The Unfortunate

‘What is his name?’he asked her , looking at me faintly.

‘Why can’t  u ask him?’ she responded, wiping the sweaty face of the boy, that was blushing on her laps, with white handkerchief. She laughed at his inquisitive nature.

‘Hello boy …I tickled him slightly and he swung like a pendulum showing the vent of whitish teeth…my name is Peterson’

‘Junior! Won’t you greet uncle Peterson?’ she said teasingly.

‘Good afternoon, mr Peterson’ he blabbed, clinging tight to her chest.

‘ Good afternoon, how are you doing… I fondled his chubby cheek, as he laid flat on her chest, looking outwardly at my direction… And what is your name?’

‘My name is emmy,I am 5 yrs old, I attend providence nursery and primary, I am in primary 1… ‘He recited this like nursery rhymes,until one of shoes, that wasn’t worn properly, dropped from his foot. He stooped from her chest to pick it.

‘Good emmy, that is very Good,you are very sharp… Madam, please take care of this brillant boy’

‘ I will sir, thank you’ the woman replied, adjusting his position, because he almost fell from her laps.

As I tried to rest my back on the seat, I bumped my back on a woman’s head, who was napping at my back. She apologized and readjusted. Rays of sunlight that flooded in through the window, made the bus stuffy – I widened the window to allow more air inside.And I began to reminisce

It was the state of the roads that crept into my mind , they were bumpy and creepy.They made us drive endlessly to our destinations.’Why did I come back to this hell of a country’,my mind was asking question.it was then my subconsciousness processed my earlier encounter with emmy, allowing in some more ugly thoughts into the cracked wall of my heart.

‘Daddy, when will you take us to see hopa Oramiyon’ my son said with a british accent

‘It is Opa Oramiyan… I laughed and corrected…Tomorow, hopefully’ I replied

‘Hurray!’ he screamed in jubilation, and moon-walked over the tiles-made floor

‘Now get some sleep, because is gonna be a great day’

‘Thank you, you are the best dad in the world’

He continued his celebration, by raising it two hands up, as if he had conquered the world.

‘ Good night dad’ he said as he laid in bed

‘Good night, don’t forget to say your prayers’

I closed the door of his room beaming with smile, wondering how my little boy had grown within the pace of  5 yrs. Then I moved to the next room, where his mother was lying. I gazed at her with so much admiration,especially for the baby, she was carrying in her womb. I sincerely wished, it will be a girl, since kyle is craving for a sister. I kissed her fore-head and left the room. I then drove out to buy fuel for the next day.

I spent hours at the filling-station, because there was rumour of fuel hike soon. Some of the filling-stations were hoarding their fuel. while those who were selling, were selling outrageously. When I finally bought fuel, I returned home.

Unfortunately, it was their remains I met – my family had burnt to ashes by fire.The fire was ignited by ministry of…, who were trying to clear the bush,nearby, for  a housing project.But they did it, by setting fire on it and also didn’t make sure the fire was queched before they left . That caused the inferno that razed my family.

‘ They were okay in UK, why did I bring them here’my heart comdemned me.As my cerebrum replayed my tragic past,stream of tears ran across my face,but I nabbed them with my hanky, at my cheek, before they became obvious.Now that I am all alone in the world, I wondered if my life would ever be the same.I lost a treasure, I had lost the gem of love in my life.

When I arrived finally at my destination,Akowonjo,I dropped from the bus. Slowly and steadily, I walked down to Ayobami,just two streets from the bus-stop.I was about to enter the unpainted- bungalow building of No 4 Ayobami street, my abode,when a boy ran up to me with a letter.He stooped respectfully and handed me the letter.’Thank you Kayode’, I said in gratitude,raising the letter towards my eye-lid.A moment letter, I was in my one-room apartment,rented for me by the church.This has been my haven over two months.

‘I hope justice will be served now’I soliloquized. as I read the letter,which was a court summone. I was reminiscing again.

When my family died; I shed tears for days.I just had to get justice for their death. I reported at nearest police station,but they did nothing,since it was a government thing.The only thing I recovered from the fire was my british passports,so I wrote to british consulate about the incident and also copied the commisioner of the police.I later appeared at Commissioner’s office,voicing my anger because my case was left untreated.But I was treated with fire – they locked me behind bars and threw away the keys. They later wrote the british consulate and other authories, telling them that I was insane.However,I will be kept away for treatment and also not to put the public in danger.

I spent 3 months in jail. When was I released: nothing was on me and no where to go. I washed car at the car-wash garage before I could get something to eat.it was one of our customers at the garage, who introduced a church.He has been a miracle working God.Immediately the pastor prayed for me,I received my liberty. First it was british consulate that called,they wanted me to come over to abuja, for sanity test. The church provided my flight fare,to and fro. I was confirmed sane after the test and they decided to fight my battle for me. The result came with this court summone.

As I lie in bed this night,I am thinking of tomorrow. Thinking of my woes and foes, of yesterday and tomorrow. Wondering if justice will be served or tampered,wallowing in unrealistic future. I couldn’t just help shedding tears because the wound of the past is unhealed and the battle of tomorrow is to be feared.’Oh God help me,let the light that shines tomorrow, shines on my life’ I prayed.

 

 



One thought on “The Unfortunate” by adurodolu (@Durodolu-John-Adewale)

  1. Hmm! Well, nice plot, without the errors, that is.

    * Abbreviations? no way! e.g u, yrs.
    * The dialogue and narration sometimes were not clearly defined.
    * A space ought to follow, after a punctuation mark.
    * Ministry of . . . . . . .?
    * Names (proper nouns) ought to start with a capital letter e.g kyle.
    * Try to read more on the use of punctuations.
    * The exaggerations were a bit too much.

    After typing, try to read through. I read the first three paragraphs more than twice–hard to identify the number of people in the opening scene.

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