The LONGEST WAIT

Chapter 11

Tim's Stories' THE LONGEST WAIT

CHAPTER 11

I couldn't believe I was seeing Ahmed again. I was both angry but happy. I was angry because he had followed me all the way to Tripoli just to harm me and I was happy because I now had the opportunity to pay him back for all what he had put me through because of his betrayal.

"Ahmed, what do you want with me again? Is it not enough that you already betrayed me?"

"You i***t. You thought you would escape from me? Do you know the trouble you have put me into by burning down the prison?"

"Who cares what trouble you find yourself in?" I asked as I got up from the ground. "You could go to hell for all I care."

I rushed towards him, but he pointed his pistol at me, and I stopped in my tracks.

"I am going to kill you. I had to escape before the prison authorities got me. They were going to blame me and punish me for bringing someone like you to them. Why couldn't you just die, Buchi?"

"So, what are you waiting for? Shoot me if you are a man." I dared though I knew I was taking a big risk. I would be dead if he did fire because I was at such a close range.

"You asked me to shoot. So be it, then. May Allah receive your soul." He said and pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He tried again but nothing happened. The gun seemed to have been jammed. That was my opportunity and I seized it. I ran towards him and grabbed him by the throat. My aim was to strangle him. But he fought back viciously and gave me a few punches on my face. I fought back and landed a couple of punches too that stunned him and made him stagger backwards.

He realized that he couldn't match my punching skills and switched to grappling. He grabbed me in a bear hug and attempted to drain life out of me. I countered by headbutting him on his mouth, and it drew blood immediately. The pain made him to release his hold on me. I shoved him backwards with both of my hands and then gave him a karate chop on the side of his neck that sent him flying backwards and landing hard on his back. As he attempted to get up, I picked up his gun and pointed at him.

"Please, don't kill me." He begged.

"Do you deserve to live, Ahmed? You have caused me too much trouble. You deserve to die."

"Please, I was just a pawn in the game. I work for my superiors. Please, Buchi."

"It was thanks to you that I almost rot in jail. I thought we were cool. Why did you want me to die, Ahmed?"

In order to muffle the sound of the gun, I picked an empty plastic water bottle, put the nuzzle of my gun in it and fired twice at Ahmed. Ahmed was hit twice in the chest. He grabbed the place where I had shot him and gently raised his head to look at me. With surprise and pain in his eyes, he gave me that why-did-you-do-this-to-me look and then his face became a death mask. He fell on the sand and died. When I was sure he was really dead, I rolled his body into the sea and he sank below, never to rise again.

What actually happened was that Ahmed had chosen a very unreliable gun, a revolver, to attack me with. From my experience in guns and ballistics, the revolver was a very unreliable gun and that was the gun that Ahmed had used. Two times he had pulled the trigger, but the gun didn't fire. That was because there were bullets in the magazine, but none had entered the chamber. However, when I fired at him, the magazine had rotated at there were now bullets in the chamber. So, I was able to kill him.

I adjusted my ruffled dress and went straight to the UN building. I was afraid that someone might have noticed my altercation with Ahmed and had called the police. However, when I got to the UN building without any incident, I became convinced that no one had seen our scuffle. Ahmed was now food for the fishes. Mr. Lawson wasn't home when I got back. So, I went into my room and waited for tomorrow to reach so that I could go to Lampedusa to look for my wife.

It was the next day now and we were already in the ship and on our way to the Island of Lampedusa. The Island is just about seventy miles from Libya, and it is an Italian territory. It is a favourite destination for migrant boats since it is closer than mainland Europe. That was where I was told Chisom had gone, and that was where I was heading to.

I spent most of the journey in a silent mode. I was thinking and reflecting about my family back home. I wondered how my children were doing. It was holiday now and they wouldn't be going to school. That would make them miss me the more. I decided that I would call them first chance I got. I really need to know what was happening back home. I was so deep in thoughts that I didn't notice Mr. Lawson approaching me from behind.

"You look deep in thoughts, Mr. Buchi. Is everything alright?" He asked.

"I am thinking of my old mother and my children, Mr. Lawson."

"What do you think they could be doing now?" He asked, smiling.

"It's almost evening now. That means my mum will be preparing the evening meal and my children will be helping her. I miss them all so much. I pray that my family becomes complete again."

"It will, Mr. Buchi, it will." Mr. Lawson said, placing an assuring arm over my shoulder.

Two hours later, the Island of Lampedusa came in sight. I was happy and nervous. I knew at any moment now; I was going to see my wife Chisom. It would be an unimaginable joy for me to see my wife again. When we got to shore, our baggage was carried by some native men waiting in a vehicle marked with the UN insignia. When we got to a building, we were all ushered in, and I was given a room on my own to spend the night. Mr. Lawson told me to calm down. He said tomorrow, we would begin making enquiries about my wife.

