Kaduna Board of Internal Revenue seals off school in Zaria

In continuation of its drive to  improve in it internally generated revenue, the Kaduna State Board of Internal Revenue yesterday sealed off the Zaria children’s school for it inability to settled it tax liability from 2009 till date which amounted to N2.3million.

In an operation led by  Ado Usman Garba the  head of  enforcement  unit of the board,  which included other  board officials, the  media and security operatives, the board sealed off the  principal’s office and the administrative block with a distrain order  in accordance with section 104 of the personal income tax liabilities ,after officials of the school failed to give out a clear cut on how they intend to settle their accumulated tax liability after various correspondence with the management.

Speaking to newsmen after the exercise the  executive chairman of the board Alhaji Ahmed  Jibril said the exercise is a continues one  and the board had no option than to sealed off the  school as the management has failed to meet up to its responsibility of settling it tax deficit despite their huge  annual generated income. He said the board intends to go round other parts of the state in it bid to improve the state internally generated revenue which will assist the government in meeting up to its promises to the people and help fast track development in the state in general. He called on those still owing the state to as a matter of urgency settle their outstanding tax liability and avoid an embarrassing situation of having their premises sealed.

T.Y Danjuma Foundation partners ACCIF to train disables

A ray of  hope recently shone on some physical  challenged  people living in Kaduna  state has the  T.Y Danjuma Foundation in collaboration with a popular NGO in  the state  the All  Children Charity Foundation (ACCIF)  has promised and finalized arrangement to train  40 most vulnerable people with disabilities in the state on various skills.

This was made known by the Team Leader of ACCIF, Barrister Mrs. Ranti B. Daudu at a media interactive session with stakeholders held at ACCIF training centre Barnawa Kaduna. In a welcome address at the well attendee session, she reinstates ACCIF commitement to assist the physically challenged people in the society and train them to be productive member of the society as well. She informed the gathering that ACCIF was organized 7 years ago as a non – government organization with the purpose of joining hands with stakeholders to promote and defend the rights of the physically challenged children and young people with disabilities such as hearing, visually impaired, physically challenged, autistic, educationally challenged, emotionally disturbed, cerebral palsy, chronic diseases, mental illness and the less privileged.

While enumerating some of the achievements of the NGO which includes the reconstruction of Kaduna State Special Education School Clinic which has over 900 specially challenged students and also commissioned a computer class room for the same school. She said the current collaboration with the T.Y Danjuma foundation was an initiative to stem the tide of the neglect of people living with disabilities who over the years have been neglected from policy issues and welfares schemes.

According to her “  it is important to note that young people living with disabilities have been relatively neglected  from policy issues and welfare schemes, they are confronted with a situation where they are discriminated in area of jobs even when they qualify, emphasis has been on  abled bodied persons, this has created a state of powerlessness, economic burden, negative societal attitude  and constant reliance on others to be their voice and survival, street begging and the female have been sexually exploited and abused.” She noted.  ACCIF, she said with support from the T.Y Danjuma foundation is to train and empower 40 most vulnerable young people living with disabilities in tailoring, computer and shoe making to enhance their capacity for self reliance.

Speaking at the occasion the representative of the Australian consulate Engr. Hermman Hulfnag, who also is a board member of ACCIF, appreciated the initiative and the qualitative skills of the Nigerian physical challenged. He advocated for a free trade shop for the disables as being practiced in Australian and promised to assist the body in whatever capacity necessary and also ensure that their finished products are adequately patronized by his consul and friends.

 In a thank you address, the state chairman of the Joint National Association of People living with Disability, Mallam  Rilwanu Mohammed Abdullahi thanked the organizers and specifically ACCIF for the humanitarian assistance it has been rendering the association over the years and called for  the setting up of a monitoring team to  monitor the progress of the training during and after the exercise.

Inside NNN

Working as a staff of one of Nigeria’s most famous newspapers, the New Nigerian  Newspapers, NNN, has been quite an experience and educative; an experience that no amount of money can ever buy nor take away from me.

 I came into the legendary  publishing house sometime early last year and I met  some group of  enthusiastic hard working men and women who to me are some of the most resilient and patient workforce I have ever come across in my  working career as a journalist. I actually found it hard to believe that some of them had spent over twenty years working for the newspaper and are still working diligently everyday.

One dominating feature of the NNN is its conspicuous gigantic structure, which to me no other newspaper house has till date, despite the fact that the structure was part of the early days of Nigerian independence. I am still marveled at the one -in -town building that houses this famous Nigerian publication.  To be honest, I am still in admiration of Mr. Charles Sharp, the hard working British man who conceptualized and built this magnificent   newspaper company. I wonder how he would feel if he were to visit the NNN today.  My view is that Mr. Sharp would definitely be a disappointed man at the way things have changed in this hitherto vibrant house.

The NNN to me is a resilient working ground where both the building and its workforce have refused to give way despite all the troubles and setback they have been encountering over the years. The structure, just like its workforce ,is still standing and pushing  not minding that those whose responsibilities it is to see to the efficient running of this northern legacy  has since  closed their eyes and ears to its plight and watch as things go further deep down. Show me anywhere else in Nigeria where staff of a government establishment are owed long months of arrears and yet the workers are still found doing their job diligently. Or which other government owed media organization has the luck to have hundreds of men and women with families and other responsibilities and still come to work every day?

 One baffling aspect of my experience in NNN is the fact that some of its staff daily comes to work from long distant part of the metropolis. We have those from Trikania, Nasarawa, Sabo, Kakuri, Barnawa in the southern part of the state, and their counterparts from Mando, Kawo, Rigachukwu, Badarawa, Malali and Tudun Wada in the northern axis of the once liberal state.  All these places are long distances that cost much transport fare and surprisingly the NNN staff still sacrifices and make it to the place of work on a daily basis. They leave their homes daily, with the hope that things might miraculously change one day.

To be honest, I am still baffled at the present situation of this hitherto vibrant newspaper company, which to me is not only an ordinary newspaper publication organization but an institution with authority in the Nigeria media history. There is no way the history of the Nigeria press will be complete without the golden name of NNN standing out at the topmost part of the list boldly. Then what really happened to NNN the publisher of the famous Gaskiya Tafi Kobo, New Nigerian daily, New Nigerian Weekly and New Nigerian on Sunday? What happened to this great establishment that has produced ministers, commissioners, professors, university chancellors, senior special assistants to presidents, governors and other topnotch government officials and heads of various private organizations across the country and beyond? What happened to this famous trustworthy house of news and its strongest weapon of truth? Are those who have benefitted from this great legacy of the Sarduana, Sir Ahmadu Bello and are still alive really listening and seeing what has happened to this unquantifiable bequest?  I am sure if the Sardauna were to have the chance to take a glimpse at this wonderful gift he left the north and Nigeria as a whole, he would definitely find it a bizarre and a big betrayal by the present leadership in the north, on whose hands rests the baton to change the present fortune of this resilient company and its equally resilient workforce and pensioners, who are still working, praying and waiting patiently for a miracle to happen and put a well deserved smiles on their faces.

