It was late in the night. I was in my half lit room at Odim, studying with my candle. For some reason, I felt a strange presence, like something was hovering around but I wasnt going to be distracted, I had a lot to cover before the exams I was to have the next morning. I was seated on my plastic chair, my table faced to the wall, backing my door. Just then, I heard my door knob click and the door began to slide open, slowly. The door made a lazy yawning sound as it rolled on its hinges. A gust of the chill Nsukka wind blew in, troubling my candle light temporarily. Whoever or whatever had opened my door, wasnt about to close it and I wasnt about to turn around to find out who, either. I was bent over the table and had my eyes focused on my books. But at this time, truth be told, I wasnt really seeing any words in my books, only blank pages. People sometimes describe it as being calmly scared. Thud! Something dropped. I jerked. I grabbed my Nokia phone, turned on the torchlight and swung round to see who or what was disturbing my peace. I saw Ogute Godwin, my activist neighbour, had collapsed, he had his back to door, his legs spread apart and his head tilting to his left shoulders. His lips seemed to move, but I could not make out any words. He had embarked on a hunger strike to protest the hike in school fees. It was his day five (5) without water or food. All our pleading with him to go about his activism some other way had failed- he was a headstrong young man and had assured us solemnly: Im not backing down ever...Im the captain who sinks with the ship! It was a profound Martin Luther King Jnr moment! I rushed to him to see if he was alright. Maybe he had seen a ghost or the school authorities had sent thugs after him- he looked particularly pale. As I tried to take his right hand to check for a pulse, his hand suddenly clasped mine tightly and seemed to pull. I looked at his eyes, they held what I imagined would be deep messages from his soul. Godwin always had profound words. His lips quivered a bit, I knew he wanted to speak so I leaned in and put my ear close to hear his words. They were strained and lightly spoken in between pauses. Dave...A chick...that will grow into a cock, can be spotted the day it is born... Then he seemed to fall asleep. I shook him and called out his name as he was slipping from consciousness. He came to, again and spoke. I think...I have better ideas...on how to fight the authorities...Jesus already died for us all, no need for me to try to steal his glory, by dying. Kindly arrange gala and lacasera for me, abeg!
Posted on: Tue, 21 Oct 2014 13:19:16 +0000
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