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CHRONICLES OF CHIKWADO


The news about Chikwado's nefarious activities had hit the village like a pill of thunder. Different versions of the story seemed to have erupted everywhere. In Umuchi, such cases weren't strange.


Beseeching the gallantly flavoured version he had heard, Umunakwe was hung in the balance. The young strata of the village held unto an account very different from that of the older groups. Acts, like the one committed by Chikwado, wasn't the first of its kind in the community, but why was this one creating so much school of thoughts??

Shaking his head, the saying that "one man's meat is another man's poison" raced into the mind of the devastated Umunakwe. "Why won't people gossip and tear themselves up?

Umunakwe's son has faulted, certainly the music has suddenly changed. People would do a host of other serious crimes and get away with it, but... well, it is well. I must head home now ," he said to himself.


Tongues wagered on in the community for weeks. Every nook and cranny of the community had turned into a predator's zone for Umunakwe and his family. Fate was what brought Umunakwe to Umuchi years ago.


The stigmatization that bordered their stay was enough to kill any brave heart, hence another saying that no matter how critically well the anus was washed, the foul smell was still ever present. Just at the time he thought he was half-way towards getting the "smell" off his family, Chikwado had turned all attention back to them.


"Chikwado", came Umunakwe's voice, shrilled by anxiety. "I'm certain you know that your buttocks, like that of the proverbial hen, is wide open at the sudden gush of the wind in the community?" Chikwado, whose face bore patches and lumps from the autonomous "hell-is-better" beating graciously given by an angry mob, stood very unsettled and uncomfortable.


His appearance reminded one of the Praying Mantis. Having eyes that looked like they didn't belong to the head and an extremely large head, his scrunched up nose did worse to make a positive description of him possible.


"Will you not answer my question?" Umunakwe asked, trying hard not to make an outburst. Chikwado shifted from one foot to the other.

"Papa...", it was his mouth this time. The elevated nature at which he poised it would give even the greatest surveyor an ultimate puzzle to determine its angular accuracy.

"You had better clear up this foul air before the gods of our land strike you to permanent dumbness!" It was clear to Umunakwe that keeping composure wouldn't take them anywhere. If it took him yelling like an enraged mad man to get some details out of his son, he would do it.

"Did you steal from the Ikonu shrine or not!!??", Umunakwe barked furiously.

"Papa, i was only helping the chief priest. You know how much I have aspired to become one of the greatest dibias our land has ever had or known", Chikwado blurted.

Umunakwe stared into the heavens. With a curved mouth, twisted in fury, he was losing his patience.

"Last week, Chikwado, you wanted to become a poultry farmer when i caught you with some eggs, owned neither by you nor I. Now, it is dibia you want to become, okwia?"

Chikwado's head seemed to have grown larger than normal, with a more puffier cheek as he listened to his father's accusation.

Thinking very hard for a counter measure with which to get out of his father's grip and sensing Umunakwe's clenched fist, he blinked a few times. "Papa, you also ate that egg..."
"Will you shut that dirty hole you call a mouth!!?", Umunakwe exclaimed, looking over his shoulders in case someone had mistakenly eavesdropped.

"Papa, you even asked for a second and third round of..."
"I said shut that mouth up!!!!'', Umunakwe's eyes was all bulgy now. One could not help but notice the striking resemblance between father and son. "One more word from you and I'll show you what hot water does to the tortoise! Why have you decided not to let me have a moment's rest?! The day another ear hears of this, that very day, you will lose that village square-sized head of yours, anumpama."


Chikwado grinned from ear to ear. It was no doubt true that he was indeed his father's son.

zyzxx:
wow
It awesome, more wisdom ma'am
Pls why do u title it " lost " ?

Thank you. To be truthful, I was bereft of ideas as to what the title would be. Frank, in the story didn't seem to have any identify. So I guess, that's why I titled it "LOST"

zyzxx:
Let me read

Please do I'm open to criticisms and encouragement.

LOST

Why was morality held at such high esteem? Why was there the need to listen to the inner voice called conscience? Life seemed quite empty with no Dahlia around to hold him in a tight embrace and tell him everything was going to be just fine.

It was just another day after working hours. The divorce had him worked up so bad. Just in a flash, he had lost the small solitary world he had built for himself. One that had helped him come in terms with the psychological trauma of sexual abuse from a deranged father.

His father had served time in jail for some years. In and out of prison he went. His mother was too engrossed in drugs to stand up to her husband's shortcomings as a parent. The last he saw of any of them was fifteen years ago and those days held painful memories.

Frank grew up a very troubled young man. He had resulted to living the life of a cassanova to prove to himself he was as good as every man out there despite the dehumanizing treatment from his father.

He had met Dahlia on one of his numerous work visits. She worked as a secretary in the real estate firm he had done some architectural work for two years ago. She was a prize to be claimed, the ultimate reward being to go under her skirts just like the others he had proved his point with.

She was a tough nut to crack. For an entire month he wooed her in the bid to at least go on a date with her like a smooth criminal in order to accomplish his aim
"My answer remains NO, Frank", she told him over and over again, but he wasn't going to accept defeat in a hurry.
"I'll be back tomorrow, next tomorrow and the day after it until you agree to go out with me on just one date."
She gave him an uncertain smile and excused herself in order to return to her work.
True to his words, he had come unto her with more creed and desperation, making sure to play his cards well.