Should I

Should I close my eyes to reality and pretend that all is well?

No! I believe that the truth is always naked and only the prudent sees it shape.

Should I sell my conscience for cowries and all the vanities in the world?

No! I think nothing is worth my pride and my inner mind.

Should I run away from my worries and pains?

No! I am a human bolder than both.

THE WORLD UNDER SIEGE

The unexpected seems to be happening these days with the sudden rioting going on simultaneously across the globe; From Tunisia to Egypt, Libya, Yemen and Syria. Now we have one of the unthinkable and unforeseen rioting going on in London, one of the world exclusive and civilized democracies.
Again in Israel the rioting has shown its ugly face and the people are shouting for change. This to me is a sign that the unknown can always happen anywhere even in America the home of civility and human right.
This should be a warning and an eye opener to all the world leaders that there is no way injustice will win over justice and truth. The rate at which falsehood and the quest for materialism has taken over the sense of reasoning of most of the world leaders is actually quite alarming.
We have naked hunger and oppression going on in virtually all corners of the globe, yet senseless wars and modern slavery is being encouraged by some myopic leaders across the world.
The world seems to be under siege right now from all angles and its only when we learn how to respect and appreciate one another irrespective of religious, class and colour, we shall always be witnesses to violent rioting, militancy, terrorism and fight for freedom.

Syrian carnage

Crazy -crazy world. The Syrian crisis to me is a crazy one. I think every right thinking human being should stand up against the senseless bloodshed going on in Syria. Only a despot and devilish inclined human would kill his people greedily for power. I hope the Syrian people will have the gut to chase out the  murderous regime of Bashar al-Assad, and I hope the United Nation is watching and ready to charge him and his conspirators for crime against humanity and the Syrian nation.
The entire globe must come out to unite against those dictators  who are desperate to hold on to power even when the voice of the people  are crying loudly against them. We must unite and chase out those despots in Syria and Libya, including all those sit tight visionless rulers in other part of Africa and  Asian.

HUNGER IN AFRICA

I woke up today feeling as if I am not entitle to live on in this vanity  planet as I see and hear millions of my fellow Africans starving to dead  due to hunger.
I am actually feeling terrible that other rich nations and individuals could watch as hundreds of innocent young African children die for lack of portable water and food to keep their body and soul.
I am still asking myself if the purported world super  power are alive and really seeing what is going on in this part of the world. And why the need to keep fighting senseless wars and forceful invasion of various land when millions are daily suffering for lack of mere food and cloth to shelter their weakened body.
What are the justifiable answers most of those who are fortunate to have the means and power to feed these hungry mouths tell their creator at the end of their short stay on earth? God! I wish I could have the huge means to feed those suffering kids in Somalia, Ethiopia and my dear country Nigeria.
I think we are all going to be answerable to the almighty as regard to how we were able to assist our fellow human beings when they needed us most, this irrespective of our colour, race or class.
Please open your eyes widely and your senses prudently and freely behold the hunger ravaging many homes in Africa.

ME, MYSELF,AND MY THOUGHTS

I am actually just a normal being like all human with one head, one nose, two eyes, a mouth and a curious mind.
I really appriciate who I am, that is myself and I enjoy sharing my thoughts freely for those who might be willing to spare their unquantifiable time going through them.
I   am thrilled to be blogging them to the world. So if you come across any, please be free to share a comment.

A lucky thirst

Using my sweat soaked handkerchief, I mopped my face for the umpteenth time that afternoon, as I headed towards a shade under a mango tree. I was dead tired after walking more than ten miles in search of a job that was not forth coming, despite over forty applications sent to various organizations so far.

 I was a frustrated man, a graduate who has remained jobless. I was not angry with myself, but with a society that encourages nepotism, favoritism and tribalism. I thought, as I unbuttoned my shirt and fetched out some handful of groundnut from my pocket, kicked off my weather beaten sandals and chewed silently away. I was still lost in my various thoughts when sleep claimed me.
 I jotted up later, and hurriedly stood up; feeling embarrassed, and then suddenly realized I was thirsty. Glancing across the road, I spotted a beer parlor and strolled into the quite bar.

“Good afternoon madam” I greeted a fat looking woman who runs the place` please help me with a cup of water"

 “Afternoon" She replied, apparently disappointed that I had not requested for a beer or soft drink. All the same, she stood up and fetched me a cup of water from her fridge.

  “Thank you ma, God bless you” I collected the cup and sat down. Just then a slim elderly man sauntered into the bar. " Madam I hope your drinks are cold?" He inquired with a smile.

 “Yes sir, you are welcome” The woman hurriedly answered.

 “Good - there is nothing better in this hot sun than a chilled drink, or what do you think young man?” He joked, turning to me.

“Yes sir, but only those who can afford it” I replied with a tired smile

 “Yes I agree with you, but at least we are both among the lucky ones”

 “Ha! Sir, I can’t remember when last I tested a bottle of coke or any soft drink” I replied still smiling.

“What can I offer you sir?” The woman suddenly interrupted getting impatience.

 “Oh sorry madam, give me a chilled bottle of Malt and you young man what will you take?”

 “Me - anything sir” I answered shyly

 “No, no-no you must have a choice” the man said jokingly.

“Okay - Coke sir”

 “A chilled bottle of Coke for the gentleman” He ordered “So young man what is your story?”

I gave him a brief about myself, and ended up on how I had strolled into the bar for a cup of water. The man gave his name as Mallam Dogo. I was a bit skeptical when he gave me his card and asked me to check him the next day in his office. He finally paid for our drinks and handed me a two hundred naira note. “Use this for transport” He said and left. I thanked the woman once again and bade her farewell.

I set off for Mallam Dogo`s office the next day and was immediately showed into his office.

“Hope you are here with your credentials?”   He asked me immediately offering me a seat.

“Yes sir” I replied grateful to have thought of that before leaving home.

“Good, then get ready for an interview” He announced

Few hours later, still dazzled and astonished, I stared quietly at my appointment letter in a new generation bank, as tears of joy suddenly came tumbling down my cheeks.

END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011

“Seek help in patience and prayers, and truly its hard, save for the humble minded”

           The cow (verse 45)

WISE FOOL

             “A fool always has something to say, while the wise one keeps the golden silence”

                        Dodo

                                                ONE

He came into the bus, puffing and staring suspiciously at everyone inside the old rickety Toyota bus. He arrogantly refused to sit on a seat behind; where I was patiently sitting with two other passengers. The conductor a tough looking youth with rough look and a hard tough voice had asked him to climb in.

     “No! I can’t sit behind” Our new passenger had replied stubbornly. I noticed his right hand, was constantly guarding the right hand pocket of his trouser and seem never wanting to be touched by anyone.

  ‘Make we go now – abi na only him be the passenger “One of the passengers quarreled angrily in pidgin.

