SILENT SCREAMS
The wind blew hard, it had been blowing so hard this days, and all had become restless in its wake, it always whispered something to the trees, it said an adventure was about to begin, and for the very first time, Silent screams would be heard by the deaf, and the aftermath would be seen by only the blind, and the earth nodded in agreement, as curiosity gave way to fear, the priests spoke in hushed tones to their believers, revealing that with the trembling of the forest and the cries of the sky, it was either a king was being born, or one was passing away, how true were their words, for this was the day.
Chapter one - Old beginnings and New endings
The year is two thousand and five, in an old village called Okuye-ama, in the southern part of Nigeria, it is a time of relative peace after seven long years of war with their neighbors, Thorofar-gbene, over a plot of land that separated the two villages, the people of Thorofar-gbene underestimated the warriors and the fighting spirit of Okuye-ama and paid severely for it, it was a bloody war, the deadliest in their history, their warriors, heroes, that were lost in action, the cowards that ran away during the heat of the battle and the villagers that fled were returning home, they were always self-agrandizing their town, and they had missed Okuye-ama so much.
It was a hot afternoon, a Friday, the midsummer heat is unbearable, in the distance someone is approaching on the dusty pathway that led to the village, as gruff as a bear, as the figure approached some of the people going to farms and different endeavors recognized him, "Alayeh! an old lady shouted, they met in an embrace, "Mama Dala" he said, "is it really you? she asked, "yes it is" he answered, they exchanged greetings, "the farm right? he asked, "Yes" she replied, "we will see later" she answered, "alright" he replied, "but where are you coming from? she asked, "Anuku! he answered, he had come all the way from Anuku to Okuye-ama by shank's mare? she wondered.
As she turned around to go, "wait" he said, "what of my wife? "is she still alive he asked? She looked into his eyeballs as if she left something in them, "is she? he asked again, "yes she's alive" she said, "but you are a very wicked man" a whole year after the war, "your wife almost died of pain" "the pain that maybe you are dead and she will not see you again" "Mama Dala" "Mama Dala" "it was not my fault the war was brutal" "you know this, it's a miracle am even alive, but did she marry another, another man, please tell me" he begged, I have already spent enough time here, am late for my farm, she said, please tell me he said, you know the way to her father's house right, go there and find out my dear, please excuse me and she left, for a minute he couldn't move, reality dawned on him, he took a deep breath and continued his journey home.
His complete name was, Timiaremene Okosu Alayeh, the first son of Timiadi Okosu, a fisher man, he was from a family of five, he had a junior brother (Matthew) and a sister (Evelyn) he lost his father before the war to sickness, "cancer" the doctor said and his mother after, to a heart attack, his sister was married to a trader in another village (Isiaku) she went into marriage at a very tender age, at sixteen because of the financial problems of the family, his brother ran away during the war and had since become a mechanic apprentice at Onitsha, he had lost contact with them all now.
Alayeh was a well built man, in his thirties, tall and handsome, as black as a skillet, a member of the Izon tribe of southern Nigeria, he had a dirty looking beard on his chin, and a pointed nose with a coarse voice and the scars on his body told a history of violence, he wore a long sleeved shirt with flowered design, which was missing some buttons and left his inner wear open, he was so lean, his dirty black trousers could accurately tell the wind direction and his old sandals begged to be thrown away from too many years of use, showing thread marks all over, an old sack, in which he carried a few clothes was all he had with him.
He finally got to his compound three hours after talking to Mama Dala, it was a block house close to the town hall, with two rooms and a pallor, it had a powerful stench of feces and urine, after greetings with the neighbors, children nagging and asking what he bought, he dipped his hands in his pocket, selecting from a clip of invisible notes, he brought out fifty naira and gave to the children, there was a celebration as they rushed out to buy biscuits and sweets.
He opened his door, it was just a plank wood in front of an entrance, it was exactly as he left it except for the cobwebs, dust everywhere and the stench, not a single property was left, the door had been broken down and the house raided during the war, this didn't hurt him, he didn't own much anyway after a brief cleaning he sat on the floor tired, one of his neighbour's wife brought him a plate of stew rice and fish, thank you Neti, he said, after settling into the meal within five minutes he had finished it, and was asleep, he woke up from his cat nap in the evening took a bath and went back to sleep, the journey had taken a lot out of him.
It was about four thirty when the cock in old Mister Chiroah's compound began to crow, even at this time nobody got up, mothers and fathers were still too exhausted from the all night sex, and children were still sleeping, tired, because of the late night story telling, till six Am, when even the plants became visible, mothers started waking their children with the cane, everybody rushing to be the first in the bathroom, the women who cooked and sold at restaurants were putting the final touches to their food, warming, steaming and frying, it was a very busy morning.
Alayeh turned on the floor several times before he looked at his wristwatch, "morning already" he said, in a second he was up and he made his way outside and sat on the bare concrete, his veranda, he sat there for a while looking at the rowdiness before him, he was in no rush, he had no special plan for the morning, by eight o clock he was still enjoying the sunrise, he slowly got up from the veranda and went straight to the bathroom, there was soap and even water he used them without even asking who the owner was, he cleaned up his self a bit, he was fresh, he felt new, this he liked.
He went into his house and sat on the floor, for the first time, in a long time, he was thinking what was he going to do, his life, his wife, his house, a source of livelihood, he had nothing, he had lost it all, he wanted to cry but could not, it was as if the tear ducts had stopped functioning from disuse, people say this can happen when you spend years in a war, killing looting and trying not to get killed, you become hardened, had this happened to him, he wondered, the thought was driving him wild.
To be continued.......
War always has been bad, It was a sad story