One day, I overheard my uncle and some of his friends making plans to go to war on the nomads living amongst us, I kept quiet besides that was what I was becoming very skilled at doing. The crops were trampled on by the cattle, and this caused poor yield and low sales. The Farmer’s union which my uncle headed, complained to the local government chairman, but there was no positive reply. The government was quiet too, apparently, I wasn’t the only entity skilled in the act of silence too. I was there when the riot was formed and there when it was effected. I didn’t care, my life has stopped as far as I was concerned till the Day of Horrors.
It was New Year’s Day, it was also my sixteenth year birthday, and my uncle and aunt went to church, I prepared the feast meal gladly, my aunt was eight months pregnant, and she had been pleasant to me since August when she discovered she was three months gone. She and her husband changed overnight and started caring about me, talked about sending me to school, and inquired about my health every now and then. Perhaps they were feeling guilty at what they did to me or they were just trying to be on my good side before I use my witch powers to kill their babies. My aunt was so excited that she told me whenever the baby was moving. She even thanked me these days for everything she sent me to do. Okay, I was getting relaxed a bit in the house but that did not rule out my anger for them.
In the afternoon, while my aunt and uncle entertained visitors, I went to the shop because I wasn’t, particularly in a festive mood. Then while I was still setting up the fruits on the racks, I heard different gunshots and people started running, clangs of machetes and screams from every angle, I joined them and ran straight home. When I got inside, I saw my uncle scrambling out with his old rickety gun, the visitors ran out trying to get back to their families and ensure their protection. My aunt went into premature labor, I tried to help her but I was clueless, she pushed and pushed, I was scared, I tried to help her put some pillows behind her, but the gunshots were getting louder and nearer, she pushed the more, trying to do it quietly.
The house was just a room, kitchen, and parlor with wooden doors and a toilet and bathroom outside the house. I heard the screams from the other apartments and the sound of knives slashing throats and gunshots here and there. She motioned me to run and leave her I couldn’t, even with all my hate for her, I closed the door to the room where she was and hid behind the door, I tried to be still, but my body couldn’t, I caught the smell of blood and sweat and their distinct stench from unwashed clothes. Their voices drew closer, then they passed but suddenly the door was knocked down. I was shaking vigorously and struggled to stifle a scream, I pressed myself to the wall and kept still, my aunty screamed out, and he walked towards the room, I had to distract him, I screamed a little, and he immediately turned my direction.
I gasped, and I shook vigorously, my bouts affecting the door, I struggled to suppress the cry but it came out nevertheless, I begged him not to shoot me, he smiled, dragged me out of my hiding place, dropped his gun, and grabbed me, I struggled helplessly and screamed all to no avail. He pushed me down and tore my clothes and forced himself inside me and from thence, I knew that Ter cursed me with this body and that he cared nothing for me. He pushed back and forth, I struggled so hard, I tore at his face, but he cared not, when he was satisfied, he pushed his weight on me. "Yarinya, my wife, Miyetti Allah”, he said smiling through his broken teeth, I didn’t know what that meant I was weak and disgusted, I later found out it was the name of their sect.
He stood up from me and went towards the door adjusting his clothes. I got up with my last strength, grabbed the side stool nearby, and before he could turn, I hit him on the head, and he fell down. I hit him again and again till he gave up. I was not yet satisfied. Anger was boiling in me, I grabbed the stove emptied the content on him, and set him ablaze. And just then, I heard the baby cry, Then I ran to the room my aunt was bleeding profusely, she begged me to take the child and run and she breathed heavily, I could see life leaving her body as she continued to bleed profusely. I covered her body, I looked at the child, it was bloodied and sticky all over I wrapped it in a wrapper and ran out of the door. I had killed a man, I’m a murderer! Why did I feel justified? I staggered with the wall as support. I saw a uniformed man from the corridor,
“Help!” I screamed, “Help!” “Please, Help!” I had inhaled so much smoke. I think he looked my way, my head became light, and soon darkness covered in.