  “Oga please enter and save our time. What is wrong with sitting behind? Are we not people like you?” The passenger close to me asked, hissed and mopped his sweaty face with his palm.

 “No problem you can go, but I am not sitting behind.” The new passenger insisted stubbornly, making to join another bus at the busy bus stop.

 “Enter oga, there is space here.” The passenger sitting directly in front of us suddenly offered, making more room for the new passenger to sit down.

“Thank you my friend” The new passenger said, eyes the seat suspiciously and then finally humped into the bus, his right hand still protecting his right pocket tightly.

Almost everyone in the bus hived a sign of relieve as the driver engaged gears and droved back into the moving mid afternoon traffic.

The day was one of those hot sunny afternoons, when the sun decides to show it face in a furious mood. Going about in a commuter bus daily from one office to another, in search of my daily bread, was not something new to me. What option did I like most of my fellow poor starving country men and women have, than to daily hop about in dead rickety buses on our way to our different strives.

 The economy was really getting more depressing and things like joining a taxi, was almost becoming impossible for the average citizen. So going about in cheap buses was our only means of cheap transportation. Old and out of date buses, where helpless passengers are crammed like sardines, suffering and smiling, like my late country music legend Fela rightly defined.

I  sat silently, my head constantly peeping out  to catch some fresh air and take a glance at many suffering faces of my fellow country men and women  who roam about in the hot heat in search of how to survive for the day, under one of the most  toughest economy environment in a rich nation. I sat thoughtfully, as the bus rode on, stopping here and there to pick or drop a passenger. I noticed that the arrogant passenger was not finding it too comfortable the way he was constantly made to get up for a passenger to either get in or drop off.

 “Look I am tired with this stand up and sit down. Come what is wrong with you?” He finally demanded angrily.

“ Oga  me too I don tire with you o. why you no go sit down for back, abi the people wey dey back no be people like you? “ The conductor suddenly busted out, loosing his already accumulated patience.

“Come relax – wetin be your problem - why you dey talk to dis oga like dis , abi you dey craze’ The passenger who had offered the man a seat, suddenly barked at the conductor, to everyone surprise. “ No mind am oga , come dis side, make I sit down for your place” The kind passenger suggested, standing up from his seat.

“Thank you my brother – God bless you” The arrogant passenger answered gladly and they both swapped their seats. The kind passenger was now sitting on his right side. I noticed his right hand was now out of his pocket and was now in a relaxed mood.

I sat back and waited for the reply from the conductor, knowing conductors in this town, don’t normally take barking from passengers in their ‘office’; as they now coined their buses. It is nothing strange when you enter a bus and the first thing you notice are different stickers with different inscriptions, welcoming you. Inscriptions such as Welcome to my office, Please respect your self, or No money – No friend. No Smoking, Glory be to God or pictures of local and international stars, affixed to the windscreens and other parts of the buses.

“ Look Mr. Man – you no go come teach me my job for my office o. Wetin concern you inside dis talk – sabi-sabi” The expected shot finally came from the angry looking conductor, his blood shot eyes glaring with rage at both passengers.

“My guy –e be like say you dey craze o, Na me you dey talk to like dat. Come you no who I be? I go deal with you if you no take time “The kind guy boasted, half rising up threatening from his seat.

“Who you be” You no fit do me anything. All dis na shakara – na today.”  The conductor challenged, calling his bluffs.

“Look Mr. Man – I beg drop if you no want peace, me na peace I take dey work for dis moto – wetin . Haba! Na only una dey dis bus, come no be by force O. If una no wan go , make una drop other passengers dey for road” The driver suddenly quarreled, coming to the aid of his conductor.

“ I beg make una cool down make we reach where we dey go safely. Dis one wey una dey quarrel inside bus like dis” One of the ladies inside the bus pleaded, her face looking tired and so eager to reach her destination.

 I sat quietly, my eyes staring expressionless at the other passengers. I was also tired and eager to drop out of the bus. The tension inside the bus was gradually building up. I feared it might result into throwing punches any moment. A scene I was use to seeing almost every day inside our buses. And right now I was not in the mood to poke noise into other people’s affairs, not especially this kind of cheap stupid fight.

Fighting was now part of our daily existence. Fights over material things due to the harsh economy pressure on the average Nigerian, who was now finding it very hard to survive and interact peacefully with his fellow country men and women.

I sat back and quietly try to comprehend the reason why fighting was now so visible in almost all sphere of our lives. I once again concluded on the theory that “A hungry man – will always be an angry man”. Yes my people are hungry, so they should be angry. Why shouldn’t they, when almost everything seems to be getting worst everyday, without a sign of relieve. I concluded.

I noticed that the fighting party inside the bus had now decided to suspend their cheap barking and that the kind passenger and his arrogant new friend, were now discussing among themselves. I overheard them talking about the weather as I try to make myself comfortable in the tight seat. Why is everything not working in my country? I thought silently wounding why the government can’t provide a good cheap transportation system for the poor populace, just as it is done in other countries around the world.

An organize bus system, where people could queue up, and pay reasonable fares on subsidized prices. Instead of leaving the helpless low income citizens in the hand of over jealous, greedy private transport owners’ in the name of deregulation. I silently wondered why our rail system is still being left to waste away when this system could be revive to help assist the suffering cheap income earners in their transportation problems.

Again I shook my head sadly remembering the news I heard not quite long of greedy saboteurs among my fellow country men who without the fear of God or sympathy for their fellow human beings, have now find business in vandalizing and stealing off some of the railway tracks across the country.

What kind of a wicked and heartless people will go and steal rail lines? God! Things are really getting out of hands. What is really wrong with my dear country? I questioned my self silently again, as the now silent bus speed down the long congested road.

                                                               TWO

Few passengers dropped down happily on the way and two other new ones joined us, grumbling as they were pushed behind and sandwiched among us at the rear. Our two new friends, I noticed had now become so close and were busy exchanging names and addresses. The conductor I noticed on the other hand was still wearing a strong frown, his eyes occasionally stealing wicked glances at both of them.

“Take- bifor Roundabout, I pay for two of us.”

The kind passenger suddenly announced, trusting a fifty naira note at the still angry looking conductor, who snatched the money away with a frown.

“Driver- bifor dey” he announced to the driver and handed the passenger a ten naira change.

“Keep the change I dash you” the kind passenger said, ignoring the change.

“Thank you. I no need your change” the conductor replied, dropping the change carelessly on the man’s lap.

“Thank you my brother-no mind am collect your change…e no deserve am.” The arrogant man said, picked the money and handed it to his new friend, who pocketed the money and grin at the conductor who stares back, his eyes still blazing.

“No problem, just drop me for bifor roundabout...” The kind  passenger said as the bus swing out of the road on nearing the next roundabout.

