The Invalid Citizen And Other Stories

* * * * * * 

On the day of the burial, the youths of Godere hired a lorry to Apele. Ovie had brought police to safeguard the corpse in the mortuary. The irate youths charmed the police officers and collected their guns. The force men were fixated while the youths entered the mortuary and carried the casket.

They put the coffin in a car and released the police officers from the spell. They gave the police officers heavy slaps on the cheeks and kicks on the buttocks.

“This is a fair warning never to intrude on the activities of Godere youths. We will spare your lives. It is the solemn day of our brother’s funeral rite. Count one another lucky because our battle is not with you but with that misguided child of the deceased,” said the youth leader. He made a threatening move and the police officers scampered out of his way.

The youths gave the police officers menacing look before they got into the vehicle. The police officers ran into different hideouts until they zoomed off.

The Police Inspector of the squad was new to the locale. His junior officers had resisted the task to guard the corpse but he had threatened them with their jobs.

“Oga, now you see what we had told you. Nobody messes with Godere youths,” a Sergeant said. He saluted the Police Inspector. The Inspector wiped dotted sweat off his forehead.

In many disputes, that Godere community was involved peacekeepers did not interfere. Any Security Commander posted to the area always mounted pressure to get transfer. When situations went awry, it was not easy to restore peace in the community. The peacekeepers always stayed in the outskirt of the community. They feared the clash between communities could crush them overnight if they rested in their temporal quarters.

The youths drove to their relative’s mansion in Apele. They disseminated tents, toppled chairs, and tables. Some of them carted away with the foods and drinks. The burial took place in Godere.

Ovie was furious at the turn of event. He slammed his palm on the wall, “Damn! I cannot believe they easily carted away with my father’s corpse.”

His friend clasped him on the shoulder, “their potency was mightier, Ovie, let it be. Let your father’s soul find rest. You have troubled his body enough. I think we should go to the village and apologise.”

Ovie brushed his hand aside, “Dave, you bother over little things. My father has not been buried, they dare not.”

“Were you deaf when uncle Mamus said he witnessed the burial? Were you blind when he showed us pictures of the ceremony? Ovie get this straight, they have put your father in the ground and covered him with dust. It is over.”

“No, it is not over. We shall exhume his body and bury him where he belongs.”

“I think you’ve gone mad. It is so hot in here,” Dave went to the bar and fixed himself a glass of juice with ice cubes.

“I am not. However, I will be. I will be mad if we do not do right by my father.”

“Forget it Ovie, your father is resting in Godere, peacefully. We will go and apologise.”

“We will get his body. Come on, Dave, we have to do this. You promised you got my back on this.”

“Well, I have reached my final limits to that selfless oath I took. Count me out on this one,” Dave sipped his drink.

“You can take the first flight back to the city,” Ovie said. “I shall do it myself.” Dave cocked an eyebrow.

Ovie’s mother walked in, “you will do no such thing. Son, what is wrong with you. Was this how your father and I raised you? For goodness sake, what has come over you? Stop this madness please.”

Ovie pointed at his mother, “You are a traitor for going over to Godere for his burial. Stay out of this, mother. You will not meddle in my affairs.”

“This is my late husband you are raving about. I will not be silent and watch you disregard your father. Let him rest in peace. What is so special about burying him here? You will honour your father’s request. His last wish was to rest in Godere despite your insistence.”

“Everybody should stay clear of my decisions. I will not hesitate to crush anyone that comes in the way.”

His mother stood close to him, their faces inches apart, “where were you when Godere youths were at their best, coward.”

“Mother, you will not taunt me in that manner. Do not dare me.”

Mamus walked in, “Ovie, do not talk to your mother that way,” he said.

Her tone softened. “Calm down, my son. Your father was a traditionalist, and his clan has given him the burial rites that accorded his faith. You should apologise to your relatives. They shall grant you the honour of completing the final rites.”

“That will be over my dead body. I shall bury my father the way I want.”

“Ovie, you talk like an insane man,” she thundered.

“Oh, just shut up, mother.”

“Ovie, watch your utterances.” His uncle gave him a slap, “she is my sister, your mother and your father’s widow.”

The force of the slap moved Ovie’s face sideway. It took a while before Ovie turned his neck and faced his uncle. He flexed his shoulder. “Uncle, you slapped me?” he asked unbelievably.

