************************** CONTINUED FROM https://www.nairaland.com/2013039/roses-red-where-im-going


The Picanto picked up pace as it climbed the 3rd Mainland Bridge, on a hot friday the 13th day of July 2012, still trying to impress me.

‘Can you wind the windows down a little? Shayo asked from beside me.

The buttons are on your side of the door too you know, I thought to myself but then I obeyed. I knew an olive branch when I saw one.

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

‘I will survive, the baby is going to be big I can tell.’

‘Is that a good thing or bad thing?’

‘it’s good when he is out but bad when he is coming out.’

‘Oh now I get your point. Any name suggestions yet?’ I asked her, wary of putting mine out there first.

‘I have written two down and I am praying about it’

Shayo, the prayer warrior. A smile began to form on my lips. She looked at me and shook her head. She knew what was gong through my mind at all times. She was my wife and even if I had hoped she would die sometimes, or wished I could just run away or wake up and find out it was all a bad dream, I loved her.

The explosion was loud and compelling. Two cars in front of us somersaulted and exploded as everyone slammed on their breaks. I could hear the sound of metal crashing into metal as several cars collided behind us. The commotion was intense but thankfully, my Picanto was safe. The silence was heavy. No one knew what had happened. Then we heard the gunshots. Glass shattered all around us and there were screams from the children in the Black Escalade beside us. I watched in horror as their driver’s body ripped open and splashed blood all around the windscreen. I quickly opened my door and jumped out, I made a sign at Shayo to do the same whilst keeping her head low. For the first time I was so grateful to God I drove a Picanto, the bigger SUVs around it had protected it. Shayo and I met at the back of the car and we sat down. She was breathing heavily. I could see many people lying on the ground, some running backwards. There was Blood everywhere. This could not be happening on 3rd Mainland Bridge! Where was the police? Was it a robbery? I was about to signal at Shayo that we had to move backwards and away from the gunshots when I saw it roll past me.

Grenade!

I counted instinctively, as I covered Shayo with my frame; one, two, three, four and explosion. I heard screams further away from us; more blood. The danger was getting closer and they were targeting the cars behind us. I had no clue what to do but I couldn’t panic, not now; I had to do something for my wife and my unborn child. The children in the car beside us where still inside crying and shouting. I crawled towards them and opened the door. Luckily, it was open.

‘Come’ I said to them quietly. Two of them came out. Twin girls.

Silence again.

They followed me to where Shayo was. I looked around and counted eight people huddled up beside their cars unsure what to do. I made a sign at everyone that we had to move quickly and quietly away from the mayhem in front. I looked at the twin girls.

‘What are your names?’

“Vou and Hannah’ one of them responded. They were still sobbing. I shook my head in disbelief. What a place to meet my kinsmen.

I told them to follow Shayo and they all began to inch their way past the cars, quietly away from the gunshots. I turned and gently stood up to peer over my Picanto, above the other cars and my heart stopped.

There were eight of them standing in front of the two white busses they had parked right in the middle of the 3rd Mainland Bridge leading to the island; eight men, causing all these chaos! They wore masks and their language was definite. I had heard it before and I knew who they were. They were so close it was a miracle they had not seen us. I looked behind me. Shayo and the rest were not in sight. Good. I turned to look at the men again, strutting around with AK47s. I could see hand grenades dangling from their belt pouches and one of them had an RPG strapped across is chest. This was not a robbery, I thought, this was war.

I almost let out a scream as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see the reassuring camouflage of the Nigerian Army. The man who touched me was a Colonel. I could see the infantry insignia on his left breast and his name-tag read ‘L. Kachallah’. Another kinsman, I sighed.

‘Oga, you shouldn’t be here’ he said. ‘Go to the back and find a way out of here. The place is blocked at the back there. There is really no way to get out except you climb and jump across to the other side of the bridge.’

My God, Shayo. I thought.

‘What are you going to do?’ I asked him.

‘We cannot allow these people to ruin our country’ he said. ‘My security detail have two SMGs and I have a pistol. We will do what we can before the police get here.’

There were three of them. The Colonel, a Corporal and a Lance Corporal.

I turned to go and felt blood on my neck before the Colonel knocked me to the ground. The terrorists had noticed us and opened fire. The Colonel and his crew returned fire and a battle ensued. I kept my head down and prayed with my eyes closed, wishing the whole thing away. What was I supposed to do?

There was silence again.