The kind passenger stood up and bade his new friend good bye. ”Una save journey o” he bade everyone and silently dropped out of the bus. I thought I could see a wide grin on his face as he dropped and confidently cross over the road. Another new passenger soon joins us and the bus rejoined the moving traffic.       

We had hardly traveled few miles when suddenly we all heard a loud shout.

“Stop driver, yeh! My money” This from the arrogant passenger, whose arrogant face now suddenly looked confused and stupid. 

“Driver stop stop!, my money. I can’t find my money- Now! Now! Now!” the man shouted springing up to his feet almost colliding with the passenger in his front.

“Oga wetin again stop for wetin?” The driver asked from the steering, ignoring the man’s hysterical shouts as he continued down the road.

“I say stop, my money- abi you no dey hear stop somebody don steal my money.” The man cried out to our astonishment.

“Stop driver “Some of the passenger finally told the driver who reluctantly swing out of the road again, grumbling with his conductor who angrily opened the door. And we all filled out of the bus silently including the driver.

“Yes wetin dey happen?” he demanded angrily staring at the confused looking arrogant passenger, who was busy emptying all his pockets.

“What is the problem?” another passenger asked walking up to the man.

“My money ten thousand naira, I just collected from the bank –now-now, I can’t find it”

 “Ten thousand naira, where you keep am.?” A passenger asked, staring confusingly at him.

 “Here in my right pocket five- five hundred naira notes. I am just from the bank..Yeh!”

The man screamed and stared at all of us, showing his empty right hand pocket.

“Ha! e don fall Mugu” the conductor announced his face twisting into a satisfactory grin.

“Sorry chief e – be- like say you don fall to pick pockets. Since when you no notice the money again?”

Another passenger asked with a mockery smile.

“I say na now!- now!- now!. Money wey I carry enter dis bus”The man replied peeping back into the bus and searching all the seats.

“Oga you sure say no be that man wey siddon near you pick this your money so.?” I slowly suggested, my eyes assisting in the search going on within the bus.

“Yes! O. It could be true “Another passenger supported my view. “Where did he drop?”

“Drop- forget dat one don waka, shebi na him friend- e go no where he go see am” The conductor said. His face now had a wide grin and mockery look.

“I no know am o. Na today I just meet am che! now! now! now! -ten thousand naira… Five- five hundred naira notes.- che!., dis man don kill me  today” Our arrogant passenger cried out , his eyes stares faraway towards  where  his kind new friend had dropped.

” Well oga – we na go we dey so. You fit rush back go check where the man drop, may be you fit get luck see am. Oya make una enter moto make we dey go, my hour don dey go” The driver finally announced, climbing back into the bus.

The man stared quietly at most of us, then quickly dart across the road and ran panickly towards the roundabout.

I watched him silently as he dashed off and disappeared among the crowd on the busy street. I shook my head and quickly climbed back into the now accelerating bus.

“Na Wah! O and the man was so very nice to him. Kai! Dis country, - na only God go save us. The passenger next to me exclaimed with surprise.

“Na him take him hand buy trouble for himself. Sebi na back I say make e siddon , wey he wan fight me. He think say him get sense - mu- mu – na wise fool.” The conductor happily announced, turning to collect his fares from a passenger.

 “Yes- a wise fool- the arrogant passenger the conductor had rightly christened. He had allowed himself to fall cheaply to an old trick, Swapping seats with a good stranger. Thank God my last fifty naira, my transport fare, was still safely tucked where I had prudently hidden it. I pulled it out and held tightly to it, waiting to reach my destination, before paying, for me to collect my change and avoid any unforeseen embarrassed moment of also becoming a wise fool. I thought silently, as all the passengers now stares suspiciously at each other.

                                               END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011

Just give me a child

ONE

“No! –not again” I screamed loudly, my eyes staring hopefully with fear at the sullen face of my husband who stared back with a devastated look. I turned back to look at the doctor who had a sympathetic look and the two female nurses who also stared at me with the look of lost and disappointment. None of them would utter any word, instead they followed my gaze towards the empty baby cot I had visualized and expected to see my baby lying peaceful or whimpering for the tender care of my hands.

But my sobbing eyes presently could only make out the small pillow and the rich baby blanket I had bought during one of our numerous babies shopping spree, in anticipation of a long expected child of our own.

“Sorry – darling – it’s a miscarriage again” I heard my husband finally announced stepping forward to sit down beside me on the bed and gently stroking my head against his broad shoulder.

“ We are sorry Mrs. James – we tried everything we could do to save your child – but…” The doctor chipped in, but I was no longer listening to voices around me, instead I found my mind on a long thoughtful journey and my spirit broken. I wished I could just close my eyes and open them to find I was just dreaming and still have my baby safely hidden inside my womb.

“ I am sorry James…I am really sorry” I sobbed uncontrollable in the protective shoulder of my caring and understanding husband, who held me tightly and whispers his long reassuring words into my ears.

“No – darling don’t be sorry- it wasn’t you fault – that is the way God wanted it to be. We will try again”. He told me, lifting my face to clean the flowing tears from my sunken eyes.

TWO

I trailed after my husband and the other sympathizers who had throng to the hospital to see me home, after spending two more days at my cozy room at the expensive hospital, this after the doctor and my over pampering nurses had assured themselves that I was now psychological fit again to return to our big house and the other materialistic vanities that make up a good life. But all I ever needed was just a child, a lively bouncing toothless baby I could proudly call my own, just like some of my mates and neighbors.

 All I desperately wished would happen was to go home with a whimpering child held closely in my bosom, just like some of the pregnant mothers who came to the hospital with me on the same day and were now proud mothers of innocent sweet little creatures.

I don’t mind what gender - a girl, a boy, twins or triplets, just a little child with life, that pure smell and the natural blood bond.

 We were nearing where my husband had parked his posh KIA car , when I noticed a new mother with her God’s gift held protectively in her hands, and was about boding a car with a  smiling happy looking man, I guessed must be her husband. I suddenly paused halfway through our car door and stared ones more at the lucky mother, wishing I was in the same position with her, and my husband wearing that same happy smile like her hubby. “Come on Martha- lets go home and start preparing for another chance” I heard James said to me, knowing he must have comprehend what I was thinking.

 I flopped into the car leather seat and stared silently at the hospital surroundings as we drove out of the rich premises that could not reward me with a life long desire.

THREE

God – when is my own baby coming, after eight years of trying, humiliation and perseverance? I thought silently as James drove off silently absolved in his own wishes and thoughts. I felt sorry for him, blaming myself for making him go through all the trouble with me faithfully, despite all the prodding  from his parents, other family members and friends, including my own families and friends, who had long expected us to filled our rich home with babies; as if all the wealth in this world could create  one.

This was my forth miscarriage and I tell you nobody , but me and James knew exactly how these tormenting eight years have been. The doctor had long confirmed that we were both okay, with enough steam, strong sperm from James and active eggs in my womb to produce a child, but what many of these people are failing to understand was that providence was still locking around us and nobody but the creator and owner of everything on earth, could make this desire possible. I thought silently my eyes suddenly staring at various parents with their little ones, held in their backs, hands or strolling together along the busy morning street. My curious eyes equally picked up the ignorant faces of some kids hawking cheap wares risk fully, amidst the noisy street and silently cursed the system that allowed young innocent ones to strive hardly at this tender age.