When she finally said yes to him, they went on their first date together to see the movies.
On the second date, she seemed quite nervous as they made their way into the restaurant. She was fidgety and looked solemn in a way that made her appear fragile. Where there thoughts in her mind?

"A penny for them?" Frank broke the silence, passing her the menu. She gave out a low laugh, clearly amused.
"It's really nothing, they would be worth more than pennies anyways", she joked.
Frank smiled at her. Looking down at the menu in his hands, and then up, at the restless young waiter who seemed to be getting impatient at the fact that he had being waiting a while for them to place their orders.
"Sorry," he smiled sympathetically. I'll have whatever she'll be having. He turned his gaze to his date, who was still going through the menu.

She stared up to notice that the two men were waiting on her.

"Uhm -- i'll have some coconut rice and vegetable sauce. Seems most of the dishes here are either quite difficult to pronounce or too tempting to resist." she remarked.
It was Frank's turn to laugh now. "We'll have some champagne now while we wait for our meal, if you don't mind?"
"Coming up, sir. Would that be all?" the waiter asked.
"For now at least, yeah." he replied. In a few seconds, the waiter returned with a bottle of champagne. The stage was set, but it looked like Frank's turn to feel shy. He spilled some of the drink on the table cloth as he reached for his glass.
"Nervous?" Dahlia asked him in amusement. "Don't forget to hand over some tips for the stain."
"I've never being this nervous with women", Frank replied, tongue in cheek.
"The proverbial ladies' man perhaps?" she laughed first, Frank was laughing soon afterwards. It was obvious she had come around, trying to be relaxed with him as much as possible.
"Thanks for coming on this date with me, Dahlia. This is a start to more glorious adventures ahead, hopefully." he said with a naughty innocent grin. Wonder how that's actually ever possible, but Frank did pull it off like a natural, like he was born to do this.

The duo had a fun time, it seemed to Dahlia she was beginning to like Frank more than she expected to. Yes, he was handsome, but those were the types of men her mother had told her to be especially careful about. This could be the start of something special, she thought too. The last time had taught her lots of lessons. She had given her entire being to Richard, but he was only just a cute face after fun.

Frank felt he had scored a major point. He was going to claim his prize as soon as he could, as soon as she let him. Could Dahlia be liking him more than just a bit? She had answered so when he asked her what place he held in her heart. As expected, he professed undying love over and over again, but she didn't seem to bulge.

Finally, she bared her soul to him after they saw the movie "endless heart". She told him about her fears about love and how she had suffered abuse at quite a tender age. Something in Frank left him. Looks were indeed deceiving, because no one really knew the true story behind the appearance of every human until being told. He felt a strong wave of emotions as he looked on at her, with misty eyes.

"I've got something to tell you too, I was sexually abused by my very own father. Somehow, I felt I could finally get myself to block off those memories by sleeping around because therapy wasn't working for me. My dad is in jail now and I've got no idea how my mom really ended up", he told her, with tears budging his eyelids.
Dahlia, for the first time understood Frank, his thirst for intimacy and warmth were all in the bid to be loved and cared for. She forgot her problems for a while, as they wrapped themselves up in a tight embrace.

"I love you so much, Dahlia. I really do. I pray I can make this work for us, for you and I. I know I've used these words more times than I can remember, but it's the truth. You're the only one I've come out clean to in a long time. I just -- "

Dahlia touched his lips slightly and hushed at him. Together, they felt a connection so strong. Frank told himself that he had felt fulfilled and whole again, and it had only been possible because of Dahlia. That night, they spent their first night together. He drowned his troubled in her arms and touch and she felt bliss in his expression of love. A night when the making of love seemed to lift the two loved birds into a realm of solitude.

A few more months into the relationship, Frank proposed to the love of his life. His healer, as he referred to her as. To cut a long story short, the lovers got married and things sailed on well. Frank's foster parents had given their blessings, so had Dahlia's only surviving biological parent - her mother.

Things got out of hand one year after the marriage. Frank was once again haunted by his father's shadows. He was like a lost soul that had only felt relieved for a while. The search for spiritual healing drove him into the embrace of a few healers. He was cheating on Dahlia.
Although she knew about it, she loved him enough to let herself believe that it didn't matter. She was his confidant and gave him a shoulder to cry on, so it seemed unfair to raise dusts over it.
Frank was getting some "healing" quite alright, but the straw that broke the camel's back was when it drove him into finding it on his matrimonial bed with Dahlia's very own step-mother. The shock almost killed her, and she left him for good.
There was no liberation for Frank, maybe he was just a deranged soul just like his spiteful father.

That very day after work, three months precisely after his divorce from Dahlia, something felt different. Life itself felt worthless. He had betrayed the only woman he had ever sworn to love and that had ever loved him. After a very long hour of drinking and drowning in self pity, he hung himself.

Could he have done things any differently? Was death better of for him than life? Was his birth a mistake? Who was going to miss him? He had all these running through his mind and memories of his happiest moment flashing through his eyes, but the dark cloud of the painful molestation from his father haunted him as the life crept out of his body. Then, there was darkness.


(c) 2015, Eureka123