“Yes, and believe me, I will slap you countless times if you say another disrespectful word to your mother. I have endured your nonsense for this long because you are my nephew, but no more. I thought your behaviour was born out of the frustration of losing your father. I looked upon you as a child with some tantrums, oh, Ovie; I forgot you are no more a child. I must look like a fool for supporting you all these while. I tried to convince you it is the way of your father’s people to bury him according to custom.” Ovie shook his head. He bowed to his mother and left the house.

Dave could not look at Ovie’s mother. He went into the room and returned with his bag, “I am sorry, please forgive me ma. I will leave for the city at once.” He left the house to take a commercial bus.

In the midnight, Ovie took some men to evacuate his father’s coffin and buried it in Apele. Day and night, there was sorrowful cry of an adult man. This made the neighbours lost sleep. They requested Ovie and his family to come to their house and find out the mystery.

“I have played the oracle; it says your father’s spirit is restless at where he was buried,” said Mamus.

“I said it. I said my father should not be buried in the village.” Ovie fervently said.

“Shut up. Your father’s spirit is not restless in Godere. Someone removed his body from his grave. Ovie, your father’s spirit desire to be back in his root, someone removed your father’s body and put that of a dead stranger. His soul cries in Godere. He said whoever exhumed his body should bring it back to its rightful place.”

Ovie‘s mother turned on him with suspicion, “Ovie, where have you kept his body?”

“I do not know, you should ask his relatives. Ask them if they took the body from the morgue and buried it in Godere or if they did something else with your husband’s body.”

His mother slapped him. “Ovie, tell us what you have done with your father’s body?”

“I said I do not know. Do you people want to force a lie out of my mouth?” Ovie shouted.

A thunderous slap landed on Ovie’s cheek. It was his mother that slapped him, “Tell me where my husband is you foolish child! If you don’t tell me in a second, I will get naked and curse you here and now!”

Ovie quickly ran towards the hallway. His family followed him. Ovie had buried his father in one of the guest bedrooms.

“This is an abomination. Ovie, what have you done to your father?” Mamus calmly asked.

His mother covered her mouth in shock, “I was right. You are mad,” she said.

“I just wanted to bury my father the way I want. This is his house, is it not? It is a tradition to also bury people in their houses?” Ovie slid to the floor and cried, “I have a right to bury my father the way I want.”

Ovie’s mother invited some youths to take the corpse back to Godere. Ovie paid some money as a levy for his act. The villagers pardoned Ovie and allowed him perform the final rites of the burial.

Four

The Danger of Self Medication 

Iya tried to feed her son some herbal mixture. The child’s flaying legs toppled the cup and the brown liquid content spilled on some coloured panties stacked on a low bench. Iya hissed at the mess. She imprisoned his tiny legs with her arm, and used the other to pin down his hands. She smiled at the workable tactics.

She poured another warm brew from the flask into the cup. Iya held her son’s nose. Due to blockade of his nose, the baby breathed through his mouth. She poured the herbal brew into his tiny mouth and the medicine gurgle down his throat. His mother let go of him. He let out a cry and began kicking his leg in protest of the bitter taste.

Sissy came by the store, “it is wrong to give such a little baby agbo-herbal mixture to drink,” she took the baby from his mother. She gently rubbed his back and fanned his face with her mouth. The baby stopped crying and hiccupped.

“It works well for sugar belly,” Iya said. She stood up and separated the good pants from the stained pants, “how will I recover this loss?” She looked worn-out.

“That is your business, Iya, so figure a way out. I am angry with you. I just went to the slaughterhouse to get meat and you fed him agbo.”

“I only wanted to cure his belly off sugar.”

“Iya, you only gave him a wrap of chocolate to eat. Children actually need sugar for growth, it helps them become bright.”

“That chocolate was too sweet. All the worms in his tummy will be dancing by now.”

“That is why you should deworm your child in every three months,” Sissy raised three fingers to Iya’s face.

“Sissy, three months is too far. The agbo that I have given him will make my husband and I sleep well at night.”

“Iya, this mixture is dangerous. The pharmaceuticals are not fools for making drugs that weaken and eliminate worms. Unknowing, you might be feeding him poison.”

“Agbo worked for me, it will work for my child.”

“It did work for you, yes. How well does it work for you? When last did you go to the hospital for check-up? Perhaps, in our days, the natural foods we fed on revitalized these strong herbs. You attended antenatal at the hospital, do not desist from their medical prescriptions for your baby. Agbo is not an approved medicine by NAFDAC or WHO. Most of these herbalists just brew all sorts of leaves and tree stems without accurate measurement and sell to people.”

