I DREAMT OF WAR

KATRINA

She woke up that morning the same way she always did on Saturday, with excitement and glee. There was something about Saturday that made Lagosians take it easier than the usual intensity the city was used to. As a kid it was the only day of the week that her father played ball with the kids without worrying about business. Her mum still made fluffy, scrambled eggs with fried plantain and freshly squeezed oranges. The street was filled with people not rushing to work but sitting around. Some were in groups chatting, kids playing touch football or table-tennis. In the afternoon they would go out as a family to see a movie or visit some relatives. Sometimes her dad would take her to the sport complex where they would team up playing squash. In the evenings it was always peaceful; no talk of business or whatever crisis was going on in their lives. The grass would be warm beneath her feet, a glass of avocado/cucumber smoothie beside her as she listened to her brothers’ recount their silly activities from the week before. Yes, Saturdays were the absolute best, till darkness came over the sun and it didn’t matter anymore what day of the week it was because the demons in her sleep always came to life.

She could feel his touch everywhere; it always amazed her that He knew how to excite her body. A feather light touch to the back of her knees had goose bump rising on her skin. A gentle press of palm up and down her stomach brought a slight gasp from her mouth. She bit her lower lips with her teeth in anticipation as he took off her soaking wet panties and grabbed one of her breasts in his palms; sucking one with his tongue as he simultaneously entered her. The pleasure was always intense. She canted her hips in sync with his thrust, trying to hold his face with her hands but it seemed too far away. She could feel her orgasm building; chasing it with fervor not wanting it to evade her. She woke with a shriek, sweat breaking out all over her body even as she noticed the air-conditioning was on full blast. Her mum and brothers came rushing in when they heard the screams. The routine was the same; they would kneel at the side of her bed, praying and casting off the demons that always possessed her sleep. After prayers, they each took turns giving her a hug before returning to bed. She stayed up for an extra 30 minutes trying to fall asleep. Dipping her fingers into her panties, she felt the pool of wetness there; a few strokes and she could finish off the job but masturbation was a sin so she quickly withdrew her fingers and clasped them together on her tummy, trying to empty her mind as she awaited the agony of sleep.

Ichie was already in the living room when she gave up trying to sleep at 5am. She noticed that he was staring blanking at the TV; his eyes distant and worried.

Aaah! You couldn’t sleep too huh? This dream lover won’t leave you alone abi, he joked. He was the only one who knew about the man in her dreams. The faceless demon she always had “almost sex” with as they now called it.

What about you? The violent war dreams again? He had been having dreams about the breakout of war for some time now, but they seemed to be getting worse and more violent.

Yeah, he replied.

I have them too you know. I mean, who wouldn’t in this situation. We are barely hanging on to our sovereignty, plus we got crisis on all corners and the economy is in tatters.

She walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of green smoothie from the refrigerator with Ichie close behind her. Picking out his favorite soda, she tossed it to him across the island which he caught easily.

You’re miserable Kat, how can you drink that thing that looks like a dog’s vomit. He remarked as he sipped his coke.

Healthy, not miserable; life is too short to be looking like Mama Afis when I am 40 years old. I am prepping my body to look like Resse Witherspoon’s. She piped back at him with a playful smirk on her face.

I need my nights back Kat. Ichie said; the mood getting serious again as he settled wearily on one of the high chairs behind the kitchen island.

She noticed the bags under his eyes, the hunted look and sadness that looked akin to depression coming off in waves from him. Was she so busy dealing with her own problems that she hadn’t noticed how much her little brother was suffering? She questioned in her mind. They fondly called him Ichie because from birth, he had a serious and pensive look like an elder unlike the youthful gaze of a child. He was her pride and joy; the only human she loved completely more than herself. It ached to see him so distraught. She knew he wouldn’t talk to Somto or Odili about the nightmares because they would see it as weakness and tell him to man up…they are just dreams.

They took their drinks outside to sit on the veranda and watch the last wisp of darkness give way to the brightness of day. She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly in hers. We are going to be okay; together we are fine. She said with a comforting smile. Turning to watch the sunrise, they enjoyed the last few minutes of silence before the house came alive with sounds and bodies.

