The Election Theft

The atmosphere was far from peaceful and the legs scampering towards safety was enough evidence to prove that trouble had once again escape from the tight grip of peace and the people not suspicious of its arrival and unprepared for its menace were now the victims too far from salvation. Then came the announcement that everyone had expected, feared and prayed against. The gunshots were mean and terrible and every sound boasted 'i am above all' as youths whose concern at their age, which should be tied to their books were now the happy fingers playing with that dangerous trigger as their demand for the ballot box is swiftly attended to. This is the scenario of a typical election day in Nigeria as many people would come to remember it for a long time to come. While others practice their democracy, take their time to cast their votes and decide with good judgment who to become their leaders, others groomed by these same political leaders who by their real intentions are undoubtedly hypocrites pick up arms against their fellow country men and create very dark moments of fear and oppressions at polling centers all for the price of financial benefits. The election that brought Chief Timipre Sylva into power as the governor of Bayelsa State is a perfect example of a well staged electoral malpractice that is almost magical to the senses for never before had electoral thievery looked so righteous and peaceful unlike those in the past in which violence is the hallmark but despite the calmness we were certain the thieving and creation of illegal votes in the secret chambers was seriously thriving even at that moment. That morning was so quite and it was so obvious for all to see that it has been designed to be a very special day because it would be the only day until the next four years before Bayelsians would have the chance to vote in another corrupt leader to lead them to no where. I walked through the streets, i saw the police van stationed at strategic places, i felt the quietness and could count every breathing being around me, it was like the hours charged by curfew. I moved from here to there in search of a polling center and behold as i moved the more i came closer to the reality that Bayelsians rather than vote were feeling more inclined to remain inside their houses watching home videos than waste their time with another display of dishonesty. The polling centers were all empty but in our hearts we knew a new leader would emerge without our votes, in fact it is a shared view that in Bayelsa and Nigeria at large President, Governors and local government heads are hand picked by the mighty few, weeks before the election day but still we are curious until the last minute when our suspicion is confirmed and another corruption installed. I waited for the news and when it arrived all i could say like the many others was 'WHY THE CORRUPTION, WHY THE ELECTORAL THEFT'

The First Attempt

The journey into the future is like a long thrust into that abysmal confusion in which uncertainty takes the larger command over events and the confidence to believe in hope becomes a nightmare.we begin to fear despite the conviction from within begging us to push, and when eventually we push ourselves to the starting point the same fear returns, this time greater than before. Because those already in the field does not only protect thier territory but are just too competent and talented that our humble request to be alloted a small portion in this field of ink and papers would no doubt sound as a terrible insult upon thier efforts and intelligence which in their designed capacity has made NIGERIANS PROUD. But i am a Nigerian and the duty to do my own share of possitive thinking and embark on that creative journey rather than idleness and its likes gives me no other choice but the effrontery to dear the gods. And so i make The First Attempt. The First Attempt is about my choice to move, to push despite my fears that i might fail, that i am nothing before the others. It is my first book, a collection of four short stories to help me test the rough waters that writers struggles through amidst the drowning criticisms i fear might kill me before i start. I will paste one of the stories titled 'OKORO'. ENJOY it and please remember that i have only just started. Feel free to let me know what you think. The book can be purchased online at http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-first-attempt/7847965]

OKORO

CHAPTER ONE

What in the name of stupidity could actually make a man pay for his own suffering if not the sort to make heaven grumble and God in his mercies feign ignorance to the troubles of man. A stupidity that could make a new born child suddenly acquire the gift of talking, only to say. “Foolish”

Okoro had seen times and experienced moments, he was a man fully advanced in age. Some said sixty, others said sixty five but whenever it was his chance to answer, all he would ever say would come out slowly to form the saying “I was already a mature man before Nigeria saw independence”

Whenever he was around his presence would create an ambiance of relaxed peace and his friends hungry for his stories made laughter the plaudits for his never ending lies. He was a story teller with an archive reaching back into his plenty years in life. He was a man that could tirelessly count words but never spoke of the matters that most mattered to them which was tied to the way his life was so alone despite his money. They wanted to know if his heart had ever married but he was ever quick to close that chapter whenever they tried looking too deep. He lived alone and they wondered why.

The compound had two gates. Each gates stood at both ends. One was large, the other was small and the compound had this inner u shaped passage that connected the two. He was merry as always and felt his blood boil; he rubbed his hands in sweet expectation. Knowing the compound held what he had in many years helped through time and maturity and would eventually own.