The Colonel had been hit on the shoulder. The Corporal was fine and attending to the Colonel. The Lance Corporal was dead beside me. It was his blood that had splashed on my neck. The Colonel looked at me, winked and gave me a thumb up as he leaned on my Picanto. I was stunned. He had been shot for heaven’s sake and he was winking at me? I shook my head as I dusted my clothes and sat on the ground. I looked up and straight at the barrel of a gun aimed at the Colonel’s head. In one swift motion, I grabbed the Lance Corporal’s gun beside me and squeezed the trigger. The Colonel reacted immediately, rolling to the side, as he shot off two rounds at another terrorist sneaking in beside my Picanto. The Corporal seized a hand grenade from the pouch of the terrorist I had shot and let it fly towards the bus were the remaining terrorists were huddled. One, two, three, four, explosion then silence.

The Colonel looked at me again and raised his eyebrows. I nodded that I was fine. He mouthed ‘thank you’. Then he waved at the corporal who crawled forward towards the terrorists. I moved forward towards the colonel and together we crawled gently by the other side of my Picanto. Silence still. We could see the Corporal. He was standing by the mangled bodied of five terrorists. He shot them again then waved at the Colonel.

‘It’s clear Sir!’ he said.

The Colonel and I walked towards him as the door of one of the busses burst open and another terrorist jumped out shooting. He killed the Corporal. The Colonel shot the terrorist and ran to the Corporal. There was nothing he could do.

The Colonel inspected the first bus; driver side, nothing, no one. We opened the back and we stopped dead in our tracks. The bus was rigged with explosives. Even to an untrained eye, I knew it was serious. The Colonel muttered ‘Jesus Christ’ and dashed to the other bus. It was the same thing. Both busses had synchronized timers: 1 minute 50 seconds.

He looked at me and said.

‘Do you know about bombs?’

I shook my head.

‘We can’t leave these busses here’ he said. ‘If we do, the bridge will collapse and everyone and thing on it is gone. People are still trapped at the back there.’

‘So what do we do?’ I asked, apprehensive.

‘We have to get the busses over the guardrails and into the water. That is the only way. We can quickly swim to safety afterwards. However, I can’t drive two buses.’

The realization hit me! Is he expecting me to drive one of the busses into the water? Never. I have a pregnant wife to take care of and she needs me.

I could see the colonel smashing the driver’s side glass of a Toyota Rav4 down the road. He came running back holding a mobile phone, wincing under the pain of his wounded shoulder.

‘Quick,’ he said ‘do you have your phone with you?’

I shook my head.

‘Okay we will both use this then. I am sending an SMS to my wife. To let her know just in case something goes wrong. Are you married?’

I nodded.

‘I’m sorry, but you have to give me your name, your wife’s name and her number’

‘Kefas Dazang’ I replied solemnly

The Colonel looked up at me and smiled

‘Sho’ he said in native greeting

‘Kaja’ I responded.

He quickly finished the message and dispatched it. Then ran towards the Bus in front.

‘Come on!’ he shouted.

I didn’t move. He walked back to me, put his hands on my shoulder and led me to the second bus . As I closed the back door, I looked at the timer: 60 seconds.

I got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I was numb.

The Colonel reversed the bus in front to my side. We waited side-by-side, our vehicles facing the guardrails protecting 3rd mainland bridge. He rolled down his window and shouted at me

‘Kefas, No Greater Love… no greater love!’ he smiled. That wink again.

I had heard those words before, but I couldn’t remember where. The colonel revved his engine and I revved mine and together we sped towards the guardrails of the bridge. 30 seconds.

We smashed into it, the front of the vehicles capitulated and then the vehicles in synchronized motion catapulted over the railings and into the water below.

I thought about my Shayo, my wife. She should have gotten the message by now. I am doing this for her and the child, the child for whom I must live by example.

Greater love… Ah, now I remember those words; spoken by the man I gave my life to: Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his brethren.

The Colonel wasn’t planning to swim away; he must have thought I didn’t notice that his left hand was now useless. What he didn’t also know was that I couldn’t swim. Greater love?

As the vehicles hit the water, I was not afraid; I had no needs, no worries, nothing. I knew where I was going.

This is how light wins darkness, I thought with my eyes closed.

Four, three, two, one.



@iamrikimaru
www.rikimarutenchu.

Glossary:

*Miskom Puepet*, Chollom*, Pangwuilti, Fom Bot*, Vou Gyang Bot Dung*, Dazang, Davou – all names of prominent Berom People.

*Kusa – is the local mining of Tin and Columbite

*Baram – is a local hockey game played with curved sticks and a round rubber ball

*Wahala – colloquial for palava, stubborn, heady

* Sho, Kaja – are part of native berom greeting

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ubjunior10:
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