ICHIE

A piercing scream could be heard for miles across Coker Street. It was 3am in the morning and as he looked out the window, the chaos on the road told him all he needed to know. It was happening. He emerged quickly from his room to find his siblings and parents huddled together in the corridor.

Quick! Carry only the bare essentials, like your credentials and anything that can fit in one luggage. We must leave now if we are to make it to the barracks before the gates are shut. His dad was whispering while giving instructions. Why were they crouching? Why was his dad whispering? Why did his mum have to turn off the lights? For Pete’s sake how was he supposed to do an emergency pack and shut if he couldn’t even see!

They didn’t need to ask what was going on as they all rushed to load their luggage in the white hummer bus that his dad had acquired the Christmas prior to make travelling to the village easier. He looked at Kat and saw only agonizing fear in her eyes as he held her hands briefly and assured her without words that they would be okay. It was one of the things he loved about his only sister; their bond was so strong that sometimes they didn’t need words to have whole conversations or express themselves. He had packed light. A few shirts, two trousers, his combat boots and hat, tooth brush and of course his certificates and credentials. He was certain his mother had brought everything else they would need.

Gunshots could be heard in the distance, people were running in the middle of the road and cars overloaded with humans and boxes were trying to navigate the chaos; all of them trying to get to the barracks. They piled into the hummer bus just as a bullet pierced the right mirror which caused Liz, his mother to shriek in horror. They looked behind to see a horde of men dressed in street clothes carrying machetes and all calibers of guns shooting people down in the streets. One particular bunch seemed determined to take them out as the next bullet hit the rear window.

“Everyone get down!” Alvin, Ichie’s father screamed and they quickly ducked. He watched as one of the miscreants took a machete to Iya Bisis’s stomach and cut her open. Kat gasped in despair; her eyes wide open in disbelief at what they were witnessing.

Alvin was driving at 120km/h on a pedestrian road. The horn was blaring loudly alerting those running on foot that a faster death awaited them if they didn’t get out of the way. The twenty minutes it took to get to the barracks were the longest of his life. Bodies littered the street like garbage; at one point they had to get off the highway to avoid traps set by rioters for unsuspecting people. They came across a woman and her three children lying on the side of the street along one of the back roads they had taken as diversion. Her wrapper was undone at her waist and it was clear that she had been violently raped before she was killed. Bile rose in his throat as he shouted at his father to stop the vehicle. As he came towards the dead woman, he noticed that her eyes were wide open, arms flayed on the ground. A dead baby with his head severed from the body lay next to the woman and the other two kids haphazardly in the corner; their fresh blood seeping gently into the gutter. He covered her eyes and carried the children closer to their mother, using the wrapper to cover their faces.

At the barracks there was despondency everywhere. Wounded people were clamouring around the understaffed clinic waiting for treatment and drugs that would surely run out before morning. Just as he was settling down to take a breather, an earth shattering sound that caused the ground beneath his feet to rumble was heard. There was pregnant quiet around the barracks as families held each other close. He looked around for his’ and noticed them in the distance frozen in front of the officer’s mess. Another blast like the first rocketed across the barracks and everyone suddenly sprang into action. The rioters were here and it was clear they came for blood. A little girl who couldn’t have been more than 5 years old was standing next to him clutching a Garfield bear tightly to her chest. There was fat tear stains on her cheeks as she kept looking around probably trying to find her parents. The screams of women merged with the thump of a thousand feet; some carrying luggage while their husbands followed closely behind with small children tucked under each armpit. The gunshots from the first gate were getting closer as the soldiers tried to hold the rioters back. He picked up the little girls and ran towards his family but soon realized he had lost sight of them. All the exits were clogged with people trampling on each other trying to escape from the barracks they had hoped would be a fortress.

A body dropped in front of him and dozens more followed in quick succession. Still he kept running towards the same direction as everyone else. A bullet pierced his heart and he fell suddenly, signaling to the little girl to be quiet while he quickly smeared her face with blood from his chest and laid her gently beneath him as life left his body…

He woke abruptly; tears running down his face as he realized he had been crying. The fear was real because his chest still hurt from dying and none of it had felt like a dream. Kneeling down, he sent a quiet prayer up to God seeking that inner peace that forever seemed to evade him.