SILENCE AT DAWN

 

They were knocking again. This time, much intense and louder as if to bring down the creaking door. At every interval, they seem to listen for any sound and reactions to the banging.  Only a grave silence greeted them. 

Kabaka is not one given to fear, but this night is different. He squats over the squared man-hole on the roof of his dining room and strained his blood shot eyes towards the jittery door as flicker of light escaped through the apertures and hinges. 

His heels where brazing against a pointed metallic object thereby sending sharp pains to his marrow. Even in the depth of the darkness he could make out three silhouettes walking through the fallen door. His heart jumped into his mouth!

He succinctly observes the movements in the darkness thanks to the intermittent lightening. 

“Kabaka, come out now”!

A baritone bitter voice that portends every ounce of evil called out. He was in excruciating pain.  He’s now sure that the caliber. 22 bullets were safely lodge in his left shoulder.  

“I can see you”, another voice laced with pent up anger echoed. 

Round of shots hit the plasma Screen and crashed to the German floor of the oval sitting room. 

More sporadic shots were fired simultaneously on the walls now coated with the fading black of darkness.  

“Alpha tango alpha, alpha tango alpha,target no longer sighted!”

“Confirm you copy!”

The baritone voice summit. 

“Oga e be like say na disappear he disappear o…” the second voice added.

“I don’t give a shit”, if he likes let him enter into a hole I will drag him out. The best thing for him now is to just die. I swear on my mother’s grave, I will show his face to Mr. President.  The law must take its full course"!

His heel and shoulder were bleeding. His displaced arm slid into the square as the wooden brazing threaten to give way. He quickly regain his balance holding onto a diagonal arch supporting the corrugated roofing sheets. 

The departing silhouettes halt at the exit door following the snapping sounds but it was quickly swallowed by the roaring thunder that shook the land. The torrential rainfall was yet to abate.

**     ***   *** ***    ***   *** ***

Masini Dalong's father had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and an almajiri named Masaru Nadai , who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of his savior at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. Dalong did not know why his uncle killed his father but he swore to revenge. 

“If I’m out of my mind, it’s all right with me,” 

Life has not been faired to the thirteen years old. He was in deep thought that afternoon in the groove of the lofty roots of the baobab tree.  This is the same tree were he had interred his father. 

He promised to bury his uncle beside his father so the duo can settle scores before the Savior gives his verdicts.  He vowed to make it happen. 

 He wondered while his father had to die in the hands his own brother instead of the claws of the Sambisa insurgents. 

Colonel Masini was not suppose to be killed at home. It did not befit his status.  For a man who led a combined military formations and special Artillery brigade, he ought to have died in the battle field.

He crossed his hand on his unkempt head like a Vulture waiting for a starving cheetah to die. His downcast head swayed robotically from left to right and right to left as he dragged his bare foots towards the battered house of his father   

“Dalong", his mother called amidst stifled cry.

“Mama", this is not time to cry. We must not cry otherwise we make our enemies delighted. 

 Dalong tried to console his mother in spite of his flood of tears.

His surviving sister limped from the forest bearing dried tree branches. He laid them down beside the three large stones at the backyard of the house. These stones is the oven of their makeshift open kitchen. His father has said cooking must be done outside since wood becomes the only source of fuel for culinary activities. 

His sister was busy blowing the firewood that was just igniting when they had the familiar sounds. 

“Koo…kooo…koooooo….” the thundering sounds came in succession.

Mama Dalong shivers.  His sister left the fireworks and run towards his surviving family.  She held unto his mother and brother who was trying his best to put on a stoic expression. 

The land reverberates!

“Put out the fire, put out the fire”, his mother repeatedly tasked him.

He knew better than to ask questions.  He dashed towards the smoking oven with an empty pail. He turned towards the blue rain collecting tank and draw water almost tumbling into the mirror surfaced structure.  

He poured out the water and drenched the woods.

Chaos broke out. Canon sounds became louder.

“Dalong, come here", his mother called out to him snapping him back to reality. 

“Don’t look at that side" look up to the firmament “

“Remember the psalm 121?

His mother was no longer crying.  Dalong was neither looking at the direction of the loud sounds or firmament but his mother. He knows they are helpless even now that his father is under the baobab tree. 

His sister was shivering, same sister who was molested and shot in the Plains of Jos. Does it really matters now where he looks, should he believe his mother?

