Fatimoh had demanded I take responsibility for the child unborn even though her parents were against it. Their reason was that the society frowns at such incidents-They wanted an abortion. For six days I had to think critically,I was losing weight and my skin was fading,nothing had ever disturbed me as this. Around the Barracks I was a shadow of myself,I lost my sense of humuor as a joke made me angry. I lost myself. Just as people believe when a person is about to die his life flashes before him,all my actions,all the sacrifices I had made to become a high-ranked and well-respected Army personnel seemed to be drowning into the mediterrian.

The decision was taken on the day I saw a piece of paper on an empty road. I had been walking,thinking my way out of this ugly predicament. There was a rush of wind as leaves were being blown about,my eyes were fixed on the ground and it immediately caught an odd item in the stampede caused by the wind. A brown paper,squeezed,and it seemed quite old. Picking it up,it wasn't quite easy to read it's content as the ink had almost waned,the paper itself was on the brink of destruction. In that state,it was impossible for me to understand a word on it. Taking it home,I quickly brought out my torch,and placed the paper carefully on a table. The torch however didn't do the trick,as only words as 'the heart' was visible. Just then,an idea struck me! I brought out my Android mobile phone and took a picture of the paper. I then edited the picture,and made it 'negative'.

That was it. The words became visible,straining my eyes a little,I finally read it's contents
"The Heart knows not what it wants
But the Head does
Because after the Heart stops
The Head's still fighting with worms"

I stood still,trying to formulate a clear interpretation of the poem. Body parts like 'head' and 'heart' were repititive,maybe to suggest an importance. Maybe they were metaphorical. I could not figure it out so I sent for Jibril,a junior recruit who was the son of Mat Aliyu. He had attended the best schools in the country and was a literary genius,twice getting female soldiers dismissed from the force because they accepted his advances,after he had written them a love poem. His father,Mat Aliyu sent his son to join the Army but as a 'VIP' trainee. He was afforded the best clothing,a well furnished room,and was allowed to skip the drills. However,he had respect,and knew his seniors.

Looking densely into my phone,he frowned,as it fighting to gain access into it. He finally spoke,with a voice couldn't be mistaken-the voice of triumph.

"The heart here is metaphorical,the head too. The heart represents acting passionately,the head-logically. And often,the heart confuses,but acting and thinking logically could be the best way to tackle an issue"

After Jibril had left,I was fighting tears,knowing the decision i'll take.
"I'm sorry. Here's a cheque of two million naira [N2,000 000]. Take it,and do whatever you please. Fatimoh,i'm truly sorry. I'll be off to the NDA tomorrow"
The street I met with her was not close to how empty I felt right now,tears threatened to flow,but no one could see a Soldier cry,not even the trees.
"So that's it? You'll erase me and your baby from your life?" she said,keeping a strong face while collecting the cheque
"To the world I never met or knew a certain Kanjowo Peters?"
"That's it" I replied.

I turned,and walked back home,letting the tears flow freely,damning the trees.

next draft below.
Please ghost readers comment. Abi una turn to doz pipu wey dey collect salary but no dey show face for office?

sorry for the delay guys,this draft is dedicated to CivilizedTiger

Although I tried to justify the man's assertion,that he was making a pun given that my name was Peters,he seemed so serious and ambition-driven. According to the Bible,Peter the Apostle denied Jesus thrice,when he was recognized by people. How can I be Peters when I haven't denied anybody thrice. Maybe I did it out of jest as a kid and the only scenario where it proved serious was nine years ago,just before I was promoted to a Colonel.

I sat under a mango tree,enjoying the serenity of the barracks,I had just finished taking the new charges through some drills,so I really needed the time to rest,and rest I did,until a junior recruit stormed into my 'comfort zone' galloping like a buffalo,his face looked so disturbed that it seemed the word was invented on the present look on his face. He almost rammed into me,almost forgetting to execute the customary salute.

"Sure sir!" he barked,then composed a statue-like look on his face,his nose shifted uncomfortably when I released gas into the air. I did so to show my displeasure at the intrusion. I raised my head up,showing him my chin,signalling him to speak. He now took a deep breathe,as if he was just released from a spell.