The woman welcomed him. He sat down feeling important, his eyes was constantly fixed on Agnes who had long rushed to his side since his arrival. She smiled and talked little but in all she showed the very signals of excitement that he had hoped and expected.

He was a man who knew how things were done and so had not come alone; a polythene bag filled with beverages and bottles of sealed refreshment spoke on his behalf. He understood things, they discussed, and they laughed. Then the little brother of Agnes with sense ripe enough to stage a domestic coup entered. He was still angry with his elder sister who had returned from school without the usual gifts that was the ritual but yet he spoke.

“Sister you have a visitor” He said

“Tell the person to come in” Okoro did not wait for her to answer.

“I think it is better I meet the person outside, I will be back” She was afraid not to upset him so she spoke with caution. She went outside and there he was smiling, she smiled back feeling happy.

The two of them had met some three months ago. He was handsome, she was beautiful and the attraction came from both sides. They began to seeing each other and the rest was history as they took the strides, crossed the boundaries and as some would say fell in love

“Hi” He said with obvious affection.

“What are u doing here?” She asked her voice down to the barest minimum as if her voice might upset the ears if allowed to go over the fence. She moved closer before asking. “I hope you are ready to take me out?” He nodded, held her hands and dragged her outside. At that moment it became possible not to fear nor think about Okoro.

He had waited for too long, she had been gone for almost an hour and it dampened his mood. She had grown big and beautiful and it was no news admirers would come in their drove. He was happy to see the changes but still he could feel the restlessness that was the other side of it. The time was getting to the point when Agnes would finally become his but her absence was like a terrible comma to that sentence. He was angry.

Back then he was way younger than the picture of the present. He had gone to visit a friend and the friend in turn was the one who carried him to the SHOP. The shop at this time was in its happiest as men in their numbers paid constant homage to its door front, it made many men lose their head more than anything in the world and alcohol was its minion. It was here his eyes fell on Agnes, then a small girl without the slightest inkling of what she had on her little age. She was part of the reasons these men came in their large numbers, they all wanted to feel Agnes.

But Okoro was a man who knew how to get the things he needed in life. How he did it was unknown but at the end of the meeting an agreement was reached and Agnes the little girl blessed with the body of an adult became the responsibility of Okoro. Her every expenditure became his concern; he paid from his purse and smiled afterwards, not even ready to caution her excesses. The shop became his home as his attempt to please Agnes mum involved buying more bottles of alcohol. He became the Santa of the liquor house and all were made happy. Okoro loved his new responsibility and he poured money into his new long time project with a righteous heart as if the money were been channeled into a cathedral for God. From her secondary education to her University, he took charge and was happy about it.

In due course she finished with her secondary education and migrated into the fields of higher learning. He was there to foot the bill and roof her material taste. Years brought them closer and the words of feelings conveyed through letters became constant. In Okoro’s eyes Agnes was the best of all his eyes had ever seen until things began to take an ugly turn.

He was forced to wonder if truly the letters were at all from Agnes as things became uglier like the worse feeling any man in the middle of war would ever come to feel. He had sent words in advance; he had expected her to prepare for his coming but when he got to the campus he was too ashamed to finally agree with reality that Agnes had deliberately switched off her phone and avoided his presence. He was an old man in love with too much already invested so despite his pains, he entered the journey, returned home and tried to forget about it.

Life had brought many women to his bed; his money had negotiated for the best and he was always there to enjoy himself when women were the matters before him, their warmth was his pride and he did all to enjoy his consumer’s right. But since that day when his agreement became law, when he took over the responsibility of another man and called it love, with free will before his very eyes he went after foolishness and opted to wear on the sweat of celibacy for a girl too young to be mature. From that day of the agreement he had come to see and feel pains only imagined but still he continued, hoping. Pains too bad for his aging heart and shame too insulting for his gray hair became the constant pranks from Agnes which were now like bad weather in raining seasons which nothing normal was ever going to stop. He was now the beast and his age was the fault and Agnes the beauty was not at all the sort to become too romantic to the extent of falling, even when the beast was her greatest help.

The house was now as uncomfortable as it should for any eyes which had seen its

Mother’s own nakedness in the open. The laughter had long faded away and they sat in silence.

“I want her now, I can no longer wait” He said breaking the silence.

“Agnes will be back soon and we will put the matter down” Mama Agnes answered.