I woke to the stench of blood and sweat in a clinic. I felt intense pain, especially in my lower waist region, I surveyed the environment, and people were writhing in pain, was I in hell? I asked myself, I tried to recall the events that took place and all I saw was me setting somebody on fire. A lady in white approached me,
‘What’s this place, I asked
‘It’s a Gbajimba camp, you are safe here, all of you, the survivors of the raid.’ She replied. Then everything came back to me,
‘Where’s my baby?’ I asked,
‘Oh! She’s very fine, she’s premature and by some kind of miracle she didn’t die, she’s in the incubator in the hospital. Do you want to see her?’ she replied
‘What’s an incubator? I asked her
‘A kind of tube that protect premature baby just like the womb’
‘Is she safe? I want to see her. Take me to her, please.’ I cried,
‘Let me get you cleaned up first.’ She replied. She led me to the bathroom and gave me cleaning supplies.
After I had washed up, she took me to the intensive care unit and led me through various babies in glass tubes and stopped at one, and my heart stopped for a while, I watched her little breathing body and tears came rolling down, the nurse comforted me, she was also in moved to tears too
‘How did we arrive here?’ I inquired.
‘you and this child were saved by some sort of miracle, not few minutes after you blacked out, the police came by and you were the first sight on the corridor holding the baby so close, ambulance was close by and that’s was it, but there’s something you must know’ she said.
In the end, I found that I had HIV as a result of the infected man that raped me. She told me ways to maintain myself so that I could live a long time and gave me some drugs, I couldn’t wrap my head around the events but I was glad I survived, it was a bittersweet victory. I’m glad I killed him in the end, not waiting or trusting Ter, who was not interested in my case, I am now an HIV patient, a disease I’ve joked about in the past. If someone had told me then that I would later contact it, I would have doubted, however here I am.
For the first week, in camp, I moved like a zombie, my first reaction was when a Christian preached and mentioned that Ter loved me and understood what I was going through, I didn’t believe him, and I told him never to come back to this part of the camp ever again to this part of the camp until he has gone through the same ordeal as me. I’m not Ter’s child, no father treats his child as such, he argued about Ter’s son and his suffering and how we were all children of Ter, and I told him that it’s a myth, I used to believe it but now I’m Ter’s error, a terror. I said, some group of girls supported me and we beat up the missionary.
The camp leader called me to inquire about the event and I acted as my friends told me, I seduced him and he fell, that was my first willing submission to sex, he gave me some provisions and told me that anyone who troubled me would face his wrath. I had given him HIV, and he didn’t know, I’m really Ter’s Error- Terror. I felt like a gorgon, Medusa, the beautiful lady that turns men to stone from one glare. I didn’t like the feeling but I was cursed by Ter already to this fate, I hated living, but my baby in the tube, my source of inspiration.
The group of girls I bonded with, bitter from their own experience, introduced me to night work, we found a way to sneak out of camp and get to the streets of Makurdi at night. I made five thousand naira on the first day and I was surprised, I didn’t like the work but I have to do it, for Adiya, my baby in the tube. Some days I made less, but I was saving the money, I wanted to rent a house where Adiya and I would live, and I would also have a shop and start life afresh. In two weeks, I would take Adiya from the hospital and I would be given a little ‘bacha’ to myself as promised by the camp leader, I had him wrapped around my fingers.
I sit here now washing my night work clothes of yesterday, and this middle-aged man winks at me and beckons me to come, he doesn’t look like a victim or survivor or displaced, he looks like he was directed here, I hope he was also informed of the charges, I don’t know what he wants but I’m ready for a bargain, anything for Adiya. I spread my clothes and he was still there waiting patiently, I go to him,
“Are you Onahi?”
“Yes,” I replied,
“I need to see you”, I followed him and I wondered if he was my Perseus, the one that finally slays me, or if he would be my next stone victim.
The End
Lost??? Start from the beginning
Written by Rosemary Ugwuogo aka Dauntless
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