"Sir,that erema dey for barracks gate" he said in soldier tongue
"Which one? Fatimoh?"
"Yes,she say she wan see you" he replied,using his still disturbed face to show why he thought this was no ordinary visit. I still quizzed deep,wanting to gather sufficent information before I go to meet her.

"I thought I told this girl not to come here. She never tire for prick?" I turned away from the junior soldier,soliloquizing.
"I even lie for am sey you dey meeting with General oo,she say wetin she wan tell you important pass meeting with presido sef"
"So if I was truly in a meeting with the General you would have interrupted? Because of a girl?"
"No ooo...Never" he retreated,as if fearing a slap,raising his two hands in the air.

I dismissed the officer,walking to the barracks gate,I received close to 20 salutes from junior officers,this slowed the pace as I moved 'jejely'. I had hoped that Fatimoh would have left by the time I got to the gate. But there she was,facing backwards,her body had lost it's initial appeal as slabs of fat had made their way to the sides of her tummy,however,her lower body still 'made sense' as her buttocks was still firmly placed,her hips still curvy. As I approached her,I had put on the face soldiers were known for. Straight. No-nonsense. She probably heard the rhythm of my footsteps,as she turned. Her skin had become darker but she was still beautiful,just a little less than before. She spoke immediately she secured that 'vital' eye contact.

"Pero...." she called me the pet name she gave me,but her voice wasn't sonorous,her voice seemed so different from the one which said "my name is Fatimoh" the second time I approached her,her voice lacked the beauty of a nightingale's song as when she vocalized into my ears we first had s.ex. Her voice was uncertain.

"I am pregnant".

Although I tried to justify the man's assertion,that he was making a pun given that my name was Peters,he seemed so serious and ambition-driven. According to the Bible,Peter the Apostle denied Jesus thrice,when he was recognized by people. How can I be Peters when I haven't denied anybody thrice. Maybe I did it out of jest as a kid and the only scenario where it proved serious was nine years ago,just before I was promoted to a Colonel.

I sat under a mango tree,enjoying the serenity of the barracks,I had just finished taking the new charges through some drills,so I really needed the time to rest,and rest I did,until a junior recruit stormed into my 'comfort zone' galloping like a buffalo,his face looked so disturbed that it seemed the word was invented on the present look on his face. He almost rammed into me,almost forgetting to execute the customary salute.

"Sure sir!" he barked,then composed a statue-like look on his face,his nose shifted uncomfortably when I released gas into the air. I did so to show my displeasure at the intrusion. I raised my head up,showing him my chin,signalling him to speak. He now took a deep breathe,as if he was just released from a spell.

"Sir,that erema dey for barracks gate" he said in soldier tongue
"Which one? Fatimoh?"
"Yes,she say she wan see you" he replied,using his still disturbed face to show why he thought this was no ordinary visit. I still quizzed deep,wanting to gather sufficent information before I go to meet her.

"I thought I told this girl not to come here. She never tire for prick?" I turned away from the junior soldier,soliloquizing.
"I even lie for am sey you dey meeting with General oo,she say wetin she wan tell you important pass meeting with presido sef"
"So if I was truly in a meeting with the General you would have interrupted? Because of a girl?"
"No ooo...Never" he retreated,as if fearing a slap,raising his two hands in the air.

I dismissed the officer,walking to the barracks gate,I received close to 20 salutes from junior officers,this slowed the pace as I moved 'jejely'. I had hoped that Fatimoh would have left by the time I got to the gate. But there she was,facing backwards,her body had lost it's initial appeal as slabs of fat had made their way to the sides of her tummy,however,her lower body still 'made sense' as her buttocks was still firmly placed,her hips still curvy. As I approached her,I had put on the face soldiers were known for. Straight. No-nonsense. She probably heard the rhythm of my footsteps,as she turned. Her skin had become darker but she was still beautiful,just a little less than before. She spoke immediately she secured that 'vital' eye contact.

"Pero...." she called me the pet name she gave me,but her voice wasn't sonorous,her voice seemed so different the one which said "my name is Fatimoh" the second time I approached her,her voice lacked the beauty of a nightingale's song as when she vocalized into my ears we first has s.ex. Her voice was uncertain.

"I am pregnant".

CivilzedTyger:
Nice one bro I'm following

Thanks...check out for an update on sunday.