He sneezed and his eyes watered. She looked at him and could see the old days, when men worshiped her services and were ready to pay so their heads could become heavy and too lazy to think the way that it was intended to. But like every other human endeavor with a life span the Shop suddenly loosed focus and its customer became evasive and soon she was sitting at home doing nothing. Okoro was there for them; his presence was treated like word from heaven and he blessed them with every visit. It was a responsibility he was ready to take on and even though she had a husband she had come in the past years to depend more on Okoro to bring sustenance. Her husband was the useless type lost to alcohol and it did not matter to him that his daughter at the time of the agreement was been sent into a marriage contract, instead in celebration he stayed out the entire night, bathing in the Jacuzzi of alcohol.

As a Mother she was quick to see the changes. The boys came, they men came and no matter how she talked Agnes already too in love with material things would without worry give herself to them, they came, collected what they were so in need of and would go their way leaving Agnes to continue trading herself. The rumors began to travel fast and soon people were saying she was the queen of every party on campus, even when the invitation cards had done a pretty job of deliberately excluding her from the parade she was always to been seen hawking herself for the bouncers as ticket to an uninvited fun.

“He is an old man” She had shouted once when her mother became too much of a pest to handle.

Mama Agnes in her best efforts had tried to bring Agnes to her senses but to no avail. She would not listen to her. No matter how she designed the questions Agnes was there with answers, it was as if she had no conscience and her Mother felt more confused than ever.

“I will pay him back one day” Agnes had said without pity for Okoro. Nor the mature mind that would have appreciated his sweats, money spent, time soon to become wasted waiting for a time of deserved reward which somehow had become too corrupt to accept the practice of due process and dutifully decide to honor her contract even if it meant another twenty years of life tending to an old man who must either had gone blind or suffering from stroke by then to get himself too worried about regrets

She would have long ended the agreement but each time she brought the matter before Okoro, without giving full ears to her explanations he would defend Agnes. She had become the one the two of them were so quick to disagree with but still her sympathy for Okoro blamed her for not protecting the man who had suffered so much keeping her family afloat. A man who had come to hate reality, covering up for the obvious show of disregard with “She is just a child”

Time was moving faster and the hours by the minute were getting more pregnant and Okoro was no longer himself. She wanted to tell him but was afraid, but how could she tell him that Agnes had never been interested in him but greedily had set before herself the sinful task of taking from him as much as could be extracted from his large purse. He stood up, unable to continue with the moment in peace. At that same instant that lad who had called Agnes to her visitor returned, a small nylon bag held his goodies for him.

“Mama Look at what Aunty Agnes’s friend bought for me” He said, his white teeth displaying his innocence. “She told me she will marry him and he promised to buy me ice cream whenever he comes visiting. He has a car, a big one”

She could say nothing but look at him even though she had badly wanted to squeeze that mouth. She tried but it was too late as Okoro in anger dashed out of the house, shouting Agnes. As if a simple shout of anger would dissuade the inevitable from touching the theater of dramatized facts which old men like himself would quickly find disturbing and probably die from.

By the time he returned the night sky had gone dark. He smelled of alcohol and his breath was a murderer in its own right, his eyes were dark as red and his inside cried in rage. He entered without knocking; he looked around at their troubled faces before asking. “Where is she?”

Mama Agnes could feel the foreboding of a terrible outcome; she feared the worse would suddenly come out from nowhere and without hesitation break the bridge which had so solidly connected them this past many years and in its chaos spell an eternal doom, not for her daughter but for Okoro whose age alone was a burden weighing too much on his shoulders.

“She hasn’t return” It wasn’t easy looking into his eyes but she tried.

She saw the lines on his cheek where the tears had earlier touched and she hated her daughter for it. Now more than ever she blamed herself for not becoming the successful enemy from within even when it was her daughter who would have been paraded through the market square a whore, her reason which had been designed to see her daughter graduate from the university was now nothing when placed on the scale of moral value, for her conscience was just too bitter and could no longer stand the sight of a man the age of her own father crying for what he had suffered so much to bring to a taste other men were now making difficult even for him to have access to, though she knew age was a frustrating factor to the whole arrangement, she still believed that a contract agreed upon is worth honoring..

He had invested so much on her and had never before questioned the sanity of his actions until this moment when everything else had taken the ugly and tiring form of nausea. He had refused to bring this chapter of his life to the notice of most of his friends and those who knew were always quick to frown and show their objections and now he knew why.

