I
Beneatthe the shadow of my windowpane and the
comfort of my lonely time, i stumbled into this
remembrance:
A little Chibok maiden stargered into a northern
market. Her chins were brutally marked in shape
of a tigress claws. Not her chin alone but through her foremost head down to the pouch of her headcover. Her hijab flowed through her knee and her
chest was full; like something was hidden beneath
her dress. It happened. The hijab at least gave her repulsive appearance an iota of beauty. She was
filty, damaged and needed help...
And she wailed for help at the shore of the busy market. Men,women,maidens and children; non was absent at the horror scene. ...Bring Back Our Girls!- one was here ,yet no one moved a limb
towards the 'filthy' victim.
The fearful ones fled leaving behind their sales while grasping a chance of retaining their
lives.Whilst the most courageous of them just stood aback to watched her fall into more stains
and muds. She continued. She fought for her stance and
stretched her hands forth for help...
Once she stood still,perhaps to let her blood drip freely down her mouth,through her sleeves into
the dust. Hence, it was time!!
If no one would come close-"please run... Call my
mother..she would die care for me! !" But she had let her voice out to save the watching strangers."Run!!!"
Yet, her childish eyes craved a final glance at her
mother. Her heart cracked as she watched it mothers shoulder their tiny children to safety... "If
only more mine was there at chibok,perhaps, this
day won't be"- again, a childish thought. she
waited in grieve for her faraway mother.
In her last few seconds of grievance, na farko(the
maiden) had her eyes closed and her fists thitened. This time she screamed till her heart could hardly breathe; as hot tears of wishes ran down her pitied jaw...
Uwar!!!ka yar da aka dawo!!!-
Meaning; Mother!! Your daughter was back!!!...
Her voice echoed through the empty market before the '0' was counted- the bomb detonated.
And the people witnessed one of their own shattered like a broken doll...
I blame Bokoharam for this paining imagination.
olalere Ibrahim
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