CHAPTER 3

Mystery is solved by doing nothing. Nothing,but allowing the free-flow of normalcy course through the people's veins. When it is discovered the values of the majority,mysterious deeds reveal themselves as an antithesis-or as a problem solver as the case might be.
Kanjowo Peters eyes stared blankly at the man he called "Pastor",as if it was awaiting the forming of his facial organs. By now,he had learn not to judge these people.

They appeared rather strange. Even though they held guns,it was treated with zero-importance,it was treated as something that could not steal life off a person,and decides who lives and who dies. They were children here. Men. Women. And now,Pastor Philips. Pastor Philips ministry was one of the baby-churches in Jos,but growing with zeal,as her members increased,the minister's popularity soared among locals,and people flocked to his church to listen to his inspiring sermons.

I was literally dragged to his church by a superior in the Army eight months ago,and damn...I was impressed. The man had a way of unearthing secrets from the Bible.
"What are you doing here?" I asked
"I should be asking you the same question,to rescue that man,eh?"
"Why does everyone seem to believe that. I hate him more than you-he embezzled the Local Government reform funds,had used touts to claim land,he even has men go to secondary schools to abduct girls so he can have his way with them,he..."
"shut up! You were sent to release him,right?" the old,haggard man roared
"Yes" I replied,bowing my head in defeat
"Couldn't fight off the fire eh?" the pastor asked
"Well,to answer your initial question,this is a fight for our rights,our economical power,and most importantly,to make significance of the effects of Jesus' death on the cross"
"Are you aware of the words contained in Matthew 27:51?"

I was surprised these people were talking to me about the Bible,instead of pulling out my flesh,and hitting a hammer on my teeth,dealing me with several blows and slaps,and eventually wasting me when I fail to disclose confidential information.
The old fellow brought out a rough piece of paper from his left pocket,and held it at the middle,and read
"At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The Earth shook,the rocks spilt"

I sat,still tied,looking puzzled at the men. Now the painted curtain held a connection to this scripture that was just read. What was the connection? I wondered,still looking at them but unable to make sense of the burning questions I was harboring in my head.
"We are anti-democracy,we are rising up against the people of books,and pens who sign cheques,and steal on suits,in broad daylight. The Gospel of Matthew tells us that,after the death of Jesus,the curtain tore into two,there was no need for an intercessory body,or political parties wielding umbrellas and brooms,we,the sons of God are free to tap into the blessings of God on Earth. They say the pen is mighter than the sword?

Not when it is sharpened by the Mount Zion and swinged in the name of the Lord"
It was now beginning to make sense. These people were religiously-fueled,the old fellow and Pastor Philips it's leaders. The former granting military assistance,gun wise,and the latter doing his bit religiously. They couldn't be motivated by money,for even though I didn't know the old fellow,all Pastor Philips needed to do was perform theatrical miracles,and boom,he'd extort money,and become rich.
I wonder what they want to do with me.

"Peter couldn't fight the fire,and he denied Jesus thrice. He begged for forgiveness,and was granted. He was the greatest of the twelve"
"You,Colonel Kanjowo Olufemi Peters,ID batch number 33571195COL19,are going to be Peter,and even though you have transgressed,you will be granted a clean slate"
I sat befuddled.

CHAPTER 2

Inside the basement was dark and reeked of nothingness,mumbling voices could be heard at the Eastern wing while youths playing cards at the Northern wing. Inside the basement was a room,guarded by two armed men. The curtain painted a sharp color of red in the middle,as it dividing it into two parts.

They were about three children scooping water from a tray,the water turning to an almost-gold color,one would be surprised if the kids haven't suffered Cholera. The dark gloom and mild noise which presided over the basement-as the rebels call it thrust a myriad of thoughts into Kanjowo Peters' head. Thoughts that flew over his head so quickly he couldn't recall any. As footsteps approached him,the prisoner of combat could hear the clock ticking,counting his last moments. He had resolved that they had no use for him

"So you're an hypocrite?" a voice asked,full of emotion and anger,a tone of familiarity,as if I had wronged him.
"I am not. I practice what I teach. I teach what I practice. I practice what I believe in. I am no hypocrite" I replied,surprised at my new-found voice and boldness.

