenging: What is the meaning of this nonsense? I asked:

Can’t you People see that we are military men? Saka barked as four Police men jumped down from the back of the Van brandishing AK47 Riffles

Hands up! One of them barked

You say what? I asked

Are you deaf? Armed robbers! I say raise your hands up and go down on your knees before I scatter you now! The same man roared obviously drunk, or so I had thought.

I knew better than argue with a man carrying a gun so we raised our hand and knelt down. Passersby where beginning to gather, I felt so embarrassed. Imagine common Police men disgracing combatant Nigerian Soldiers in Public simply because they have Guns, I wished for some Soldiers to appear from anywhere, I was bursting inside with self-control.

Can I see the Particulars of this Car? An inspector who was sitting inside the Van by the driver came down and asked, he has a Pistol in its pouch.

The Particulars are in the Glove compartment! I told him

Can I see your I.D badges? He asked

It’s in my breast pocket! I said

Mine is in my wallet in my back Pocket, Saka offered

Bring them out! He said as one of his Boys went to the glove compartment and came out with a brown envelope which he handed to the Inspector; he opened the envelope and brought out the receipt of purchase Chike had issue me.

This is the receipt of purchase! Where are the registration documents? Inspector asked and who amongst you is Ojo?

I am Ojo, I said, I have not done the registration yet, I just bought the Car! And please why all these embarrassment? I am on my way to my Village in Osun state and I have a very long distance to cover! I said.

How did you come about this car you are driving? Inspector asked

I bought from a car and Spare parts dealer in Enugu as evident on the receipt with you, the name and address of the seller is on the receipt! I said.

The Inspector looked cursorily at the receipt again; the address on this receipt is in Ikotun in Lagos State!

Oh! I did not read it, I said; maybe he has a branch in Lagos! But he gave me that receipt! I said.

Open the Bonnet! He directed one of his Boys, he stretched his hands and collected our ID badges; put down your hands! he said.
By this time, a crowd had gathered around us, mostly street hawkers and beggars along the road, I wished for the earth to open her mouth and swallow me, I contemplated standing up and putting up a bravado show, but I was far from Enugu and no Soldier was at sight, where are these Soldiers when you need them?.

The Bonnet was opened, inspector looked at the engine and chassis number, he went to their Van and brought out a Jotter, he came back to my Car and compared something in his Jotter with the Chassis and engine numbers of my car, then he shook his head sadly, I thought he had made a mistake, I waited patiently for him to apologize so I could give him a piece of my mind.

My Friend, are you Boys real Soldiers? Inspector asked

What sort of stupid question is that inspector? Saka charged; are you mad?

The Inspector gave a short sarcastic laugh and shook his head sadly with a wry smile.
My Friend, if you know the type of soup you have just entered now ehn? You will shut up your mouth! The inspector said. Oya let us go the Station! The two of you, go into that Van, my Boys will drive the Car after us.

Drive my Car? I asked; for what? Because of common Car documents? I am a regular combatant Soldier of the Nigerian Army! How can you be so uncooperative? Are we not all uniform men? What happened to “spirit de corps”? I swear I will go to Onitsha Barracks and mobilize my men once this is over! Is it because you are wielding Guns? You are threatening me with common AK 47! Kai! I don suffer! I kept ranting as Saka and I were cuffed and bundled into the Van to the excitement of the Crowd

Double post

Well done op. I'm following dis story; really really following it. I only pray u don't remove a chunk somewhere (yeah I've read one of ur story where u did that) well done once again!

stonecoldcafe:
Well done op. I'm following dis story; really really following it. I only pray u don't remove a chunk somewhere (yeah I've read one of ur story where u did that) well done once again!

Not to worry Stone cold, I wont remove any chunk here. thanks for your time and encouragement.

Yeah getting interesting by the day ....pls and pls don't keep me waiting for too long.....anyways you're good with your descriptive prowess.......well done Domawoleye

charijee:
Yeah getting interesting by the day ....pls and pls don't keep me waiting for too long.....anyways you're good with your descriptive prowess.......well done Domawoleye

Thanks Chari! You wont wait too long.

M still here op. Do u hv an update pattern abi is it as d spirit leads? Lol