I cursed the system that closed its eyes to its responsibilities, and encourage these innocent ones to fall preys to heartless child molesters, rapist, and ritualist, now rampant and mingling freely among these gullible young ones. I suddenly hated the system and people that have failed to see the potentials of these ingenuous future leaders and the custodian of this country. I was bemused by those heartless and foolish women who senselessly dumped or abandoned their babies on roadsides, front doors, or many other strange places, after suffering to carry them in their wombs for nine solid months.

 I asked myself if they really knew and appreciate the value of life, especially that of a child, whom known among us know what he or she might be tomorrow. Oh God - just give me a child and I will show this uncaring bunch of people how to take care of an adolescent.  I pray silently as we approach our imposing big house, wishing all its beauty and glamour could turn into a child, not minding if we had to live in a small room, as long as my baby would have a space to lay his innocent head on.

“Here we are – welcome back home” I heard James announced happily, cutting off my silent thoughts and wishes.

“Thank you – darling – I am happy to be home” I replied, stepping out slowly from the car and gave him my hand as he lead me into our home with a silent resolve to stay calm and get prepared to try again, in the hope that providence might have pity on us this time and give us a little child of our own.

   END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011

Nothing as sweet as freedom

ONE

The massive gates of the old colonial prison rattled noisily behind me as the two uniformed warders shut them away from curious eyes, and I was led to my new abode, where I was to spend three agonizing free less days, days I pray never to witness again.

The day was a Friday and the last day before the weekend. And the judge had thought it wise to send me to cool off and spend the weekend inside the four walls of a prison for disturbing the peace and intent to injure.  So this is it, I thought silently as I was cut off from my families, friends and foes to await Monday when I might be granted my freedom ones again.

 My journey into this tormenting prison world had actually started two days ago when anger a very poor attributes of a gentleman had pushed me into a fight with my unfriendly neighbor who had actually started the fight in the first place, but anger had covered my sense of logic and had pushed me foolishly to smashed a bottle on his head and in the process had caused him a serious injury that required six stitches and some days in hospital, where he was still laying in critical condition, before I was reminded.

 A mere argument we could both have resolved amicably, instead we had allowed dispute over right of space, a cheap vanity thing, to overtake our sense of reasoning. 

Well too late I thought, as I was led into my new bareness room at the Awaiting Trial section of the old  prison ,where twenty one other inmates  stared suspiciously at me with curious eyes, as the uniformed guards locked up the rusty  but strong looking iron door and I found myself  suddenly curtained away from freedom and peace.

TWO

I lay staring sullenly at the round shape of a bright shinning moon from the iron barred window in the crowded cell, listening to the loud snoring of tired bodies lying next to me.  I suddenly appreciated how marvelous my old mattress at home had been and the privacy I had hitherto enjoyed every night at home, alone in my small tidy room. What won’t I have given to be free and laying on my mattress even with the option of not stepping out throughout the day or week? At least it was still better than this secluded cage, where the freedom to shut my eyes and sleep off peacefully is as impossible as trying to spray one’s hand and fly up like a bird. What won’t I do this night just to be free and be able to use the bathroom as usual to ease myself freely without being authorized to do so, as was obtainable in this dingy room? An experience that had shocked me when I had attempted to ease myself off a tormenting pee inside the smelly little room provided as toilet. But a loud voice from one of the prisoners had commanded that I see the ‘OC in charge to give me approval and I had waited with discomfort for some long tormenting minutes for my turn and later made to keep the place clean as a newcomer, after a hard looking inmate, whose duty was the officer in charge of toilet, finally gave me the go ahead.

 I had never done a more horrifying chore like the one I did that night. The stench from the dark unlighted pee flooded room was enough to send any sane mind into insanity and deflate his or her pride and ego. I had thrown up twice and held my nose throughout the twenty minutes exercise that seems to have lasted two hours.

 Finally I was allowed to squeeze my tired disoriented body among other sleeping inmates who seems to have accustomed their body and mind to the hard concrete floor and the constant tormenting whizzes noises of the abundant mosquitoes. I tried everything humanly to fight the small tiny creatures all night, before I unconsciously succumbed to sleep and a dreamless night.

THREE

The two other days in my new caged world, were up to this moment the most terrifying days of my life. I still find it hard to believe that a place like this existed in my country. My hitherto perception of a prison was no luxury house though, but not a house of hell as well.  To me this was a house well out of a horror movie. How best could I have described a place where hundreds of able bodied men are locked up day and night, hunger and depression slowly eating away their creative minds and aspirations? Or what should I call a world where innocent beings are crammed like sardines with hardened criminals and left to break down permanently or waste away awaiting a long over due judgment; where their freedom lies in the hands of other fellow human beings who decides and has the final right to set them free as sheep to pasture in unwelcome societies.

The rattling of our cell old rusted iron door  early the next morning after my first night, had jotted me abruptly from my uncomfortable dreamless sleep, as I stared frightening at the bulky shape of the morning warder, bumming loudly to everyone in the  crammed cell to wake up to another dehumanizing day.
We were all lined up outside and counted like sheep in the abattoir, waiting for the butcher’s long knife. The fat unsmiling warder assisted by other two unsmiling and unfriendly colleagues took note of our numbers and after assuring themselves that none among us had thought it stupid to escape the previous night, a suicide mission only a stupid fool would attempt, ordered us back into the smelling cell and locked us ones again from freedom and the morning fresh air.

 I would have done anything to have been left out to soak my nose and body in that free fresh air. I would have gladly with a wide smile volunteer to sweep the whole prison yard, filled up plenty drums of water, mop the walls of the prison or wash many horrifying bathrooms, just to be left outside, away from the cage like cell that morning. I wouldn't  have  mind or give a darm if they had ordered me to stay stacked naked and roam round the big walls of the massive compound, amidst the curious eyes of other prisoners or warders, just to remain away from that one single lice infested room, where many disease were roaming freely scouting for the next victim to descend on. I  would have given out my eye soaring food ratio of the whole day gladly, just to be left outside to stare freely at the rising sun, and feel that sweet morning breeze as it blows comfortably across my face, free from conscious and unconscious farting and other human stench boldly abode in that room.

I would have gladly presented my buttock to be whipped a thousand times, to be free from that airless room, away from unwashed bodies, demoralized and abandoned by their fellow country men and women in authority.

