It was about 8:36 p.m. and they were in the middle of the sea, still far away from Brass. The engine stopped abruptly and had refused to start. The driver had tried all he could for the past one hour, but to no avail. Ninety five per cent of the soldiers on board have never had any good swimming experience. If any had, maybe in small shallow streams and pools, but not the one they were on. The worst about this experience was it was dark and the tide was gradually becoming turbulent. The sea breeze was blowing really hard and their gunboat was being tossed about by the tumultuous waves. The boat was floating to no direction, even as the driver kept trying his best to start the 120 horse power engine.
Sopriala and one other journalist, Uche, from another media outfit were the only media personnel that travelled with the soldiers. Uche was scared to death. It was his first time to travel by sea and this was happening.
Uche and Sopriala were made to sit in the middle of the boat before they departed. The journey had been interesting from the point of departure to this moment. It was supposed to be a two hour journey, but they had spent four hours floating around. Both journalists, when the journey started, chatted and shared their journalistic tales with each other, laughing so loud at intervals, and attracting the attention of nervous soldiers who were not used to such sea journeys. Since the engine broke down, the story had been different. Uche had been very quiet and nervous. He was fidgeting like a virgin who was about to be defiled. He held Sopriala so tight that if the boat had gone down that moment, Sopriala was sure of drowning as well.
As a riverine man, Sopriala was a fish. He learnt how to swim in deep waters. He was born in Kula, a coastal community in Akuku-Toru Local Government Area, Rivers State, which was bounded by the Atlantic Ocean. Finding himself in this scenario wasn’t that scary to him. He had had experiences of his boat capsizing and getting lost at sea a couple of times while growing up. The first was with his father when they went out to toil all night. His father was a renowned fisherman who used the resources thereof to see him through school. He always joined his father to sea anytime he was back for holidays. That fateful night, the catch was great and they were sure of making a fortune from it. But the story changed as their boat sunk after a huge wave hit them. They lost everything. That night, father and son swam all night and tried staying afloat; hoping by dawn help would come from other fishing boats. It was an experience of a lifetime because none came to their rescue till almost the evening time. By the time help came, their bodies where numb from cold. His father almost passed out as his heart was near stopping from a cardiac arrest.
With this experience and others, the moment he was in didn’t bother him that much.
****
‘Driver!’ one of the soldiers shouted, ‘How could you embark on the journey without ensuring all was okay with your engine. Now we are in the middle of nowhere.’
‘O boy, me sef I no know say e go be like dis o. We service the engine this morning o. Me sef I no come understand’, the driver responded, sounding very weak and confused, having battled with the engine for the past one hour.
There was pandemonium. Some were raining insults on the driver for his inefficiency; a few were calm, saying prayers to whatever they paid allegiance to; others were arguing on what next to do, since the engine wasn’t responding.
Uche was more or less dead. Sopriala tapped him to assure him all would be well, but he was too scared to utter a word. There was nothing he could say, because the situation was beyond him. He had never travelled by water before; this was his first time on the sea, so what could he have contributed to this kind of situation?
It was a few minutes to 9.30 p.m. and Sopriala was thinking of his next move should anything happen. He was prepared for the worst. He reminisced on his childhood experience with his father and summoned the courage of a survivor.
‘Everyone stop!’ Sopriala shouted.
He got the attention of everyone, even those deep in prayers were distracted and drawn to the call.
‘My name is Sopriala. Let’s stop the argument and think of what to do. The driver isn’t to blame in a moment like this. These things happen, so let’s stop apportioning blames and seek for a way out.’
‘So what do you suggest we do mister Sopri…whatever?’ one of the soldiers asked.
‘We have to paddle this boat to a nearby creek and anchor there till morning. I doubt if any boat would come this way tonight.’
It sounded like a brilliant idea, but some began to murmur within themselves. His suggestion raised another round of arguments, but Sopriala halted them again.
‘Sharap you bloody civilian!’ One other soldier howled at Sopriala. ‘How dare you command us in our boat?’
‘Sorry, but I was only trying to suggest a way out.’ Sopriala responded sharply. His tone angered the soldier, but another intervened.
‘Emm…Mr Reporter, you said we should paddle our way to a nearby creek. How do we find our way to any creek? We seem to be floating in the middle of nowhere, and it is dark. We can’t sight any mangrove forest from here. Do you know your way around here? Where are we precisely?’
‘This is my first time travelling this route. Maybe the driver might know, but I know if we follow the tide, we would berth at a creek anyhow.’ Sopriala sounded so sure. ‘Driver, do you know where we are?’
The driver who had a big touch pointing at different directions to ascertain where they were confirmed that they were about an hour away from Brass.
‘Which direction do we paddle to get to a creek?’ Sopriala asked
‘That way!’, the driver pointed.
‘Alright, how many paddles do you have on the boat?’
‘Four!’
‘Bring them on! You use one at the back, while I’ll go to the front. Any other two persons can grab the others and let’s see how far we can go.’
The driver concurred, and they began. They paddled the big gunboat, but the tide was flowing against them. It was indeed a difficult task. The more they paddled, the more they felt the tide against them. A few of the soldiers on board volunteered and took turns to assist, while the rest who were too afraid to try, because of phobia for water, watched in frustration how their effort went down in shambles. Uche also watched in awe how his new friend struggled to save the day. From that moment, Sopriala won his respect.
After several attempts they gave up and allowed the strong tide take them to nowhere. That was how they floated around into the middle of the night—ten hours from the showdown.

Episode 1--https://ikiemoyeiniamagha./2017/12/20/309/

Episode 2--https://ikiemoyeiniamagha./2017/12/21/sopriala-continuation-2/