“What normal man would chose to spend his money on the future of a woman and expect to smile at the end” A friend of his had once asked. And it was not long before the two of them became enemies, his friend outraged by the matter would not let sleeping dog lie. He was alone with no body to cry to, no body to understand and no body to share his grief with, the pains were just too much but he endured, waiting for Agnes to return. He sat on their frontage and waited, for his future wife to come home, to the judgment that was certainly going nowhere.

The time was past eleven before Agnes with her hands filled with fast food eateries returned. She had almost recounted her steps but Okoro was quick to notice her emerging presence. Her eyes were shocked to still meet Okoro at her frontage silently cursing his person.

“Where are you coming from” He asked, for reasons unknown the rage that had so waited the return could not shout to announce its presence as if Agnes had somehow melted its salt.

She faced him without showing her fear; she knew he was not a man of violence at least not when she was the person involved but she could also tell that her action was the sort to give the terribly impotent sudden power in bed and this frightened her. Okoro was her fool and even at this moment she could see the light of hope still lurking above the darkness that was Okoros indecision to take proper action.

“I will go inside, drop my things and we shall go to a nice hotel after which I will explain myself” She spoke with authority.

He wanted to stop her, wanted to make her pay for the disdain and shame her actions had brought this past hours but he was an old man in love who could never know the ways of the cunning youths of the present, so like the gentle fool he was he allowed her. For some men the hardship of life, poverty and misfortunes were the only forces that could effortlessly tame them but for Okoro the reverse was the case, he could defile hard times and come out laughing but Agnes that little girl who had once called him Uncle was the force to bend his will and make tears drop, how foolish he was to freely accept the lead and mislead of a woman.

Her Mother shouted, her voice threatened to bring down the roof, she listened, her face the shape of faked remorse and in response to the present query from her Mother all she did was beg for a little piece of quiet.

He was waiting for her, his mind divided by the different possibilities that could have led to the long absence and even though he tried to be objective in his thinking his hearts was still not at peace for it was convinced of the ugly fact that Agnes was a terrible cheat with an outrageous sense of adventure which his old heart no matter the circumstance would never find pleasing.

She came out, gave him her purse and cardigan as if nothing ugly had earlier transpired between them with the excuse of going to the bath room and again he was ready to wait. Only a fool can live through another dejavu and not see the similarities and bad itch that made the other unpleasant. He had waited for another thirty minutes and would have continued in his foolishness had Mama Agnes not come out to meet the absence of Agnes and decided to check the bath rooms. Moments later she was back with a sad report. “Agnes is not there”

He dropped the items to the ground and rushed to the other side of the compound where the bath rooms were situated and was quick to confirm his foolishness. The small gate became his exit as he ran outside, straight into the busy streets in search of Agnes.

He was crying as he returned, the tears were fully fledged and his voice was enough measurement of how his inside now rubbished by emotional chaos was having hard time coming to terms with the pains boldly unleashed by Agnes. The eyes that saw him wondered, the ears asked why while the lips of most of them sighed, not feeling his frustration at all but rather begging for the worse to come out from the abyss with the teaching that will torment him for the remainder of his life, brushing the fact to perfect clarity of why an old man must never bring himself into business with a female too below the maturity suitable for old age.

It no longer matter what his suppose future in laws felt so he cried out her name to put emphasis on the reason why his life had become so sad and shameful. The compounds in the area gathered, their attention was the righteous sort and he narrated his woes with every single drop. Eventually their sympathy became audible.

“Sorry, such is life, it will get better” Filled the air as the women tried to console him. Agnes who had been their beloved was now the Judas they now wanted to stone. But this was not the case with the male folks who could not hide their annoyance at the foolishness of an old man like Okoro investing on a girl old enough only to be his granddaughter with the intention of marriage in mind. Some held back their irritation while others too angry at Okoro for misrepresenting men worldwide were bold to shout. “Old fool”

The time came and even the night tired of an old man without shame went to sleep, he was left alone to nurse his wounds. Mama Agnes had tried her best but he would not come inside for the night since he had vowed to wait for Agnes to come back before business of that kind would find a place in his heart worthy of consideration. When the time became too lonely and his resolve almost lost to drowsiness he stood up and led himself to the outside road where the activities of nightlife were gradually taking shape.

