THE RETURN

There are experiences that you go through and it changes you forever. The way you talk, think and behave get altered for life. With such experiences, you hardly want to talk about them, not because you lack the words but either because the words don’t seem to express what you went through well enough or that those listening may not really understand the gravity of what you are sharing with them. I had one of such experiences recently – if something that happened over three years ago qualifies.

Large beads of sweat trickled down my back as I recalled what had happened. The day started out like any other, I had gone to the bush market to get my usual supply of kuli-kuli which I resell in the city. When I got to the motor park, I hit my left leg on a stone before boarding the bus and at that moment, I remembered Grandpa in his boisterous manner telling me that hitting your left leg was a sign of bad luck. I laughed, Grandpa always had ridiculous tales and reasons for a lot of things; one of such being that a person sneezes when he is been talked about somewhere. We were cramped up in the bus like sardines in a can, with little or no leg room for most of us. The boot of the bus wasn’t an exception as it was overflowing with goods – as most of us were merchants – and had to be left partially open, though tied down with ropes to ensure nothing fell out.

We began our journey and were thirty minutes away from the city when the bus stopped. I assumed it was the regular check points on the road-which were originally set up to check criminal activities through the stop and search they did, but in recent times, these check points turned to money collection points were the officers collected money from drivers without bothering to check what or who they were transporting. I had been chatting on my phone and only looked up when I heard what seemed like a gunshot.

There had been tales, about how kidnappers hijacked vehicles along this route, however, since it has been my regular route and I’d never seen anything like that before, I’d concluded they were just tales-until today when I looked out the window and saw men welding guns.

“Come down.”

A man out there said, he voice sounded like a thousand megaphones combined. Maybe it’s this erratic heartbeat of mine, making my eardrums amplify the sounds or maybe it’s the fear and realization of what might happen to us or probably adrenaline according to Biology.

“Stay by that side of the road as you come down.” another said. Pointing to the pedestrian walkway by the right.

It was as if I’d become weightless and was blown to the walkway by the wind for I couldn’t remember walking there but there I was, standing together with others from the other two buses.

“Make nobody hide o, if you dey hide for inside car better comot. If I catch person for car na die be that o.” Another one said as he moved his gun this way and that.

At that moment, if a pin had dropped, it would sound like a rock as we all stood still. I was suddenly feeling very cold as my body began to shake like a dry leaf shaking in the strong harmattan breeze.

He went to the first bus and looked inside, then to the second. I saw his eyes crinkle like he had just smiled then he walked to the door of the bus.

“Please don’t shoot me.” A voice which sounded tearful said from the bus.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. So I talk say make everybody come down but you still get mind hide for inside car abi?”

He cocked his gun, as the man kept saying please and he shoot at him. Turning towards us he said,

“if una like una self, make una behave o because person wey do anyhow go see anyhow.”

As he went on to check the last bus, one man came with a bag and collected our phones after which the other men shoved us into the buses again with them being amongst us and driving too. They drove into the bush for a while before stopping. They ordered us out, positioned themselves round us and asked us to move. We trekked nonstop until night fall, two people who had been unable to keep up where shot dead on the way. This alone made my feet keep moving even though my whole body felt like it wasn’t mine and I was only observing from a distance. I knew that I didn’t want to be shot neither did I want my body rottening in this bush nor have my spirit roaming the earth because Grandpa said that is what happens to the spirits of those who die a violent death.

When we got to what seemed to be their camp, we were cramped into a room which stank terribly. By morning, when the first rays of light penetrated through the gaps in the doorframe and window frame, I saw a body, it was a man who seemed to have been dead for some time as maggots had already started oozing out of his body. My stomach began to rumbled and felt chills as it dawned on me that this might happen to me if I didn’t do anything to get out of here. The men came a little later with our phones; each one of us was handed back their phones and they asked us to line up. They used our phones to contact our loved ones for ransom payments after which they took back the phones and left.

For days we were left in this room with the decaying body and got fed water and bread once a day. I don’t know how many days passed but with each day, I prayed fervently for God to send us help. As the days passed, our numbers began to reduce, I suppose those who left had loved ones who must have been able to pay the ransom required. I thought about my family; there was no way they could raise that money. The ransom the men demanded when they called Baba was ten million. Hmmm, ten million! Baba that had never ever had a million to his name talk more of ten.

My prayers seemed to have finally gotten to God’s ears after plenty days when we were finally opened to come out of the room where we had been locked, by this time it was just a few of us left. It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the blinding splendor of the raising sun as I stepped out into the open. It felt good to finally see the sun and not being locked up in that stinking room.

The place was a little clearing with five rooms built side by side, forming a circle with thick bushes as the surroundings. By night fall when we were still left outside, I felt it was now or never. I stood up as though I’d wanted to ease myself and made a run for the bushes…

By the time they realised what I was doing and started shooting, I was already in the bushes. I guess they must have figured that I wasn’t going to survive out here in the bushes because before long, they stopped chasing and shooting at me. I ran as fast as my legs wound permit, I don’t know for how long I ran but dark clouds seemed to have enveloped my eyes at some point as they became dark, my ears felt like they had been loaded with lead as I could no longer hear a thing and I couldn’t move a finger as my whole body felt limp. Later on when my eyes seemed to have regained their function, I saw white walls, this must be heaven. How did I even die? Was I eaten by wild animals or did I just slump and die? As these questions ran through my brain, the logical thing to do felt like looking around to find where Jesus was so he could answer my questions. As I turned to do just that, I saw Mama sitting in a chair, head bowed, reading her Bible. When did Mama die? As I contemplated this question, she looked up. Her eyes looked like someone who had been crying for days, on seeing that I was looking at her she ran out shouting,

“Doctor… Nurse… She’s awake.”