30/04/2013 Tuesday Tales
Let’s talk about something happier
I suggest, feeling guilty for having asked him about Biafra in the first place.
Driver Umoh’s story comes out in
bursts and pauses of anger and silence like one might imagine the staccato sound
of an AK47 firing off rounds, a sound eerily familiar to the storyteller. He
can’t tell me his age when the story opens saying instead, “it was in nineteen
hundred and sixty seven.” He was three years from meeting and marrying his
wife. It was a time when he had two choices. He could join the Nigerian army
and war against armed extremists or arm himself alongside extremists and kill
anyone and everyone standing in the way of an independent Biafra. He chose the
army. Violent random killing in the name
of Biafra was too much for Umoh to understand much less support. “They went
into a village near my own and killed everyone – elders and men, women and
babies and children…everyone. Bodies were everywhere. For a month I buried those
people.” Horror carries in the hollow of his voice and the steely hard of his
eyes. This is the petite gentle man I watched playing and cooing with a baby
last week in delighted abandon. A proud father of many and grandfather of many
more. A man still haunted by memories that would send most of us over the edge.
He tells me about the
out-of-Calabar village weekend wedding for his nephew and how he showered the
newlyweds with heaps of gifts including a kitchen tray, hair dryer and sewing
machine.
Somehow we get
talking about his own village. He’s the clan chief, complete with hat and
walking stick and shoes. “I will bring my shoes to show you,” he offers, “they
are very beautiful.” No doubt.
He also tells of a
jealous younger brother, a wicked wicked man identified by “the Church” as a
deal maker with the devil. A man who sold Umoh’s land out from under him while
he was away at work. A man who regularly threatens death on Umoh and those
around if Umoh refuses to pay up the N10,000 or whatever wicked brother decides
he needs to keep himself in beer. A man Umoh believes will one day successfully
poison him just as his father and uncles were poisoned to death.
Iye. Nigeria is one weird
weird world.
Sidebar: I have these itsy bitsy teeny weeny incredibly itchy bites
showing up around my belly around to my back. Don’t know what they are or where
they’re coming from. They seem
especially aggravating at night. Bed bugs?
2 comments:
FYI, Wikipedia on bed bugs: "Their bites are not usually noticed at the time. They develop slowly to low itchy welts that may take weeks to go away. They prefer exposed skin, preferably the face, neck and arms of a sleeping individual. The neck and jaw line are particularly favored places to feed." [Figured it would be faster for me to look that up from the sounds of your online response time.]
thanks E. It's not bed bugs then, They're all around my torso. I'm thinking it's prickly heat.
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