“My sister, agbo works at any time and on anybody. The midwives sanction agbo for ila-measles treatment. You know, and I know that it works well. Agbo is a component of powerful herbs.”

“Yes, I know, but the substance you constantly give to your child, I have my doubts. Please stop giving my fine baby this stuff to drink. His system may not agree with it.”

“But his system agrees with eating sweets? Hmmm, he will drink agbo to wash out the sweetness.” The baby urinated on Sissy. “Oh, dear, I am sorry; he has ruined your dress.”

“It is okay. Why did you not wear him diapers? Would you prefer to tie leaves around his waist?” Sissy rocked the baby and pecked his cheeks.

Iya laughed, “I will wear him pampers. If he eats another sweet, I will give him agbo to drink. A person that does not like bitter leaf should not be fond of eating sweets.”

“Iya, I have warned you.” Sissy sighed and handed the baby to his mother.

“So Sissy baby, which of the pants will you buy?” Iya spread many pants on the table, “your man will love this red colour very well. It matches your nail polish.”

“I have not worn the pants I bought the last time jare. I have been too busy to go to my boyfriend’s house for a weekend. I will only take two black bras. I need them for the white polo shirts I will wear for a two-day awareness walk. It is a campaign for people to stop self-medication. I will like you to attend. It is for people like you that like to administer drugs themselves, worse of all, traditional medicines.”

“Who will look after my business while I roam the streets with placards and banners? Please, I am too hungry to get involved in your campaign, I cannot afford the walk, and I do not have the strength. I am looking for money. Sissy, maybe I will attend some other time.”

“Iya, life is not all about making money. Iya, you should also learn how to use it. You can save up the Fifty Naira for agbo to buy worm medicine in the next three months. Please, you should pay attention to important programmes, especially those with health benefits. If you lock the shop for a day, there will not be loss in your business or profit margin. The kinds of goods you sell allow most of your customers to wait for you or come back again if you are not around. They can call you on phone when they are in urgent need of an item.”

“Okay, I have heard you. I will join the campaign. Is it not just to walk about to share flyers and raise posters above my head?”

“It is not just that, you will take home lessons that are applicable to your health and practice it.”

“Okay, thank you Sissy, I will see you tomorrow.”

* * * * * * 

The next day, Iya was shelving her goods when Sissy came by. “Aha, Iya, you are displaying your goods. I told you the programme is by eleven o’clock, and this is past ten o’clock.”

Iya adjusted her headgear. It loosened. She removed it and tied the scarf around her petite waist, “eh Sissy, the thing is. I cannot make it today. You see, today was market sanitation and it took an extra thirty minutes before the meeting ended. We opened the market just five minutes ago, so I want to make up for lost sales, I hope you understand.”

“Iya…you should just lock the shop until we are back. I will help you arrange your wares and sell for the day.”

“Sissy, please not today, I cannot make it. Please do not be annoyed. You know I am the only one fending for the family. My husband is yet to get another job. I am trying to raise capital for him to start a small business.”

“Yes Iya, I understand. I wish I could help,” Sissy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Sissy, your patronage is an assurance that we make profit and be able to keep body and soul together. Please tell more of your friends to patronize underclothes from me. I will sell at good prices,” she started fixing the finest, sexy pants into hangers.

“Sure I will, Iya. I will be on my way. I will share useful information when I return. How is your son? You did not bring my fine boy to the shop?” Sissy peered into the shop.

“He stayed home with his father today. Let him babysit for today.”

“That is good. Iya, I will see you later. Send my love to my fine boy,” Sissy left and Iya fully opened her shop.

After she made some sales, Iya added up the money to previous sales and counted. She looked sad at the total sum spread in her palms. She rummaged through her wooden coffer and came up disappointed. Invoices, kola nut, old pen and some torn naira notes were all that filled the box.

“God, I am far from gathering substantial amount for my husband to start his phone repair business. God, please boost sales so I can raise enough money.” Iya got up and propped up her goods to attract customers. She sang as she mopped her veranda.

* * * * * * 

Iya closed the shop very late. She reached home and flung her bag on the nearest chair. Her son was in a feverish condition, “Kenny, why did you not call me?” She bundled her son into her arms.

