₦airaland Forum

A Nigeria where I'm allowed freedom to raise my children and speak my Yoruba in peace.

A Nigeria where I can greet my hausa neighbor "Saanu" and reach out to my Igbo friend saying "Kedu".

A Nigeria where I can dress my children as "Efik" on culture day without being scolded by my husband and also teach them how to eat "Ikokore" without being castigated as an Igbo woman.

A Nigeria where my child can freely gain admission into "the university of Ilorin" as a Tiv, attend a church in Kano without fear of being haunted by ISWAP.

I long for a Nigeria where a citizen has free access to other countries without restrictions.
A Nigeria where I can freely add "iru" to my child's food without fear of being discriminated from her fellow classmates.
One where my husband's life isn't at stake as a result of being transferred to Borno just to put food on the table.

A Nigeria where I'm allowed without condemnations to vote for "Asiwaju"as an Igbo woman or where I'm not being chastised for voting "Peter Obi" as a Yoruba woman

I want to tour the world and travel abroad without a reason to abscond totally but thirst for the comfort of my country, Nigeria.
A homely Nigeria is all I ask.

Thanks for the compliments
Will contact you soon.

"Dara!", "Darasimi!" her mum called out from what seemed like a distance or perhaps the kitchen.
She mumbled and murmured half awake, lazily wondering what day had dawned and then it struck her. A Sunday, a first Sunday at that.

Realizing the fact that she had purchased a new pair of shoes yesterday, she jumped out of bed instantly, headed towards the balcony and made for the broom. The chores were suddenly fun and everything went smoothly as an incessant row with her mother was carefully avoided. Some sort of anxiety for starting a new day.

She was bent on attending the first service which was unusual so,she scurried in and out of the house contending with her mother's errands and unending chores. Fortunately, she ended up in the bathroom after what seemed like an hour of unending errands.

"Mummy I'm going o" she called out to her mother who was hell bent on ruining the day. Darasimi was impatient and anxious but then "who doesn't want to flaunt a new pair of shoes in exchange for heart melting comments"? . Over and again, she squealed and squeaked in high spirits at the thought of being the centre of attention.

And there sat St.Francis Xavier Catholic Church, in it's elegance, looking exceptionally beautiful with the sun lingering on the horizon as if waiting for the closing clouds. What a sight to behold!

"Into your sanctuary, we come to adore you Lord" ,the angelic voice of the mass choir sang, the hymn was starting " We're late" Darasimi muttered, they were on the verge of sitting at the last row of seats. No, she couldn't let that happen, not after putting on her new pair of shoes. She dashed ahead of her mother who called out to her aggressively, Dara turned deaf ears, she had gone.
But at last, she ended up sitting amongst her peers. They all assessed her dress mode and drooled over her new pair of shoes. Dara's joy knew no bounds,she smiled sheepishly, knowing she had successfully accomplished her goal.

A resounding "Amen" took her by surprise , she opened her protruding eyes in bewilderment. She had slept through the service, "how"?,she qestioned herself and looked around for her mother with sleepy eyes peering into faces in the congregation without moving an inch. She squinted her eyes in attempt to see clearly but it was fruitless and exhausting. Besides they all had a head gear on.

Her heart skipped a beat, she heard a sound, "what was it"?, she wondered and listened intently, she wanted to be sure. And again " Boom!". It was the sound of a gun being shot. She scrambled for safety as voices of women in confusion and agony rended the air. She was frightened and terrified, she was confused so she began to quiver. And like a knight in shining armor, the ushers swiftly locked the doors. For a moment, just for a moment, she felt safe or maybe she was safe .

"Boom!" It echoed across the building. Someone just got shot , she was an old woman, she could hear it in her worn out voice , she was in pain.
Similar voices filled the air, ones that were pained. Dara was in tears, "Mary !" , "Mary!", she shouted, Mary was bleeding, she is the new girl whose grandparents brought to church for the first time. She had come to visit her grandparents as her parents lived abroad. Mary's white gown which Dara had earlier admired was soaked with blood gushing out of her neck . She couldn't touch her, it was a dreadful sight, she didn't know what to do. She was scared.

"Yeh!", Darasimi yelled, Pain! , she felt pain. A sharp pain , one she have never felt before. It ran deep like a snake's venom, it ran deep and raw. For a moment, she couldn't comprehend the cause but subsequently, she felt this warm liquid like substance run down
her lap."Did I just take a leak?", she contemplated.

Darasimi reached down without looking.she smelt blood , she was bleeding, she bled heavily. Minutes later, she felt worn out, she was weak but wasn't willing to be overwhelmed by the pain. Amdist all , her mind was busy wondering if her father was on his way to church for the second service. She wished someone could inform him that it wasn't safe out here, perhaps he was at the farm, or maybe she hoped so.

Dara began to feel dizzy,she was trembling, she couldn't feel her eyes and so she sought comfort in her own pool of blood, she was helpless.
Subconsciously, Darasimi looked around for her mother, and then she was reminded of her father whose money she stole. "Will she ever refund the money"? She had promised she'd return it excessively later in the future but In the end, "She failed him" , "She failed our father"
She drifted away slowly. Black out. Darkness, utter darkness was all she felt. It's over.