FOUR

I spent the last night of my three horrible days awake all night, praying, and waiting hopefully that the fat warder would come and wake us up with his big baton rattling loudly against the iron door earlier than usual. Today was my D-Day, a day that would decide my fate of either to remain a caged human being in this dehumanizing four walls or a free man with freedom written boldly across my face, with a free smile, a free will and all the other unquantifiable features that made up a free man. Thank God my victim was now back home from the hospital and now feeling much better; this all important life and death information I had gathered from a visiting relative earlier yesterday, so my fate now lies in the hand of the judge whom I pray would have leniency on me and grant me bail,that unquantifiable ticket to freedom.

 I listened  quietly as my other fellow inmates snore on, and probably had the privileged of  visiting the dreamland, one natural exercise that occurs ones in awhile in this place.

I noticed that few among them were also already awake and over heard some of them praying, wondering which among them hope to taste the sweetness of freedom that day like me. The loud horns from cars as they speed pass our walled world, spurred up my determination to leave the place and go back home a freeman and a reformed one, with a self promise never to fight anybody again, even resolving to ensure that I give my other chin to any of my adversary who might be tempted to taste my fortitude again.

 After all, was that not the way the scripture thought us to do in circumstances that had brought me to this place. I reminded myself silently, as I saw the big frame of the fat warder sleek up to our cell door. I watched him with a grin, as he gave out his first loud bang of the morning, catching the other tired malnourished sleeping bodies unaware, rattling their ears awake to another degrading day.

END

Lamentations of a cripple

ONE

God please don’t let it rain today again, I prayed silently as I crawled hurriedly towards my temporary shelter where I have been hanging for the past two weeks; daily begging passerby for arms, with all my eyes and senses fully alert to my real mission to the rich business area of our Federal Capital city, a rich environment not meant for people like me. Hundreds of thousands like me who are seen as incomplete human beings, because of our deformities and physically challenged frames. A condition none of us ever prayed for nor had hand in creating, but our fellow human beings, especially those in this part of the world hardly understand or cares to know.

 I am a cripple. I was born unfortunate with no legs or rather  two sets of stumps which  on carefree look has the similarity of a normal grown human limps, but a proper  glance would reveled what I am  to you, a full grown man with small legs, that could never carry the big weight of my frame. I lost my parents at a tender age and found myself growing up among a group of old folks who could hardly survived on their own, and few years later I found myself alone with the passing away of these kind hearted people who thought me how to be humble and appreciate myself the way I am and learn to be proud of who I am. But the condition in my country won’t allow me the privilege of earning my living in a humble way, instead, hundreds of thousands like me are daily forced to result to begging and doing odd dehumanize services to survive.

You might be surprise why I pleaded to God not to let a much needed rain to fall as I ran to my shelter. I was not trying to be too greedy or self centered, because a true farmer might not take it kindly with me if he happens to hear such prayer from my mouth. But the truth is, I just wanted to end what brought me from our long abandoned settlement in one of the far away satellite towns within the capital and happily return home to endure with more suffering and neglecting.

 My journey actually began one morning after a friend who happens to be a cripple himself told me the cheering news of a Good Samaritan he had stumbled into one day on his way to his daily begging. The Good Samaritan he told me had been kind enough to dash him twenty thousand naira to start his much cherished phone card business, and since then his life had change for the better. He was one of my closest long suffering friend and I had noticed instantly that truly his life was now far better than mine and he had that dignified look of a proud business man, something most of us craved to become one day.

 To cut the story short my good friend gave me the name of this gentleman or rather what he assumed was his name and encourage me to try my luck if I could trace him, since he never knew where he stays, but gave me a clue to the area he had luckily stumbled into him, and over heard two different passerby addressed him with the name’ lawyer’.

TWO

I thanked my friend and quickly organized myself with my scarce resources and bode an expensive ride into the city and painfully into one of the most expensive area in the capital city, where only over charge taxis and privately run vehicles plies. And because of the long negligence attitude of our people, especially those in authority, nobody cared or gave it a thought to create a special transport system for us in this part of our country. I was sure the planners never envisioned the probability of the physical challenge people venturing towards this area; since business to them is the privilege right of only the able bodied human beings.

 It took the grace of my creator and my courage to make it to this expensive part of  the city, as I was constantly stared pitifully at, harassed and even almost lost my life trying to cross one of the wide rich roads, with no provision for people like me. Just like the other many government built infrastructure across the country, with no provision for the disables.  We sometimes see and feel as if we are aliens in our land, as nobody ever think about us before constructing a road, build an hospital or designed the many tall imposing structures adoring our rich  cities, unlike other thoughtful nations who respect, value and have sympathies for the physical challenged in their society. Back here we are seen as obstacles and valueless members of the society, with no needs or right to also enjoy the good things of life.

 My sojourn to the city was one of the hardest  journey I had ever under taken on my own, and for  almost two weeks I had been hanging around the rich unfriendly vicinity praying and waiting for Mr. Lawyer to come down from his rich posh office on the tenth floor of a twelve story building. It had actually taken me five good days of patiently searching and making inquiries before I was lucky to come across an old man who work as a guard in one of the rich structure along the street. He had patiently listened to my story and told me he knew exactly who I was searching for. According to him there was only one popular lawyer with a sympathetic heart along the street and he was certain he was who I was looking for. The smile and happiness on my face could have won me a record in a contest if it were to be a competition. Because the joy on my face was too hard to hide as I thank the old man who directed me to the tall imposing building, with a warning to be careful as the guards in the structure don’t usually welcome people like me and hardly have time or sympathy to listen to our stories.  

I nodded at his caution and bade him farewell as I crawled towards the tall structure. I was determine to go see this good lawyer even if the guards would turn to wolves and threaten me. I could not just turn back now and go back home , not after spending five crushing days in search of the illusive lawyer, which nobody seems to know at first or rather pretended not to know, after staring miserably at my  crippled legs and the sweat on my face.

I crawled confidently towards the gate and was immediately confronted by two guards in uniform who stares surprisingly at me, as if I was an alien who had just dropped down from the sky.

 

I was quick to noticed the frowns on their faces and their threatening posture, as one of them slowly make his way towards me, the baton in his hand swinging threatening in his big large hands. “Yes – what do you want?” he barked at me from afar, his eyes taking on my deformity.

“ Good afternoon sir “ I answered giving him a respect  he does not deserved, but I would have addressed him by his majesty or his royal highness, if these would  sweetened  his mind and allow me to get inside and see Mr. Lawyer.

A car with a passenger had driven towards the gate at that moment and the guard had stared miserable once more at me, and then went to attend to the car, ignoring my presence in the hot scorching sun. He had finally returned after letting the car in with much respect and fanfares.

 “Yes – what do you want? “He demanded once again coming to stand few distance away from me, his eyes boring into me suspiciously.

“Well-done sir – I want to see Mr. Lawyer” I said, making my voice a little high from where I was crushing, and mopping my sweaty face.

“Which Mr. Lawyer? – Which office he dey work? Wetin you wan see am for?” He demanded in pidgin in a harsh voice.

