The LONGEST WAIT

Chapter 8

Tim's Stories' THE LONGEST WAIT

CHAPTER 8

Ahmed and I were about four hours into hour journey when nightfall started approaching. We were in the Libyan desert and our destination was the port city of Misrata. As you know, the desert is very hot in the day and extremely cold at night. Our horse was tired and needed a break because it had been riding all afternoon and well into the evening. We had to rest it a bit and give it some food and water. If we kept pushing it without rest, we were going to run it into the ground.

Ahmed looked for a convenient place amongst some boulders and we decided that we would rest there for the night and continue in the morning.

"This is dangerous territory." Ahmed warned me. "You have to be alert at all times. Danger can be lurking at every corner."

"Thank you, Ahmed. I will be careful."

"Check to see if your gun is loaded." He spoke.

"It is, I have checked already."

"Alright."

Ahmed provided two camp mats. He gave me one and he took the other and we both slept beside the fire we had lit. It was about midnight now and I suddenly woke up. I couldn't tell what woke me up but somehow my instincts for danger had been alerted. I checked my gun, and it was still with me. I looked towards Ahmed, and he was sleeping soundly and even snoring. I looked further around and that was when I noticed it. There was one particular boulder that looked like a man and from my recollection before we went to bed, that boulder wasn't there. That meant we had an intruder.

I pulled my gun to fire but just at that same moment, the boulder, which was actually a man, realized that I was awake and was going to shoot. It quickly tried to change its location, but it was too late. I fired two shots, and he became a boulder again. The sound of my gun woke Ahmed and for a moment he was confused and started running helter-skelter.

"Get on the ground, Ahmed, lied down." I cried.

I had realized that there was more than one intruder. In fact, there were about ten of them and they all opened fire on us simultaneously. I dived behind a boulder just in time. A minute later, a dozen or so bullets would have entered my body. Everywhere became still for a moment as we all tried to determine each other's location in the darkness. The silence was disturbed by renewed gunfire. This time, it was from Ahmed. He had an Ak 47 with him and was spitting bullets.

From my location, I saw five or six men dropped dead and their horses became disoriented. The remaining men, realizing that they had met stiff resistance and the tide was against them, ran in different directions. One came towards me without knowing that I was hiding behind a boulder. I put a bullet in his head, and he dropped dead. His horse, however, continued galloping at top speed. The remainder of them escaped unhurt.

"Are you alright, Ahmed." I asked Ahmed.

"Yowa!" He replied.

"Thank God. What do we do now?"

"We have to change our sleeping positions. In fact, we can no longer sleep. We have to stay up all night and ride very early in the morning. This is because by morning, this place will be swarming with many more of them, seeking vengeance."

"But who are they?"

"Those are Bedouins. They are desert raiders. They came to rob us. It was a good thing you were awake. They usually don't leave any survivors."

That was how our sleep was interrupted. We were forced to stay up all night for fear of being attacked again while we were asleep. By 5:00 AM, we hit the road again. This time around, we had two horses. We had succeeded to capture one of the horses of the bandits. We rode all day, stopping only briefly to rest the horses. We couldn't take chances just in case we were being tracked. By late evening, we reached the outskirts of the port city of Misrata.

Misrata was a big and beautiful city. However, I had no time to enjoy it's beauty just yet and neither did I have the opportunity to. That was because I was still in the outskirts. Ahmed took me into a house and introduced me to some men. There were three of them and they all wore turbans and were as bearded as Ahmed. He spoke to them in Arabic.

"Laqad'ahdarat majmuea." Ahmed spoke.

"'Ahsant." One of the three men said. "Ayi jinslatin?"

"Nayjiriun."

"Hadha jid. Aitikadh altartibat allaazimat lah liatima taminuha. Sayahsul ealaa sir jayid."

"Naeam Syid."

Arabic is no one's mate here but what he was actually saying was that he had brought a commodity from Nigeria. He said I was going to fetch a good price. That meant I was going to be sold. Ahmed had betrayed me. I was to be stripped of my weapon, taken into the city and held captive until a suitable customer showed up to buy me. However, because I couldn't understand Arabic, I had no idea what was going on.

We are given food to eat and after we had eaten, they offered us wine. After we had eaten and drunk, we were shown where to sleep. I went to bed innocently without knowing that that would be my last day as a free man for a while. When I woke up the next day, I realized that the sun was already up. I also realized that I was not in the comfortable room in which I had spent the night. I was now in the back of a truck with other people of the same skin colour as me. We were about to live for somewhere in the city. I tried to get up but realized that I had been chained.

It took another twenty minutes for me to realize what had just happened. My wine last night was spiked. It made me fall asleep deeply. During my unconscious state, I was robbed of all my personal belongings including my weapon and documents. I was then chained hands and feet and put in a truck with other captives. I was going to be sold. Ahmed had betrayed me. My instincts had warned me about him. Now, my worst fears had come true. I wondered if it was the same ordeal my poor wife had gone through.

