Blood And Water

Blood and Water is a story that points to a civil war in West Africa, Nigeria and the hovering hunger for survival by two teenage boys. Hope you enjoy. Completed version with no coins for now. Make sure you drop your reviews...***Rumours of a War A proverb says that when it rains everyday, there is a bound of sorrow within the rain. Maybe we were not that rich but we were happy or we claimed to be.   The only problem was that I was no longer in school. I think I liked it that way, school stress was so hard especially now that I was in the junior secondary.“Eze there is no water in the house, “that was my mother’s voice, she was a school teacher but since the “defendants” started protesting last month, all schools have been closed. The defendants wanted more social amenities for our town and more finance to aid our development but the government did not heed to them. There is a rumor that they want t

It has been a fortnight since the soldiers took papa. We’ve not heard from him, we’ve no idea if papa is alright. My mother had been torn with anguish, she rarely ate nor did anything at home except sleep and cry.This was the time for me to be the man of the house, to handle the responsibility that papa had bestowed on me, it was not easy as anticipated, I didn’t even know where to start.I got some firewood and started to cook inside the kitchen. “Ikem” I called while he replied from inside of the house and made himself visible.“There’s no water in the house, please go and fetch some water” Ikem did not complain he took the gallon and went off to fetch water, I was surprised that he had obeyed without complain, I kind of expected some resistance. I finished preparing food and served Ikem some then took some to Mama.“Am not feeling hungry” mama sighed.“You’ve barely eaten a

The stars seemed to have lost their luminating colours. A foul stench of the apocalypse violates the biosphere. Two months since the ordeal where we had last seen papa. the community is unreasonably quiet, the soldiers have returned in their multitude to restore order in our community. They came back prepared. They had modernized weapons such as an armored truck and sophisticated guns which sounded like a granite. Hunger had torn down homes. Sicknesses were prevailing in the jurisdiction, we were cut off from the outside world, the media could not project our situation.They projected us as enemies in their daily news cast, projected us as anarchist and terrorist who can only be quenched by violence. Everyone had failed us; the media, the government, the outside sources which my father had believed could protect us. We were not only subdued but forced to watch hunger and death tear through our vanjing  homes.We were eaten up by kwashiork

I followed the van till it got to its destination. I thanked my stars since I had been quite sapped out to continue, my legs were very weak, aching but I just covered the pain in my face. I was just in time to see Papa being escorted out with the rest of the prisoners, he was almost unrecognizable. A man who had once been great was now similar to a psycho living under the bridge. I followed immediately trying to breach the distance. Papa was looking scraggy, his beards overgrown, his hairs tattered, his eyes diluted, he was bleeding, probably over beaten and tortured by the soldiers. His face was no more the smile I had been familiar with, his eyes were red, he had grown very lean – the part which seemed to change the most was the despair written all over his spirits.He was a broken man, one who had lost everything, a role model who could not even inspire himself to heights he had projected. He turned to me, gave me a faint smile, nodded his h

 We persevered relentlessly into the jungle. We fell, stood up, dusted ourselves and continued our scavenging for survival.We could see the fading ashes of our community burning, the spiritual life forms rooted as gases transcending into the atmosphere. Silent tears dripped from my eyes as I watched all I had ever go away, distant relatives, friends, my community turned into ashes and dust. Mama fell to the ground, her weight pulling us down with her. Our strengths were sapped out, I pulled myself once more trying to defeat the weakness in my muscles.“You can do this” I tried to convince myself.“Leave me continue running” mama breathed out words which I could never obey. I kept quiet as I pondered on the antidote to this phenomenon I took a small branch of a tree, utilizing it as a walking stick to aid mama support herself on my shoulder.“We will make it together” I tried to assure her whil