I couldn't sleep the whole night. I kept rolling from one end of the bed to the other. I couldn't wait for dawn to come so that I could go look for my beloved Chisom. I stayed up all night and was only able to sleep around 4:00 AM. By 8:00 PM, I was awoken by a hard knock on my door. It was Mr. Lawson. He said I should freshen up and get prepared. He was going to take me to someone who could have information about my wife.

We were driven into the city center of the small Island by the same native driver who had driven us from the shore. He drove for about ten minutes before stopping in front of a white house. We knocked on the door and it was answered by an elderly man of about seventy years. He was average height, bald and had a thick and bushy grey beard. His name was Orlando.

Orlando asked us to sit down and offered us coffee. I couldn't take anything because I was nervous. Mr. Lawson, however, gladly accepted his and started sipping on it immediately.

"Welcome to my home." He spoke.

"Thank you, Mr. Orlando."

"So, how may I help you two gentlemen?" He asked.

"This here is Mr. Buchi. He is from Nigeria, and he is on a quest to find his wife. Last time we checked, we were told she had sailed to this Island in a migrant boat. That is why we are here. We asked around and were told that you were the right person from whom we could get valuable information." Mr. Lawson explained.

"I see. Yes, you have come to the right place. Many migrant boats come to this Island every week. From here, they continue their journey to mainland Italy. I and my men run a small organization to help these migrants. We provide them with clothing, food and other basic necessities. We also register every one of them so that in case of a tragedy at sea, which unfortunately is a regular event, we would be able to identify the missing ones." Mr. Orlando spoke.

"So, you are saying that you might have information about my wife?" I asked, excitedly.

"Yes, that is a huge possibility. What is her name?"

"Chisom Ikechukwu."

He turned on his laptop, waited for it to boot and then typed my wife's name on the search bar of his registry. The name popped up immediately and he smiled.

"Aha!! Here we have it. Chisom Ikechukwu. That is your wife. Please look at the picture beside her name if it is really her." He said, turning the laptop around so that I could take a look. I recognized her, of course. It was indeed Chisom.

"Yes, Sir. It is her. That is my wife."

"That is good. Now, I will take you to where the migrants are kept. It is some kind of a refugee camp/detention center. Let's go find out if your wife is there."

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much."

The three of us got into the car we had brought and drove to the detention center. When we got there, we were introduced to the authorities. After we have been identified, we were led into an office where we met the superintendent of the facility. We explained to him why we had come. After we had finished explaining, he shook his head and told us that Chisom was not at the facility.

"How's that possible, Sir." I said, sweating in spite of the air conditioner of the room. "We were told that she was here."

"Yes, she was here but you guys are two days too late." The superintendent told us.

"How do you mean, Sir? What do you mean by we are too late?"

"Just two days ago, some migrants mostly from Sub-Saharan Africa, escaped this facility and sailed to Italy in an inflatable boat. Your wife, Chisom we noticed, was one of them."

"Jesus Christ!! Sir, how was that possible?" I asked, going down on my knees in frustration, tears rolling down my eyes.

"There are smugglers and human traffickers all over this Island. They might have made a connection with one of them. I hope they are safe because this is a rough season for seagoers. Many boats capsize every day, and all their occupants perish. Let's hope your wife is safe."

That was the beginning of new trouble for me. Just when I thought I had found my wife, I had missed her by a few days. She had embarked on the dangerous journey to Italy in an unreliable vessel. I was confused. What was I going to do. There was only one way. I had to go to Italy to look for her. Even if I didn't see her because she might have drowned, at least, I will have information about her.

When we were outside the building, Mr. Lawson walked up to me.

"What do you do now?" He asked.

"I am going to Italy to find her."

"I cannot stop you, Mr. Buchi. You have to complete your quest. However, for me, my journey ends here. Tomorrow, I go back to Tripoli. Farewell, Mr. Buchi and may you succeed in your quest."

"Thank you, Sir. You have done a lot for me already. I am immensely grateful and forever in your debt. If God allows and some day we meet in Nigeria, I am going to buy you a bottle of Odogwu Bitters." I said, smiling.

"What is that?" He laughed.

"It's a Nigerian drink, Sir. Very medicinal and you will enjoy it."

"Alright, if you say so. Let's go back to the building."

We got into the car and drove back. While the driver, Mr. Orlando and Mr. Lawson enjoyed the beautiful scenery of the Island, I saw nothing. In my mind, I was already preparing my next move which was a trip to Italy to look for my beloved wife.

TO BE CONTINUED...