Our captives were all Libyans and they spoke in Arabic. I couldn't understand what they were saying. Within the tight confines of the back of the truck, I strained with great effort to see if I could locate Ahmed amongst the men and guess what? I saw him.

"Ahmed!! I shouted. You traitor. You betrayed me."

"Buchi, it is part of my trade. I am only doing my job. Be of good behaviour and no harm whatsoever will come to you." He smiled.

"I promise you; I will come back for you. I will make you pay for this. I trusted you." I was sick with anger.

"Goodbye comrade and may Allah protect you." He said and went out of view.

A few minutes later, the driver of the truck got in and the engine came to life. The truck started moving first at a measured pace and then at top speed. I looked around me and almost shed tears. There were several Sub-Saharan Africans in the truck. There were men and women and even children. They had all left their home countries hoping to get to Europe through the Mediterranean. They had all ended up in the hands of human traffickers. They all looked terrible and hopeless. I made up my mind that come rain or highwater, I was going to free myself from this b*****e and make Ahmed pay for betraying my trust in him.

Many times, during our journey, we stopped at various checkpoints along the way. Some of these checkpoints were manned by the regular military and some were manned by members of the many militia groups that operated in the area. Each time we approached a checkpoint, my heart would jump with excitement and anticipation. But the results were always the same disappointment. They were all corrupt and didn't even bother to check the trucks. The driver already had their bribes ready for them. They were all part of the trafficking business.

At last, we got to our destination. It was a big building that looked like a prison. In fact, it was a prison. The only difference was that it was not operated by the government. It was operated by criminals and human traffickers. Someone came to the back of the truck and ordered all of us to get off the truck. Slowly, we all got off the truck. All the men were chained, and the women and children weren't. In a single fine, we were all led through the gates of the prison. When we were safely inside, our chains were removed.

I now realized what had happened to us. I now realized that what I had been watching on CNN and on YouTube videos was finally happening to me. In the prison were hundreds of men, women and children. Most of them, in fact about ninety percent of them were Sub-Saharan Africans. They lived in terrible conditions. There was little food and no water. People were dirty and stinking, and the guards were very hostile.

I was led into a cramped cell which I shared with five other people. The cell was very untidy and reeked of urine and feces. My cellmates reeked so badly that I doubted if they had had a decent bath in a year. The cell was very hot and there was very little room for ventilation.

On my first night, around 2:00 AM, I was awakened from sleep by the desperate and terrible screams of a man. I was frightened and asked my cellmates what was happening.

"It's a normal phenomenon here. Those are people from whom ransoms have been demanded." A cellmate told me.

"So, why are they being tortured?" I asked.

"They haven't paid their ransoms, of course. They will be tortured until they pay."

"But how do they expect them to pay? They have been locked up, all their money and personal effects taken away from them. They do not work. How are they going to be able to raise money?" I was confused.

"Let me tell you how they do it." That was another cellmate speaking. "They hold you captive and contact your family and ask for a huge amount of money for your freedom. If your family pays, good for you. You are let go. However, in the meantime, while waiting for your family to comply, you are being tortured daily in the most unnatural way. Some people even die before their poor families back home are able to raise the money for their freedom."

"What if your family doesn't pay?" I asked, shivering.

"That is the end of you. You will be killed or sold. May terrible things happen here. Women are violated and men are treated in the unkindest way. I regret ever undertaking this journey. I miss my home. I miss my wife and children. If by the grace of God, I go back to my country alive and well, I will never risk my life again like this."

I stayed silent for a while, trying to analyze and digest the whole thing. The screams from the man being tortured could still be heard from about four cells away.

"How about you guys?" I asked. "Have your ransoms been paid?"

"They haven't come for us, yet. But they will and when that time comes, we are going to suffer the same fate if our families don't comply. It's a hopeless situation and we can only rely on God, only in Him." The cellmate told man in a resigned way.

"I hope I don't go through the same thing." I mumbled to myself but the cellmates heard me.

"Hope? Do not trust to hope, my brother. It has deserted this ungodly place. There is no hope in this hellhole of a prison. Your time will come soon. Your only prayer now should be that you die before the time reaches. This is because what they will put you through will be worse than death."

I now knew that I was in hell and I had to look for a means. I was not just an ordinary man. I was a militant. I was Buchi, a veteran of the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND). I was a member of a movement that sparked fear in the hearts of many. I couldn't allow myself to be tortured like that for nothing. What crime had I committed. I had left my homeland and my beautiful family just to go find my wife. I hadn't't bargained for all these.

I looked around me and realized that what my cell mates lacked was hope and will power. Those were things I still had in abundance. The thought of finding my wife and meeting her again gave me hope. The thought of my children gave me hope and the God that I served gave me a strong will power. In the darkness of the cell, I bowed my head, closed my eyes and started planning for my escape.

TO BE CONTINUED...