I knew I was sucked because the old man never told me which office the kind lawyer was to be found, something he had told me he had no idea about, but all the same I was determined and nothing would stop me from achieving my goal this far. So I  stared hopefully at the unfriendly guard and said. “Mr. Good lawyer – I was told he has an office here on the tenth floor. So I came to see him” I answered with a desperate voice.

The guard had stared surprisingly at me and busted into a long hysterical laugh. His colleague had also joined him and together they had laughed their lives away, forcing me to also join them with a wide grin on my tired face. Then finally they both stared miserably at me and chased me out of the imposing structure. “We don’t allow beggars around here” the second guard announced with pride and the big gates had been shot on my face. That had been almost one week three day ago. And since then I have been trying everything possible to see Mr. Lawyer, but the guards at the building would never allowed me in.  So I had devised a plan to wait outside the vicinity hoping Mr. Lawyer would come down one day during or after work and see me or if I am lucky I might also stumble across him like my lucky friend. Again it had occurred to me that it would actually takes a miracle for me to climb up to the tenth floor if they were to allowed me in. The elevators I knew was not meant for people like me and could visualized the scowl on the faces of other passengers if I try to join any of the expensive looking machines. But all this were just part of my imagination, as the guards would not allowed me to come near the building again.

 So I had found a space, an abandoned structure, which once served as a bus stop and turned it into my temporary sleeping quarters. And there I ran into as the sky wore the look of  rain again, after falling almost the whole  day yesterday, and my prayer was for  God to kindly paused the rain for the day and bring out Mr. Lawyer  down from his office and push him towards my way.

THREE

The strong wind of the rain blew across my face, as I hurriedly crawled safely to my hiding place. God, it seems had refused to answered my prayers as the sky suddenly darkened, boldly displaying the sign of an unstoppable heavy rain.

Well thank God, I still had somewhere to run to and hide since most of the rich structure along the expensive street won’t welcome someone like me,not with their stern looking security guards and sometimes wild looking Alsatian dogs, whose Jaws I guess could deal easily with a cripple like me. I propelled myself on the long abandoned concrete seat at the bus stop and quietly surveyed and analyst the able bodied human beings around me.

I watched silently as most of them though with full good legs and strong human frames still grumbled hurriedly away from the incoming rain, some even cursing loudly. Now and then, I heard grumbling and curses like. ‘This rain again. I am tired with it’ ‘which kind rain be this’, ‘another bad day – rain – rain’ a bad business day again’ and so on.

I imagined some of them taking my place for just some few hours and I guessed most of them would definitely go crazy as cripples ,cursed and  grumbled through out. Ungrateful bunch I thought, wondering why most able bodied human beings hardly appreciate and thank God for making them whole to walk freely, jump, run, climb and go wherever their curious minds and legs takes them to.

 I grinned silently staring at different angry faces of beautiful women with hair styles that must have cost them a fortune hurriedly scampering towards some of the buildings along the street, with frown faces, while their male counterparts also sprint towards safety, with none wanting to come towards the abandoned bus stop, after staring at me and noticing my deformed figure.  Thank God none of them even came closer at least the shade provided me with privacy from the scrutinizing eyes of these arrogant and swell headed  able bodied  people who might have forced me out of the safe shade with their curious stares, questions and over displayed pity.

Then, as if in response to my silent thoughts the rain suddenly came down heavily; just as three men scampered hurriedly into the shade away from the furious rain. God! Here they come I thought silently staring at them, and braced myself up to their curious stares, disgust looks and unsolicited pity, probably with torrent of investigative question. But I told myself I still have the right to ignore them and stared up quietly at the sky as the rain came down freely, with the wind blowing across our faces.

 I quickly noticed that the three strangers where not friends, but the rain had pushed them here. Two of them had become close and were freely charting away , stealing occasional glances at me, even though none of them had the courtesy of saying hello to me as the first occupant  of the safe place. I was not actually expecting their courtesy, as I was used to the arrogant postures of my able bodied fellow citizens, who sees us as the lowest class in the country, with nothing to contribute to their materialistic quests.

But to my surprise the third man who had  ran into the shade last and had been silent as the two other two grumbled  about the consistent rain  that was spoiling their business and complained of the harsh economic situation in the country, suddenly  glanced in my direction and nodded at me with a smile. I stared thoughtfully at him and nodded back with a smile. He left the other two and walked up to me, and then dropped his tall slim frame on the space beside me on the concrete seat. “This rain is heavy” he said, his friendly smile still visible on his face.

“Yes – oga – na heavy rain” I replied in pidgin, smiling back at him. I noticed the other two fellows staring surprisingly at us, as if they were just noticing me there for the first time. I ignored their curious stares and smiled up at the sky.

“But you are new around here, I have noticed since last week.” My new friend suddenly said, staring with interest at me.

“ Yes – oga -  I just come see somebody” I  answered now staring more curiously at him, my mind trying to picture if I had noticed him among the hundreds of people  I had come across since  invading this rich environment. But I find it difficult to place his face, with a body or action that might have caught my interest as I squatted all weeks waiting to see the invisible Mr. Lawyer.

“I see you every day from my office and I kept wondering what you were doing here. I mean it’s on usual to see someone like you here consistently for almost two weeks” he said as the rain kept its furious fall on the street and the two other men now back to their discussions. “Who exactly you dey look for?”  He finally asked slowly in Pidgin English.

I nodded silently at his observations, stared at the sky, and then at the tall imposing structure, where I was told Mr. Lawyer had his office. “The man dey inside this tall building” I finally announced, my eyes still glued to the building.

My new friend stared surprisingly at me, his eyes also staring at the building. “Wetin be him name and wetin join una?

“Him name na Mr. Lawyer – I just come see am for help” I replied, now staring at him with a worried look.

“Who gave you his name and address?” He asked staring at me with a wide grin. Sensing that I was not ready to disclosed this information to him, he smiled and suddenly added

“Na me be Mr. Lawyer – I am the one you are looking for.”

FOUR

 Thirty minutes later, the rain now gone, I sat silently alone at the back seat of a painted taxi as the driver speed down the double lanes of the rich city road that lead towards our ghetto. I grinned silently to myself, thanking God that the rain had fall that day, a natural circumstance that had pushed my savior Mr. Lawyer to my temporary abode. Who knows if the rain had not fallen I might still be waiting hopelessly with a depleted determination to see him. But providence had naturally pushed him towards me and true to my friend’s word; he was one of the biggest giver I had ever come across.

 He had listened to my story as the rain hits down on the roof of the bust stop, silently nodding his head to my lamentations. He had even frown when I told him how the guards at the gate had refused me entry into the building and shock his head sadly when I confessed to him that I had been hanging hopefully outside to see him for almost two weeks, and wished that I had two good legs which would have given me easy access to the building and allowed me to ride inside one of the elevators or walk up the long flight of stairs to see him. He had commended me for my courage and determination smiled warmly and reminded me that probably if I have two good legs I would not have come to see him nor would our ways had cross each other. I nodded in agreement, seeing the wisdom in his saying.

