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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Wednesday 17 May 2017

When Bullets Develop Wings


   The soldier lifts the weight ten times its size with ease, as it matches along the road line with footsteps of its colleagues. No longer does this routine life fit it, it wants more. Breaking the Creed of soldier ants of Honor, soldier ants breaking boundaries. This lone ant wants to jump it's hierarchy without working, wants the Queen without honour. So it does the unspeakable, steals from the armoury to jump start it's fast track to the top. But when the scorpion stings, an entire colony is poisoned. An the experienced squadron leaders feel the brunt of defeat that has been absent for all eternity. Sensing something is seriously wrong, they start a verification exercise and open the boxes of bullets only to find harmless pebbles. The soldier ants surround the traitor that armed the scorpion and disarmed his colony. The lone ant knows the gig is up and is not ready to face the strong arm of the law. Corking his riffle, he aims at his own air head. The experienced team disarm him and extract the truth from the unpatriotic traitor. The scorpion had promised to kill the other soldiers and leave him to lead the colony. But failed to mention that he would devour the children, feast on the next generation. And leave the colony dying and with no young ones to grow up and survive. The lone traitor is shocked and in disbelief, but the blood of the innocent on the lips of the scorpion stops him in his tracks. He was naive to believe the words escaping from the lips of the beast. His fate was sealed, he would no longer have a hierarchy in the society and was doomed to the crack. Burying the dead and building new cribs for every child lost until he draws his last breath. The Queen ordered her loyal assassin's to decapitate him if ever her eyes spots his frame. Death was kinder than this hell hole, he realized that he was before now living a good life. Greed and envy ruined his chances and he would spend the rest of his life, atoning for his sins.
 Unsure of what to do or why I could not go to sleep. The story of the corrupt police man lingers on my mind.
 Did I mention that I slept over in my parents house? It all started with my father turning 70. A big deal and a big struggle because we wanted to throw a big party and he wanted it low keyed. He won of course and we surrendered.
   Old soldier never die, ti ti la yi la yi.
It was fun and happening and I baked, which was fun. Everyone preferred my cake and I made cakes just for that day.
My mum refused to let us go home and mentioned that Henrik had some vodka.
At least three big glasses with my brother's. She won and I moved to my former room, Henrik enjoyed going through my old albums with me and my crazy dress sense.
The day was fun and the weekend relaxing, we were not keen to go back home just yet. And my brother too, we all decided to make this a family weekend.
 I was relieved that it was Nnoye free and enjoyed all the attention I was getting. All the fuss and care over my unborn children.
We didn't leave on Sunday and in bed, Henrik and I laughed about it. Left to me I would stay a week, but Monday was our check-out day.
 The morning was slow with my dad grumbling about a boil on his left leg. It didn't seem like a boil and he looked very exhausted.
 Henrik had to go and sort out a storage problem. And my youngest brother promised to drop me back at home.
 A loud sound scared me and I froze, it was my brother screaming my name.
 I ran out and found him giving my dad cardiopulmonary resuscitation ( CPR).
I ran to him and called out his name and he didn't respond. I screamed and cried.
'In Jesus name, daddy please respond'
 When he didn't, I watched my brother try to revive him.
The CPR needed to be complete so I moved to his head and tilt it back. I tried mouth to mouth but his chest was blocked. So I tilt it back and liquid rushed out. It almost goes to his nostrils, so I place it sideways and liquid pours out.
He tensed and I tried to open his mouth and nothing. Quickly, I raced into the kitchen and grab a spoon and after chest pumps from my dad. I shock the spoon in his mouth and more liquid flows out. He fights me and tries to get the spoon out and I fight him too.
Stable, I look up at my mother and realize she has been screaming.
'Oluwa oooo, oluwa oooo'
 My dad is stable now, so I race to stop her from running to where? I have no clue.
I place her back on the couch and start talking to her.
'Mummy pray, read a psalm'
 She was confused and shivering.
'What about the Lord's prayer?'
 I asked, thinking about her high blood pressure and afraid she may get into a medical situation.
'Baba WA tin be no Orun, Kaa both fun oruko re....'
 At least she was saying it in Yoruba language.
 I run back to the floor and my dad is tired and resting on his chest.
'Im fine just tired', and he starts to sleep off.
'Daddy no, don't sleep. Recite a Muslim prayer... Bisimilahi... Or la I la...'
 He starts and looses consciousness and we revive him again.
The final time he does not come back but my brother does not stop pumping. I know he has to go to the hospital, so I run out and get help. Four out of the five retreat and leave me alone. But the welder takes over from my brother and continued CPR. While my brother drove. I stayed back with my mum and neighbours and we prayed.
Heavy rains start and Henrik drives into the compound. We hug briefly and help my mum still in shock into the car.

  At the hospital they diagnosed deep vein thrombosis.
Thank God we were all around to curb and revive him.

  I'm still shaky and start to cry as I approached his bed. I turn away and cry quietly outside. And then pick up the courage to stop.

   This traumatic event has me reevaluating Everything. Wouldn't you?

**Season 2, Episode 27**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede