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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, 7 June 2017

The Murder Of Ignorance Goes Unnoticed


   The hive thrives because it believes in hope, the Queen is fertile because she feeds her hosts. The land is bleeding because it is lost in hope, yet a few stray away. Never afraid of the stories of large bees invading vulnerable youngsters. Soon I too will be Queen and rule my kingdom.
 For now let's leave my fantasy world alone and just come back down to planet Earth. I have heard many stories about people trying to cross into Europe. In fact, any time I hear people brag about been abroad, I wonder. But that's just naive me wondering, I don't know anyone dumb enough to risk their lives like that. I only know smart, enlightened people thank God for that.
I am lucky that I am not one of them, floating on a raft to nowhere or stranded in a truck in a desert. My enlightened uncle is here telling us stories about his unfortunate friends. Mugus that could not do their due diligence. As I sit and wrap moi moi leaves over bean cakes. This time, it has fish and crayfish courtesy my rich uncle. I imagine and really try to imagine why he was been so nice to my mum. His tales drowned those thoughts as I laughed at the girl that refused to marry him. He told us that she tried to swim to the shores of Spain from Morroco. By some miracle, she made it across. She only lived there for two days and then she was deported back home.
   If only I had waited to taste for one last time my mother's sweet moi moi. Or stood my ground when I suspected foul play.
My uncle cut his hilarious stories short, he had a travel permit for me and an opportunity of a lifetime. He too was going with me, so I would be safe.
My gut feeling said no and I cried and begged my parents to let me stay. But the cash was ready and the debts too many. The loan sharks had heard that my rich uncle was around, so came to collect.
  My uncle looked at me and gave me the money. The choice was mine, watch them beat my father up again or pay up. The men where large and their muscles thick, there were rumors of them feasting on debtors and many of the debtors getting missing didn't help matters. I give my mother the money, she is old enough to decide and she gives my father who in turn pays up.
The thugs leave quietly and my mother hugs my father but the old bruises still hurt. I did not even have time to bask in the Beautiful brief show of affection my parents granted me.
      We leave now.
  Deceived by money starved merchants, lazy twats that feast on naive men and women. The gathering of the starving innocents, fueled with lies by buoyant human traffickers. Selling lies about jobs available in other African war torn countries. Telling lies about Europe been just a mile of the shores of Morroco and Gambia. The uneducated fools don't even know where Gambia is on the map, the educated illiterate tells himself he has an advantage and would find his way when he gets there. The trucks leave the north east with women and children promised work. The trailers leave the east with young men searching for glory and in the south large containers filled with frustrated youths head for a greener pasture.
  The money has exchanged hands and the human traffickers look even richer, some have borrowed money to pay and others sold their souls for a chance to escape.
My uncle found it all funny and made me swear not to tell my parents we were traveling illegally. Don't worry, when we make cool Euros all these will be a distant dream.
 The desert is not kind and most die of thirst on the perilous journey. Others are well equipped and prepared, but the driver in the middle of no where has stopped. Guns spew out bullets and knives slice the necks of those that survive. It is like a bad dream as I stare at the jerking body of my father's brother. The young girls with me are wailing and are dragged and we sold to sex traffickers. Not the type that want sexual pleasures. The worse kind, the ones that treat donkey's better than humans. The type that slice and kill their victims for sport. I watch as my older neighbour is raped bound and ripped apart by metal chains. These are not human beings, these are demons masquerading as men. It is indeed a cruel world to be female, I think as the tears from my eyes dry up. I am shoved into a room with little boys crying and mutilated. The demons did not discriminate, as long as the people where illegal immigrants they were fair game. From the tiny window in the silo we were hidden, I dared to peep as the other children begged me not to. They point at a smelling decaying child in a corner, a boy missing his eye sockets. I burst out crying and cover my mouth. He was almost dead, yet they still toyed with him.
 Is there no way to let our families know that we are been manhandled. That we are dying here? Maybe they sell us so we are no longer a financial burden to them. One girl whispered, I don't think that is it. They borrow money to get us a better life and instead sell us to the grim reaper. Merchants of death. I would rather die than let those pigs touch me again, so I peep and see a woman. She is veiled up and pretty and serves the men food and tea. They look happy and normal, until they kick her and pour the hot tea on her face. Crying she picks up the kettle and leaves and a girl serves them and they smile.
Too old, a girl tells me, once you get too old, you die. I think of home and the wild vegetables we eat, the frogs that we roast during the raining season and the garri we eat when we harvest cassava. These are the good days but on bad days we drink water until our bellies are full and sleep off the hunger pangs. Those days are better than these, here I have no human rights and I am dehydrated. The eyeless boy has stopped moving now, he is dead. Swelling and swelling and soon he would burst. None of us cry, we expect to die and count him lucky. This hive I am in, has no Queen, no rule of law, no family unit. We are injured baby zebras, stuck in a hole with rabid hyenas. No one will find us and no one would care, this greener pasture grows green with our carcuses. When will this nightmare end?
    Dare to dream of escaping a nightmare and soon you will.
Nnoye was visibly shaken and I was not sure what to do. There has been tension between us because I feel like she is a heavy burden I need to get rid of. Always reminding  me that her fiance likes me and all sort of rubbish. I have her my piece of mind and expect it to break the camel's back. Instead she smiles at me and declared its why I am her best friend.
  Right now, she received a phone call from some crazy people claiming to have kidnapped her sister. Nnoye called her mum who confirmed she was in church camp with her.
The entire story was getting very ridiculous, until her mother called back.
Nnoye's sister had sneaked out of camp for a party. Instead, the bus was actually a kidnapping ring.
Nnoye was shaking and wanted to call back, but I stopped her.
'Let's them call you back'
We got the police involved and Daniel Ojora.
'It's because I appear rich oooo, these people don't know say na borrow borrow make me rich'
'Don't talk like that'
'The ring, na borrow. The car, na borrow the name self...'
 I chose to ignore her as a strange number called her phone.
  Nnoye refused to pick it but I insisted that she did. It could be the kidnappers demanding Ransome for her life.
The voice at the end made her shriek.
'What?', I asked a little scared.
'It's my sister oooo, she don escape'
  There was an awkward silence and then Nnoye started.
'You this useless good for nothing fool, mama take you go church to remove demons wey dey chase you, eh'
 I grabbed her hands and scold her.
'Dont make her afraid to come home oooo, oyaya... Ask her where she is?'
'They said I should ask you where you are, nonsense'
 I smack Nnoye and she cuts an evil eye at me.
'It's true now'
 I snatched the phone from my unserious friend.
'Where exactly are you?'
'Two of us escaped but the six others where not so lucky, I'm almost in Berger.... Lagos'
'Don't branch, just come straight to Victoria Island'
'For where, I am coming to Berger with a bus. Just wait there'
 Nnoye adds and cuts the phone and then sends credit to the phone.
'Why did you do that?'
'We don't know if the people that rescued her, want to find out where we live. I'm going there now'
'Dont go alone oooo'
'Daniel has called the police, I will go with them'
   As I watched Nnoye leave, I wave and heave a sigh of relief. Thank God that her sister is safe, but what about the others?