 Finally he had looked down at me after the rain, stood up and said calmly with a broad smile “Come – lets go” and with this we strolled side by side towards the building and he proudly took me into the tall imposing structure to the astonishment of some of the guards around who had stared foolishly at us as we made our grand entry.

Up to his office I rode proudly in one of the cozy elevators to his tastefully furnished office, the first time in my life to ride in such a beautiful easy moving machine.

 And finally here I was, sitting comfortably alone at the back seat of a taxi, a luxury I had never foreseen in my dream and the sweetest part of it all: thirty thousand naira richer – in cash safely tucked away in the most hidden pocket in my old trouser, all these courtesy of Mr. Lawyer, the Good Samaritan.

I shot my eyes briefly imagining what the taxi driver might think if he knew I had that amount of cash on me. I hide a grin and try to visualized myself as a successful independent trader that won’t have to depend on anyone for survival again, or daily beg around, living as parasite on unfriendly frowning faces, with just few with  big generous minds as oga Lawyer. Thank God the rain had fallen today; I thought silently piping out at the hazy looking sky.  So finally I was on my way to become an independent human being, proudly earning my living with dignity. Let the rain keep falling I wished silently, shorting back my eyes to enjoy a journey of a lifetime.

END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011

Inside the mind of a blind man

ONE

“Wahoo! What a beauty – this is my dream car” I heard one of the female voices besides me announced to her friend with an excited and breath taking tone, as they both giggle happily beside me by the bus stop. Though I could not see or make out what they both look like, but my long years of experience as an old blind man, had built up my inner vision – what we the blind call the inner eyes. The invisible subconscious eyes which only the blind posses. With this I was able to conclude that I was standing not too far away from two young women, with good taste and a strong quest for the enormous beautiful good things of life that have been ordained from birth, that men like me and other blind men and women scattered around mother’s earth would not have the privilege to see and admire.  But thank God at least I could still smell their sweet perfume and hear their gossips within our short time at the bus stop.

So, I stray my ears to hear what these beautiful women were saying. I imagined them looking as beautiful and gay as their voices, but this was something I could  only visualized as I have always over the years visualized and imagined the beauty and shapes  of anything around me.

“I can’t wait to get home and try on this new dress in the full view of my standing mirror” The other friend continued after sometime. “I know my shape will come out fully” she giggles softly. “And all those curious eyes will almost jump out of their sockets”

I heard her friend giggled loudly before saying “ I trust you and your shape”

 I wish I could see this talked about shape and decide if she really had a beautiful frame as she was making out. But shapes, size, and colors, including beauty were strangers to me.

 I was born  blind more than fifty  years ago and a blind man I had grown up to be, accepting my fate and believing that the creator knew why he decided to send me into this hard struggling world as  a blind man. Though I sometime wish I could have my eye even just for a day to behold all the beautiful and astonishing things I have over the years heard about. Things like the sun which I could only describe as a hot ball hanging up in the sky, the moon which I have never seen nor felt it impact like the sun, or the so much described stars which I was told are small looking tiny shining balls scattered across the invisible sky. I wish I could see how I look like and the shape and frames of the other millions of people around me. I sometimes visualized how colours look like and the many structures of trees, especially those with those sweet fruits I have over the years come to cherished. Like mango, guava, orange, pawpaw, dates and the other tasty ones so numerous to mention. Even though I have cherished eating meat and fish over the years, I still wished I could see what a goat, a cow or a fish look like, including the others various domestic animals around me, like ducks, fowls, chickens and even small rodent like rats.

 I  always wish for the day  fate would smile on me and give me a glimpse of that friendly animal called dog  that has restored hopes to many blind humans like me across the globe, acting as guide dogs , including the strong shape of a horse as I was meant to know. Yes I  sometime have these strong wishes inside me, but I  never allowed them to deprived me of enjoying my days on earth, nor closed my ears to different gossips and talks as they fly freely daily around me.    

TWO

I made my way carefully along the swampy road leading to my one room lonely apartment. The sun I was meant to know has since gone down and using my inner eyes, I had quickly deduced that the day was fast approaching another night. Every day to me was night all along since I found myself as a blind human among my fellow human beings. What has brightness or light got to do with me. Tell me about the change in weather and I will quickly tell you whether its winter, summer, dry season, rainy season or the cold windy season. All these I could feel, touch or perceive, not minding that I can never see their features.

 I am on my way back into my lonely world and lonely thoughts. I wonder as always what it would be like with a woman and a small family waiting for me at home. But providence had never given me a woman to call a wife nor a child I could never see to call my own. I suddenly remembered the two ladies I had earlier met at the bus stop earlier in the day and reminisce over some of their gossips and strong desires for material things. Things I could never see, but already have mental picture about.

I had listened silently as they both wished for so many different things that existed under the sun, as we boded the popular city transit bus, and they had been kind enough to assist me get into the bus and sat me behind them, though I was meeting them for the first time.  I listened as they wished for rich husband, healthy and fine kids and big beautiful house with posh cars to drive around. All their wishes had flash through my mind as I tried to picture how they look like.  The world, I was told is abound with new technologies and devices like that big roaring bird in the sky I learnt could carry five to a thousand people at a go. The aero plane to me is one of the most mystified creations of the human being, apart from a small machine I own at home known as the transistor radio, which telecast people’s voices and another one I was told could even televise pictures and images, which I wished I could see.

A ride in a moving machine had always mystified me, though I could not see how they look like, but I could feel their power and their mystery. How does a car, a bus, a bicycle, a motor cycle, a train, a plane or a ship look like? How do these mysterious awed sounding engines look like? And what shape are they carrying? All these are part of the constant questions in my life.

I rounded the last bend to my house, and confidently increased my steps, as I heard some voices complaining that the Electricity Company had just took the light. Who cares, I thought silently wondering what this popular electricity look like. I grinned imagining what they would do if they were in my shoes, none of these grumbling neighbors would ever want to switch position with me, even for a day. I concluded, as I finally pushed my guarding stick forward and identified the familiar entrance, I made my way silently towards my compound and unlocked my door and stepped into my room, shutting the door silently behind me, away from mosquitoes, those tormenting little creatures with annoying buzzing and painful bites. I have always wondered what the little rascals look like, after crushing any unfortunate one in my powerful palm.

Dropping my stick, my most fateful companion over the years, I got myself a cup of water from a jug nearby and drank down this sweet liquid of life with relish, again wishing as always an opportunity to see and   know what this important liquid of existence look like. I suddenly smiled to myself , remembering that I could still always smile happily, though I could not see or know how a smile look like , but many people I had came across, say I have got a fine happy free smile.

While not appreciate what I have. I thought silently as I settled down to eat my dinner. Sweet food, I thought, but I could not make out what it look like. Finally after dinner, I dropped my tired frame on my old mattress to rest and wait for another day to smile around and probably I might be among the lucky ones that though won’t see the features of the next day , but would feel and smell it presence.

END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011