"Why do you sell your soul to the devil,and claim you didn't receive any money? It is evident that you have been sent to release that man"
Just then I heard Mr Mat Aliyu's voice pleading for his life,begging for a cash exchange for his life to be spared. Just as the person addressing me coughed,Aliyu's voice ceased to be. I became afraid. Terrified. They had killed him.
"I should do the same to you now. I should forge a big hole in the middle of your head,and have you carry it as a trademark to the world beyond. You ought not to live. You are a disgrace"

I was speechless,as I mumbled my last prayers,handing my fate over to God. Only him-only him could save me from this judgement. In the midst of prayers,I didn't notice that my "anticipated" execution was being delayed,as I heard a new,strange voice,yet familiar voice speaking under muffled tones with the one that judged me earlier.
"It's time to see our faces. And this,will change your life forever"

It what seemed like hours,my eyesight was freed from the torment of abject darkness. My watery eyes took a second to get used to the environment-totally forgetting that two pair of eyes were fixed sternly on me.

A heavy slap requested my attention,which I couldn't deny. I turned sideways and saw the face of my abductor. He was surprisingly old,given his teen-like voice,with a mafia look,and red eyes,he had a little scar on his left cheek,and his notorious face,was supported by a more notorious dressing.

A red basketball shirt,and a blue baggy jean,which was torn at the thigh area,to reveal his dark skin. Most suprising of his appearance was that he wore a chain of Jesus on the cross,all other people I had seen here wore this same chain.
Interrupting my dilemma-solving state was the entrance of a man I had seen,but not sure where,how,and when. As he came closer,I immediately recognised the face.
"Pastor?"
"Yes".

Queenstar nice story, more updates......

slimsue:
Ha! Me, i cannot carry last oo. Carry go ma'am.

u must to carry last ohhh, me i day here b4 u

All rights reserved. Utilization of this work in whole or part, in any form, electronic, mechanical or other means now know or hereafter invented is forbidden without the permission of the copyright owner. You can contact me via emmanuelesomnofu@gmail.com

I will be posting at least one update daily. This is my first story on nairaland, so fellas take it easy on your critique. Though am open to constructive ones.

cc: ozila larrysun zuby77 queenxstar hameenat94 hassan85 ddddon cupzofxo joanee20 peterdrumz slimsuedivepen1annstar

Author : Emmanuel Esomnofu

CHAPTER 1

Kanjowo Peters retreated behind the green leaves,his camouflaged face doing most of the work for him. He cursed under his breathe,angry he followed the General's orders. He isn't here,and why should he teach a combat-ready soldier how to wield a gun? It just didn't make sense. "Monkey jump,monkey jump,na cos tree near tree" he said,repeating the popular military phrase,maybe to connote the General's superiority given he wasn't at the battlefield.

Bullets roared through the place,making rhythimic sounds that were like the worst music. Peters,nursing an arm wound,protecting a bloody civilian,that had let millions of people suffer ruthlessly from poverty.
"Get Mat Aliyu to safety,and return to the hq" General Samuels' voice barked through his head. Mat Aliyu was one of the most decorated civilians in the country,his meddling into matters of security cheered by the country. He was a saint to many,but a cold-blooded beast to some,who saw him for what he truly was-a thief. Embezzling funds that should develop the state,and commandeering it into his pocket. There was a hushed rumuor that he hid money in farms.

Kanjowo Peters,the leader of the extraction mission had locked horns with members of the rebellous group,and was fighting a losing battle. The Nigerian Army were largely outnumbered,with the General retaining more soldiers at the head quarters,incase a counter move was planned by the rebels.
Hiding behind the leaves,he watched as the rebels dragged Aliyu into the basement. There was cease fire,and all was quiet,except,the noise he heard from behind him. Making a 360 degree turn,he moved stealthily,holding his Ak-47 in both arms,ready to combat. A boy. A boy,was all he saw,and he held his gun still fixed at him,until the boy broke down in tears. Peters lowered his gun,and emitted a number of questions in a spilt second

"Who are you?"
"Who brought you here?"
"What is your name?"

The boy's face held no answer,even as Peters did his best to find any trace on his face. He reached for his telecom device and put it to his ear.
A creaky sound was all he heard,as it became immediately evident. Comms was down. He looked at the mystery boy again.
"Good job,X" was the last thing Kanjowo Peters heard,before an object hit his head,and he passed out.