He stormed his father’s room and begins to ransack the rumbles left of the room. After about 30mins of searching he found the metallic long weapon. 

He climbed down the flight of stairs to the basement.  He soon clear out the stumbling bricks and found second big metallic round case. He quickly opened it brought out a neat array of magazines.  He climbed out and almost slipped at the last stair. 

By this time it was now a total bedlam.  

He kept the weapon and the magazines behind the door that was almost ripped off from its frames. 

He whispered to his mother.

His mother was obstinate.  He was even more obstinate.  His sister followed him as he led her to the shallow basement. 

“Do not fear, “we shall conquer this evil.

We shall survive this. No matter what you hear outside, keep mum. “

We shall come back for you.

His sister limped painstakingly into the basement and hid herself underneath the stairs.

 It was at sunset. 

“Let’s go and hide", they are almost here.

No, you go and hide, I will stay here. If I perish, I perish.

Mama Dalong watch the chaos with abandonment. She could see people fleeing their houses as others run towards theirs.  

She could see Mallam Musa and  Hajia calling and looking for their only child.

She shook her head in despair. She stare towards heaven as tears rolled down her shrunken cheeks.

Dalong took the Mag.4 and the magazine and gallantly climbed onto the Arcadia tree almost opposite his father’s backyard.  

The Sambisa insurgents where now approaching their house. One of them pointed an AK.47 riffle on the head of a young chap. Dalong immediately recognizes him as the only surviving child of the kind hearted Mallam.

Hajia and the other women were on their knees begging for their lives and that of the young chap. He couldn’t really ascertain the lines of the pleas. But he is sure they are pleading profusely. Dalong could now see many other residents that seems to have been smoked out of their hideouts joining the others to kneel down in pleading.  Over 50 of them consisting of women, men children. 

This is the third time Dalong is trying to fix the magazine to the Mag.4. His hands were visibly shaking 

. “Suna yesu"…???

An insurgent asked.  A bullet had been passed through the head of the chap. They annihilated the people. 

Dalong could see two insurgents approach his father’s backyard.  He was still fumbling with the weapon when they began to ravage his mother.  

He was mad. 

Two others joined the molesters and took turns on mama Dalong.  

The magazine clicks.

He aimed the machine on the leading molester .His head came off.

The insurgents began to fire sporadically. But bullet passed behind his ear and head in quick succession.

More shots made noise like male anopheles mosquitoes in his ears. But he was more dogged. 

The assault stopped. 

A whistle is heard. They retreated through the same route they came. 

There was silence.

 

LAFIA HQ

 

He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. Dalong was preferred by the Captain of the combat squad. He fearlessly faces any match or mismatch among the pairs in the special squads. His prowess and doggedness was discreetly applauded amongst the ranks of the sergeant majors in the Defense Academy. He was redeploy to special weapons and Tactics. The SWAT team became the talk of the town. 

Brigadier Dongoyaro took special interest in him when he found out that he was from the plains of Plateau.  Brigadier Dongoyaro believes that if there are more men like him from the same region that has suffered from unrest and gross insecurity, it will help to stop or perhaps nip insurgents and insecurity at the bud. 

“He who wears the shoes knows where it pinches him", he confided in Dalong. 

“Sergeant Dalong “

“Sir"!

I’m talking to you as a brother not as a soldier or compatriot. “

We have suffered the most in this crime against humanity.  Our plains in the Jos plateau has become valleys of dry bones. “

We must bring our patriotism to bear on our fathers land.

Our land must never again be killed by the stampede of blood thirsty men.

Copy that?

“Copied"

 

That night sergeant Dalong could not sleep.

He began to ruminate on the words of Brigadier Dongoyaro .He has appreciated the opportunity to be among the SWAT team. He vowed to eschew security compromise.  No matter whose horse is gourds, he will fight to savage his father land, protect the integrity of her territory, and ensure internal and international peace. 

Brigadier Dongoyaro has made him the regimental sergeant major. Being the RSM and aid to the Brigadier gave him access to his avalanche of military resources. During breaks Dalong goes to the main library and personal library of his direct boss. Here he study several books on military formations and intelligence.  He also sneaks into classes on military education and war.

He took special interests in heavy weapons, such as mortars, howitzers, machineguns and recoilless rifles which are usually part of infantry equipment.

 

During his final training on guerrilla tactics, Special weapons in the arsenal which were procured by the federal government were made available to the team, Only RSM Dalong could operate these weapons 100%. The military Chiefs were impressed. 

