UJEH(THE DAY OF LIBERATION) VOL 2

The dying elder picked particular humour of his plight, still lying almost lifeless on the floor.

He gave an hysterical laugh for a long time that threatened violent consequences rather than pain. Coughing uncontrollably with chuck of blood running out of his mouth, he said with a dignified air of assurance;

'Our days of liberation are upon us' then he died.

Source

Papa had realised for the first time that night that his meal had been served. He made a little frantic search in dim darkness for the washing bowl. He open the food and saw it was his favourite. Beads of stem ran through the cover of the plates and dropped into the soup.

He took a morsel handful of the yams and dipped it into the soup, swallowing it with ease.

Then obi asked, what seemed to Aka a foolish question;

'Why did the rulers throw the man out of the palace, when they did nothing wrong?

Aka slapped him lightly on the head for asking a seemingly stupid question. They almost fought again. Papa intervene once again, this time breathing down serious consequences if they don't stop acting like cats and dogs.

Don't you know that they are Osu! An outcast ! They have no say or right in the community. Theirs is to be happy with whatever they got without complaints.' Ngozi had helped to answer the question.

'But the are human beings like the rulers. They should not be punished for the sins of their fathers' Obi retorted.

Papa was particularly impressed with what Obi had said. He had always seemed more bright than his siblings. Always wanting to quench his curious mind with questions.

Papa closed his food, washed his hands and thought it better to finish the tale before he ate his food. He began;

'That year the temperature had hit a hundred degree and promised to go higher. A man's wrapper would be soaked under a shade in fifteen minutes, and five minutes without one.

Some of the guards of Ujeh had been instructed to oversee the progress of the community monuments built by the Osu's. They flogged them mercilessly at any chance they thought that the men slowed down and cursed them anytime they had no idea reason to whip them.

The men were tired and hungry. They would give the lives of their children for a taste of water to sooth their dehydration. But the strong guards reeled off instructions accompanied with whipping in vengeful rage.

Ozumba had watched his less physical kinsmen suffer at the hand of their tormentors. Some being kicked, slapped, spit on and called infidels to crown a perfect hate.

He bled in his heart for the life they led. He mourned for his living brothers who would better and gladly embrace the peace that comes with death. He knew they were all but a walking deads except an intervention through the act of God.

Then and there, the sense of responsibility struck him on his heart. The words of the dead elder came ringing in his head;

'Our days of liberation are upon us'

Questioning himself with vicious command he asked;

If not now, when?

If not here, where?

If not you, who?

A guard had noticed his inactivity for a while and accosted him, threatening to rain hell on him with his lashes.

Ozumba was lost in his thoughts. The voice of the threatening guard sounded consumed and distant to him, like a bunch of nonsense signifying nothing.

The guard grew livid by the overt affront from this mean man. He let fall his whip in growing anger.

It continued unrelenting, but Ozumba made no movements nor feign pains in knowledge of the lashes.

Trickles of blood mixed with sweat, streamed down his back. Then at the sight of his blood from the whip, he grabbed the guard's hand and swept him off his feet with the very last strength he had. For a second or two, the guard was suspended in nothingness of the air, he landed to a strudy rock on the floor and his skill dashed open. Red was the colour of the scene.

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CHECK OUT THE VOLUME ONE: UJEH: Sins of the fathers