  Back inside the house, Celine was wide awake and yawning.
'What happened?'
'Kidnappers snatched the bus Nnoye's sister was in and she escaped'
'She said, during the commotion. Into the bush and bumped into loggers'
'Are you for real?'
'They had felled and loaded all the trees they needed and we're on their way into Lagos'
'So, how..', Celine was trying to grasp the entire situation.
'First they called with her phone demanding ransom money and then she called that she escaped'
'This is terrible, when did Nigeria get these horrid crop of criminals?'
'I tire oooo. But the police is involved and Nnoye is on her way to meet her'
'How not alone'
'Nnoye has has called everyone and has at least a bus from Idibia and another from Daniel. I think both men will out do each other'
'As long as we both get jobs from it, I'm fine with it'
'Poor children'
   I sighed and stretched.
'So what's the plan?'
  Celine was acting all clueless.
'About you and Pierre and this baby?'
'Im definitely having it, but I am not happy with this situation'
'But you both love yourselves and his children adore you'
'And when my child asks why we never got married?'
'Tell her the evil Queen wove her magic wand and bound the contract that could free your one true love'
 Celine was laughing so loud that I fell forward laughing too.
'Ade, what was that?'
'My rendition of your situation into a Disney classic'
'It will sell'
'Break box office you mean'
'See, every situation is beautiful or horrible depending on who's looking'
'Tell me something'
'You and Pierre are starting and for the ex-wife that never signed the divorce papers... It's the end'
'Just focus on the good, the great and the Beautiful'
'Meanwhile, did you hear about the truck found in the desert?'
'Up north, crossing the border illegally'
'Are you talking about illegal immigrants?'
  At this point, Jibike, Ajoke's sister stepped out of the room dragging large suitcases. I did not want to help her and Celine too.
'My dear, we are pregnant. You are young, drag it yourself', Celine was serious.
 Even Jibike found it funny as she laughed and tripped and fell to the cushioned ground on purpose.
'You two wont kill me oooo', she adds and continued to drag the suitcase.
'Didn't you come here with one tiny hand laugage?'
'Auntie Ade gave me clothes and shoes and bags, thank her for me'
'I thought you said you would stay here for a year', Celine was curious.
'My sister said that Aunt Ade was babying me, I need to be tougher'
'So you are working with Ajoke now?'
'Worse', I add.
'No, I'm working with Bala's mother. My mother in-law and the family perfectionist'
'Meticulous bosses help you organize your life better'
'Exactly what Auntie Are said'
'That's why we are friends', Celine says hugging me.
 Ajoke knocks and steps into my house and stares at the suitcases.
'Ade, what is this?'
'Big sister calm down. They are work clothes, mostly'
'Move them into the car, I just had a baby'
'Eh sister, how many months ago?'
 Celine and I laughed as Ajoke crashed into the couch.
'What's up, where is your handbag?'
'Ajoke don't be mean', I scold my naughty friend.
'Nnoye went to rescue her sister', Celine adds.
'She rescued herself, she just needs to file a police report and all'
'Did she beat a pastor up or something?'
'Ha, Ajoke', I could not believe how her mind leaped to that idea.
'Last I heard, she was in church, on a camp. So what happened?'
'She sneaked out and got kidnapped and then escaped'
'Blood of Jesus', Ajoke said digging her long well manicured nails into my skin.
 I winced and massaged the hand, inspecting it for scratch marks and relieved to find none.
'And you didn't follow her? Your best friend'
 Now Ajoke was patronizing me and Celine laughed so much she cried.
'You two are just jealous'
'Do you blame me, the close marking she gives you. Leaves no room for us to compete'
'Agbaya ni e', I scold my very naughty friend.
'So, when are we going to Paris?'
 The question was an odd one from Ajoke.
'It you want to stay here and do single mother?'
'Celine will do no such thing'
'Let's us ask her'

   We both look at her and she smiles and pulls us closer to her.
'Of course not, I'm leaving end of the month'
 Her words bring joy and cheers from all our lips and we hug and rock her. Even Jibike abandoned heavy suitcase to join in.
'I wish I had great friends like you all', Jibike adds with serious envy.
If only she knew the stress, trauma and pain that pushed me to appreciate people more and open up more.

 I spot Henrik with the corner of my eye frowning. Something is not right, the look he has tells me that I have entered yawa.
 What did I do now?

**Season 2, Episode 33**

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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