The bar played loud music, the prostitutes paraded themselves and the crowd frolicking in their sins paid no attention to morality as each of every one of them struggled to get the best out of the moment. He was among them, trying in his best efforts to kill his pains through excessive alcohol, and then he saw the car come to a stop in front of the bar. Out came the heavily built guy and to the shocking surprise of Okoro there was Agnes beside the individual with the car which was so flashy, attracting eyes from their various concern to worship the beauty.

They took a table for themselves, drinks were brought, and the other appetite killers were the next to follow. They laughed, they discussed and Agnes was evidently happy with herself, not even with the smallest visible clue to the so recent episode she had left still unfinished.

He looked at her and wondered if she had no conscience at all, he had sent her to school, helped her family and for this alone he was entitled to her respect but which was never the case as Agnes was so quick to show, He looked at her and could see an ingrate gone professional, he stood up and walked towards their table.

She felt her head swell, she saw Okoro face and knew this time the trouble had come to stay. He dragged out the empty chair and sat down. He peered into the eyes of Tony who was so surprise at the uninvited guest that for a moment he remained speechless not knowing what road to take. Then he managed to open his mouth.

“What can I do for you?” Tony asked, expecting to hear the ranting of a drunk gone over the edge.

“Young man you have insulted me” Said Okoro.

Tony had expected it and so he laughed like a mad man before saying. “Ok I will buy another drink”

Okoro was angry as he replied. “I say I want my wife, she is my wife”

Tony was silent as he looked towards Agnes who was fast with her answer.

“That is the way he has been harassing me, an area drunk who would not leave me alone” her denial was piercing to the soul and Okoro was again the victim.

“Indeed I am an old fool” with this he began to cry, heavily.

Every man was created to partake in the ills of life but to be insulted in this manner, be denied by the one who have seen your best and charity was in many words the worse of bad times. He stood up and demanded that Agnes come with him. She declined and the madness which for hours had been begging to be unleashed finally caught fresh air and inhaled strength. He grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet but Tony was there to pull back.

He heard the bottle break but his anger would not listen.

“She is not going anywhere” Tony countered his voice as angry as expected.

He was tall; the type of fellow with strength to start a mini riot and would come out victorious and in his clenched fist was the broken bottle waiting to prove itself. Okoro on the other hand had his age to be worried about, he was not at all fit for the moment but his anger would not relent.

He went for Tony and in the suddenness of the moment the two of them dropped to the ground. The bar gathered round, no hands went forward to do what was the right thing to do, instead they stood, watching as Tony gave Okoro the beating of his life.

She stood there, but when the beating became more violent, she begged and

Tony stood up pleased with himself for beating his father’s mate. If shame had never before been ashamed of itself, then Okoro certainly with this moment had allowed the impossible. Tony had not used the bottle but blood covered the face of Okoro. He stood up crying, the loud music had since reached a forced end and so Okoro’s voice was as the crickets and frogs of the night. He walked out from the bar, his tail between his legs.

The bar was back to its usual self when Okoro suddenly reappeared. From where at that time of the night he had found himself a machete was a mystery but never the less he came back with one in hand. He did not bother to inform her but left immediately for safety. She was surprised but when she looked up she understood why and followed her boy friend.

She was the one that started the shout as Okoro pursued them into another street in the middle of the night, Tony joined her and in no time the atmosphere was reeling with. Thief! Thief!

He could hear the footsteps gearing up to join strength. He saw the doors open, the sound of iron rods been dragged from their sleeping places by hands too hungry for violence but before his voice could put up his defense, that he was not a thief, a piece of block already thrown by one of the angry hands from behind him came forward with full force and pushed him to the ground. Even as he fell he had desperately wanted to explain himself but that piece of block was the Devil which in its cruelty had dislodged his abilities, replacing them with pure pains.

When things like this take the full stage, God in his mercies might interfere and the victim by miracle would have survived the moments, but for God to have involved himself would have been so unfair for never before had any one receive so much demonstrated fury and live to tell the tale.

She shouted for them to stop but when the Devil sits on the saddle nothing was bound to go the normal mile. She cursed them, she went violent on most of them and since she was no stranger in her own neighborhood they did not return her violence as she took time to explain that “he is my husband”. But the crowd was just too much to cover with her little shouts when compared to the growling that was then the atmosphere.

She was crying, they had by this time relaxed their angry violence and she knelt by his body calling. “Okoro! Okoro! Come back, I am ready, come back” But it was already pass the hour of grace and needing not a doctor they all knew that he was no longer with them. She cried, she begged for his return but Okoro was finally on that journey into the great beyond where God or Satan must have to punish him for been so stupid.

The End