Edge – Episode 2

African Stories
// 16 June 2017
Edge Episode 2

 

From the sixth floor of Dominica Hospital where you stood, you could see the high towers of Holy trinity Catholic Church. The beautiful expanse of the ancient city laid bare before you.

 

The sun was half hidden in the clouds like a virgin bride holding her limbs. Its golden rays fell on the rusty corrugated zinc of houses lined in irregular patterns but you didn’t notice. That day was not for sightseeing. Obinna’s words still resounded in your ears like the echoes of a nightmare…

 

What is your decision, Chinua?

What is your decision, Chinua?

 

Even up until when you were stuck in the aimless gaze, you still did not know what to do.

 

You were a mass server for God’s sake. Stealing or worse, kidnapping was never expected to be part of you. Whether you succeeded or failed, it was a grave sin.

 

Sin? Sin? Damn God for putting you in such situation. You thought the godforsaken Bible promised that one cannot be tried beyond what one could bear. Wasn’t your mother’s illness more than what you could bear? How many landed property have you sold already?

Your room had become a barren land. All your pricey belongings had all been sold off, yet the sore still deepened.

 

Your face creased into deep frown. Your fingers tightened around the iron bars of the window. Your breath rose and fell. Your legs trembled. You slowly reached for Silver crucifix hanging around your neck. With a tug, you yanked it off.

You turned around.  Ifeoma was still sited beside your mother. Her flowery blue gown almost blended with the bed sheets. The plate of rice in her hand was still untouched. Your mother had refused to eat for two days, nothing had seemed to change.

 

Your shoulders drooped like the breasts of an old woman. Two drops of tears escaped your grip of control. You heard footsteps. A soft palm slid across the planes of your shoulders, gently easing the tension of the muscles.

 

Hmmmmmmmm… You breathed in.

Baliac perfume.

 

You had bought it for her last valentine.  Ifeoma! Your sanity. You’d been surprised how she’d stood by you in this ordeal.  Her eyes held a promise that tomorrow will be better.

 

O ga adimma, Chinua. It will be well,” She said. Her voice held a tremor. Your mother’s state discouraged every hope of hope.

 

“How? You asked brokenly. “Where will I get 800,000 thousand Naira?”

 

“Don’t worry, dear.” She said, resting her head on your chest. “God will provide.”

 

“Indeed,” You chuckled. “Tonight, I will become my own God.” You thought as your eyes glowed with new flames.

 

 

With Love!

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African Stories

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