CAPTAIN EMEKA: The Civil War

CHAPTER ONE

Sure he had an idea who they were, it wasn't the first time he was being chased by these mean looking folks. He jumped over a pavement that slightly divides the two roads and swiftly entered the preceding road leading to the forest, this road was messy and muddy, you'd very easily stumble on your feet but he still managed to pick up the pace.

The chase went on for quite a while and he was running out of breadth but he had enough still in him to keep the pace as it was. He made his way into the forest that led to where he lived. On other days this was the usual endpoint of the chase, that was because this particular forest was considered an evil forest, the men would stop chasing and start cursing at this point, but this time the chase continued even after he entered the forest, these men were not willing to let him off the hook like that. They followed him into the forest without any form of ambivalence.

He managed to gain some ground as he entered the forest's evasive routes. He made his way up a guava tree that had enough branches to camouflage him.

"Ahh... This mad boy has ran away again". The first man said in the native Yoruba language

"No he was just in front of us let's keep going".The second man caught up with the first and urged that they continued with the chase, the first man obliged seeing they had come a long way already.

They both ran out and was joined by two other men soon after.

After a few minutes had passed he came down from the guava tree with more than a handful of guava fruit in his pockets. He walked slowly, looking back frequently to see if he was being followed. He wouldn't want anyone to come within even ten miles of the wooden hut his grandmother had built, where he lived with his her.

His grandmother an obviously ageing woman had been living in this strange land for the past thirteen years, the exact age of her grandson Emeka.

She had ran away with him from their community in Obosi, Anambra state all the way down here in Ore, Ondo State. Both his parents died in their house, burnt to an ash by the villagers for an offense that wasn't incomprehensible. Foreboding what would be done to the poor helpless baby boy, she took him and eloped to the city of Onitsha. Before she could settle in the city, the villagers sent some men after her. She ran nonstop from Onitsha to Ore where she felt was a safe distance from her home town for her and her grandson.

Emeka walked in on his grandmother lying on the mat, covered from head to toe. It wasn't so unusual, because since she fell ill she had fond an unwittingly anachronistic inclination of covering herself from head to toe. It was late February and the harsh dry harmattan had just ended the whole environment was hot and humid, she fell ill continuously at this time of the year for five years , Emeka was beginning to come in terms with it.

Emeka walked past her and dropped the guava and other things he stole from the market on the stool beside her. He watched her closely and noticed that she was not moving, he moved closer to her and tapped her shoulders lightly

"Mma wake up there's something to eat now". Emeka said expecting her usual questions about how he got what to eat but still she didn't move.

"Mma ... Mma .... wake up now........ Don't play with me ooo I don't know anybody here I'd die if you die". Emeka shook vigorously but she didn't respond, it dawned on him after few minutes of shaking her that she was dead.

If it were possible for tears to raise the dead Emeka's grandmother wouldn't be six, more like three feets below the ground, the hand dug grave was only three feet deep There were no ceremonies just continuous tears.

Emeka grew even thinner, he stayed indoors for two weeks straight eating only guava and cashews.

Before his grandmother had died,, he promised her he'd stop stealing and start doing menial jobs like farm work and other hard labors to get money, but his grandmother had passed now there was no one to worry about him any more, or so he thought.

Emeka stood up from his mat that morning, but for the first time in two weeks he stood with intent. He hated that he was going to resolve to stealing again but his little brain had given him no other option. So he walked out of the forest as usual headed straight for the market. He got to a*****e and picked up a loaf of bread and placed it in his bag, he was on the roll again moving slowly but firmly so as to not attract any attention.

He moved to a nearby store and picked up some nuts, that would have been okay for the morning, but prodded by covetousness he maintained his slow walk down to the next store and before he could place his hands on anything a big firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"Biko ma kpa mi" he said with the mixture of both Igbo and Yoruba language out of grief.

The grip tightened as Emeka tried to wiggle free.

The man that gripped him was in his complete guard regalia. He lifted Emeka up like he was lifting a leaf.

"you,.. you're in the soup today" he said in his native Yoruba dialect and continued to the palace. An unexpected audience gathered at the scene and escorted them to the palace. The audience were divided into three groups of gossips one that condemned him, one that pitied him and so were willing to plead on his behalf and then there was the third parties, these ones didn't put much interest in the case only that they loved to talk, so they joined in the excursion.

The meeting at the palace was cut short by the noise coming from outside the palace. There was a panic until Tolani the vicious guard that caught Emeka came in holding him by the shoulder

"My king. This is the boy that have been stealing from the market. I caught him today at the market in the very act.

The perplexed look on the King's face smoothened a little little then he said.

"Kneel down boy" and then to Tolani he said.

"You've done really well thank you Tola"

Everyone in the chamber looked at Emeka with a level of resentment, the whole room was filled with a kind of aura that spelt perturbations

The meeting was held before his very own eyes, what should be done to him.

"If we kill this boy. We won't be gaining anything" Chief Omobola said in his desperate plea to save the boys life.

"What do you mean by that, this boy had been a thorn in the flesh of the marketers. He should be punished severely, and you know better than everyone else know that death is the penalty for theft". The head chief said angrily.

Seeing that they were unwilling to let the boy off on a mild punishment, he came up with an idea to save

"I'm not saying we should just leave him. If we'd punish him then we should gain from it too"

"What are you saying?. How do you mean gain". This time it was the Oba speaking.

"Oba you will live long and prosper as king.." He said and then he added

"The slave traders will be here by morning tomorrow. We could gain off this boy by selling him to them".

There were small talks here and there but it died down in a bit because the idea was palatable to them all, he was the only one close enough to the white people.

The meeting lasted about an hour and then everyone went home. Emeka was kept in the custody of the king.

Chief Omobola went back to his white friend, Lady Agnes. He had easily built friendships with the whites that came to the village because of the fluency in his English. He finished his schooling in Cambridge and came out with first class in English language.

"My Lady Agnes. It's been a while since I spoke with you... Regardless of my reason for coming here, seeing you again is a real pleasure". He said immediately she opened the door for him to come in.

Lady Agnes founded the movement to stop child illiteracy in the village, so the villagers both young and old saw her as a matriarch.

"My old friend Bola" She had grown fond of calling him Bola over the years.

"Spill the beans, why are you here. You hardly ever visit me these days, except you need something of course.". Lady Agnes said with a look that showed her completely packed fake white set of teeth and her now wrinkled dimples, she walked round her office table to her seat and Chief Omobola followed suit.

"I'm sorry my lady but there's this issue on ground and I can go to no one else but you because of your generosity, I know you'd be more than happy to help in this case. It's about a young boy that would be sold tomorrow". Chief Omobola said leaning towards the table in front of him.

"What's with the boy"

"Please help me.....Take him with you whenever you are going back to the UK. You could come buy him tomorrow. This boy has a great future, I know it. Please My lady. I'm sure God wouldn't want him to be a slave.". He said and extended his hands holding a bag of cowries.

" this would entice them".