Back home in Nigeria, a different sovereighty was in place and seemed to have promises for the populace. Notwithstanding, wreckages of the dilapidated rafters were still lingering about and deleterious to the fleeing minds. All the political detainees had begun gaining freedom. Njama, the journalist and his compatriots were released from detention.
Adanma was happier than before to see her husband back and healthy.
“I thank God for you, my husband. At last you regain your freedom.”
“How have you been coping all this while?”
“You will have to thank mother and father, they really comforted me during your incarceration.”
“We saw hell over there; that’s a story for another day.”
“What are your plans now?”
“I am joining politics. This country is ours and that means we should join hands together to make it a better place for all.”
“Yes of course. I have resolved that already. What’s wrong with that?”
“I am against anything politics. I don’t think you mean what you’re saying.”
“I meant every single word I uttered.”
“One does not toy with politics in this country.”
“Who’s toying with it?”
“A mother hen shrieking out against a hawk who made away with her chick, is not doing so for the hawk to let go of the chick but for the world to hear that she shrieked.”
“Is that proverb for me or somewhat. . .?”
“I have told you, he who knows how to pound, should pound in a mortar and he who does not should pound on the ground,” she interjected and walked into the living-room.
“That’s your business.” retorted Njama.
* * * * *
A caucus of a group had met and decided the group be registered as a political party based on people oriented aspirations, hence, Peoples Party was formed.
Njama had cut his political tooth while an undergraduate at the Eastern University, Nigeria. He stood up to address the caucus.
“All protocols duely observed, may I start by thanking the caucus of this great party for this worthy cause. We have come of age, and it is time we woke up from our slumbers; it is time we began something new; it is time for new leadership in our country. Leadership is what comes from God and we all are leaders.
Life without service to humanity is not a worthwhile living. You owe it a duty to serve the Nation that gave you birth after service to God Almighty.
Talking about who a leader is, a leader is one who has a passion for the people, a leader is one who dares to win a cause for the people, a leader is one who knows the needs and aspirations of the people.
Why am I coming out? I am coming out to give service to humanity, I am coming out because I am involved in mankind, I am coming out because it is time for a change.
My leadership style borders on the servant of the people. I am a servant-leader. I am that servant-leader who has a passion to serve. I am that servant-leader who is a social crusader. I am that servant-leader who is an agent of change. A change that we can trust, a change that we can believe in, a change that is people oriented. Change is not a magic, it is a process.
I am not here for the past, I am here for the future and the time to do that is now.” he emphasized by raising his right index finger. “Let us run through the pages of history so that when the time comes, we shall say a servant-leader was here, that a servant-leader passed through the leadership of this great country of ours. Thank you.”
He sat down and the caucus members broke into rapturous applause, and gave him a standing ovation.
After the caucus session, words went round about Njama becoming the party flag bearer for the presidential election. And the whole nation went agog about the new political party- Peoples Party. PP, for short. The slogan: PP, Progress; Progress, PP became a national anthem.
Then, came a meeting where Njama decided to run for the senate instead.
At the threshold out of the meeting hall, Njama was approached by some journalists.
“Sir, why the sudden change of mind?” queried a journalist.
“There is no sudden change of mind, rather I have decided to play along.”
“Sir, could you expatiate upon what you meant by ‘play along’?”
“Sir. . . Sir, I mean in a nutshell.”
“No more comment,” he pounded down the parking lot and climbed into a newly acquired black SUV and the driver drove off.
* * * * *
In Tangier, Ndu and his friends had completed the fare to Tarifa. Though, the security at the border made it difficult to get through to the sea shore.
A batch left the previous night; surprisingly, a lady Ndu had seen in Nigeria, was amongst those who left with the boat. He could not place where he had seen her back home. He searched all the places he had been to and finally his mind came to a juncture; in Jos, she was John Bull’s neighbour. By then, the boat had sailed away.
The next day, on their way back to their abode, after the day’s menial job, words came to them that a boat was living tonight. When they got to their dwelling, they gathered their trifles and such and waited for midnight to approach.
At midnight, the border barrier was beaten and they made for the shore. The boat’s engine was buzzing when they got there. Boat fare collected, they embarked filled to the brim like potatoes jam-packed in a sack and the boatman began to sail away.
On the crammed boat, the coldness of the Mediterranean was so powerful such that the heat generated amongst them could not keep them warm. The thirty-six passengers were shivering with cold despite in their cardigans.
Ndu bowed his head down as they stood in the boat when the shocking reality hit him again. However, he succeeded in muttering few words to his Chi: “God, I commit this journey into your hand and take absolute control. Amen.”
The sailing was unbearable, becoming a voyage of a sort. The boat seemed to have missed its course; the wave nightmarish. A journey of 35-minute became a point where most promised under their breath to turn a new leaf if they made it alive to Tarifa. The boat was yet to reach the destination after five hour voyage. The cold was getting to a freezing-point; and they froze and trembled stiffly.
Then, appeared a faint light of Tarifa. The boat reached the shore line and stopped. The passengers disembarked save two male refugees, lying still on the boat.
Ndu, Kemoh, and the rest could not help thinking why Anjanu died despite the courage he had exhibited to make it to Europe.