“I did not want to disturb you. He has had warm temperature since 4 pm, it worsened this night, like an hour ago,” Kenny brought agbo to feed the boy.

Iya pushed the cup of agbo away. “No, he is not getting better. Do not give him the herb. Let us take him to the hospital,” she said.

Kenny was frantic. He hurried into the bedroom and changed from his boxers to a trouser. They left for the hospital in anxiety.

The hospital admitted the child. “Madam, what have you been treating your child with? He is in a severe condition,” the doctor said.

“Doctor, he has been well, he was not sick,” Iya said in a weepy tone.

“He has been sick for a long time, the symptoms were not clear to you. He is very sick,” the doctor scribbled on the baby’s medical report card.

“Oh, my God, what sickness is that?” Kenny asked. He looked pale all of a sudden.

“What did you give him before coming here, what drugs have you given him?” The doctor asked.

“Agbo sir, it is usual to give him herbal medicine to cure his sugar belly because some nice patrons at my shop do give him sweet things to eat and drink.” The doctor shook his head. Iya held the doctor’s arms and went on her knees, “Doctor, please save my son. I cannot bear any other child. Please, his birth was complicated. My Doctor removed my womb to stop the infection from spreading. My son is my life.”

“Madam, we are doing our best. We will run a test on him. Nurse, please get his blood sample.”

“Please save our son,” Kenny said.

“We will do our best. Nurse, get the blood test done with immediacy.” The doctor patted Kenny’s shoulder and left the room.

Some minutes later, the doctor said to the nurse, “nothing can be done for the child. He has few hours to live. The herbal components have cut his liver and opened holes in his kidney, whatever that was mixed in the substance was acidic. It was too toxic for a boy who has not clocked a year old.”

The nurse looked at Iya and her husband, “oh, it is a pity. I wish a miracle could happen. This horrible news will shatter the couple,” she said.

“Doctor,” Iya screamed. The doctor and nurse ran into the room. He put the thermometer on the boy’s chest. He sighed. He gestured for the nurse to cover the corpse.

Iya stopped the nurse. She turned to the doctor, “Doctor, what is she doing?”

“I am sorry madam, we lost him,” the doctor said.

Iya screamed and whipped her body on the floor. She grabbed the doctor’s robe. “Do not take away my child from me. Look, I have money,” she threw the sales money at the doctor, “take all the money and treat my child. Doctor, please bring my child back to life.” She turned to the nurse, “I am sure you are a mother; you know I will not be able to live without my child. I cannot live through this pain.”

Kenny dragged her into the hallway. She was kicking and crying, “Someone should bring back my child.”

Kenny shook her roughly, “stop this Iya. Our precious son is no more. He is dead.” Iya went quiet. Kenny laughed insanely. He dropped to the floor and cried.

Five

Mudlark 

My brother and I sat in front of a local pharmacy. My feet hurt from walking about. My mother came out of the drugstore. “Mama, I am tired. I feel so weak. Can we not stay home today?” I said to my mother.

Mama swallowed some pills and drank water. She sat on a crate and massaged her hands and legs, “we must work hard, or else there will not be food for us to eat. Come on, we have to hurry to make some money. The pain will disappear once you walk around,” Mama said as she tagged us along to the big market.

As much as I could remember, it had always been hard work all day if we must survive. Things only got worse after our eviction from Ileoda. The turbulent sea had threatened to submerge our community. The government marked down the waterfront and issued an eviction letter to residents of Ileoda.

The Minister of Housing and Environment had said it was for the good of its dwellers. The government said the reason was to build better houses for us. We tried to fight against it because these decent structures would not have a place for low lives like us. The restructuring roadmap of Ileoda did not include avenues for the poor. The government only wanted to get us out of the waterfront with no plans for settlement and they succeeded.

We were miserable and powerless to fight the government. Later, we were happy to get a court injunction, but the battle won, was short lived. The demolishers ignored the court injunction. They brought bulldozers to our homes and destroyed everything.

The demolition of houses and properties caused displacement of over fifty thousand residents of Ileoda. Many had nowhere to go. Some people expressed their displeasure by committing suicide. My family and I slept under different bridges for weeks until we were able to rent a room.

We reached the big market. My brother and I carried goods on our heads while Mama stacked customers’ items on a plank sitting on her head and walked toward the motor park. As Mama was crossing the road, a speedy ambulance vehicle hit her. She died on the spot. We became orphans.

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