He was moved to the Supreme Military Council. 

The Defense minister was not pleased with the SWAT team.  He was particularly disappointed at Captain Dalong.  With all his professionalism and his acclaimed antecedents, he was pleasantly disappointed that Kabaka could not be brought to his office, either dead or alive.

The defense minister who has been at Sandhurst War College himself wondered if the standard of the academy has dropped.  He knew Kabaka is a local rebel perhaps with external support, but that shouldn’t be a problem to Captain Dalong. 

“Captain “!

Sir!

What nonsense are you spewing? “Are you the same Officer I was hearing about all the way from Azerbaijan?

This is absurd!

** *** *** ** ** ** 

There has been unrest in the western capital.  The impeachment of the governor by less than the stipulated two third majority of the state house of assembly has spark uproar in the region. There governor has been alleged to have raped his personal assistant right in his office. When the case was first reported at the state house of assembly, majority of the members wave it off with recourse to the supposedly pious character of the Governor.  

But when the personal assistant came in person to testify against the Governor being the victim and with a threat to commit suicide if the governor is not brought to book, the majority believed her. But most of this majority could not sign the impeachment motion with the fear that Mr Agbo is a scorpion you can’t touch its tail. 

The Speaker was impeached for indecision and his deputy was installed.  The fearless deputy soon set up a seven man committee to look into the matter and report back within seven working days. 

At twelve midnight on the seventh day when the report was to be concluded, kabaka was in a meeting with the delegates of the governor’s forum. Mr. Agbo chaired this forum and he is a force that makes things be. 

Grapevines has it that he has powerful influence on the federal government. 

Mr. Agbo is a lion.

At 00:15am, Kabaka brought out the white paper from the seven man panel of inquiry that will decide the fate of Mr. Agbo.  .

A quick glance brought a questioning look on the face of the Governor.

“Mr Governor, this white paper must not see the light of the day", Kabaka retorted. 

“The decision of this panel is clear, in a nutshell, they want Agbo impeached and a fresh election conducted in the state within 30days .”, Governor Sadollah affirmed.

“I smell danger, Governor Taylor commented. 

This is not time to sleep Mr. Governor, all eyes turned to Governor Jonah who was dozing. , 

“I’m not used to nocturnal meetings anymore, age is no longer on my side.”  

If not for who Agbo is, I will not have attended this meeting.

“Thank you everyone,  but please  save my neck, Agbo said holding his hands together as a sign of unity and pleading. 

Taylor stood up ,cleared his throat and said,  “Let’s make sure that the impeachment is not successful,  by so doing the second recommendation will not be implemented “

“Thoughtful one"

“Kabaka should be able to see to that"

Yes.

‘’He is capable’’.

 

**  ** * *

A professional-looking man in a dark suit got out of a sleek Tinted Range Rover parked near the xyz terminal of the presidential wing and held up a fist. "Major General Dongoyaro? I'm Taju from the state house “. He opened the passenger door. "Good evening, sir, he saluted standing at attention. Welcome to the Sunshine State.

Sergeant Agwai lifted the heavy bag into the boot of the second vehicle with three men dressed up in dark suits and dark glasses. None of them stepped a foot on the tarmac. 

Dongoyaro climbed into the plush interior of the SUV. Sergeant Agwai climbed in from the opposite side with a black suit case not so big as the one in the boot of the escort Vehicle. Taju showed him the temperature controls, the bottled water, and the basket of hot sausage. Minutes later, Taju was speeding away on a private access road. Dongoyaro took a knowing look on his ADC.

As the driver gunned the car up Adesida Road, he consulted his passenger manifest and placed a quick call. "This is Sunshine alpha Pilot, driver said with professional efficiency.”I was asked to confirm once major general had landed." He paused. "Yes, sir. Your guest, has arrived, and I will deliver him to the State House by 1800hrs. You're welcome, sir." He hung up.

Agwai had to smile. No stone left unturned. Taju’s attention to detail was one of his most potent assets, allowing him to manage his substantial power with apparent ease. 

Dongoyaro settled into the plush leather seat and closed his eyes as the noise of the airport faded behind him. The Sunshine House was a half hour away, and he appreciated the time alone to gather his thoughts. Everything had happened so quickly today that he only now had begun to think in earnest about the incredible evening that lay ahead.

Arriving under a veil of secrecy, Dongoyaro thought, amused by the prospect.

Ten miles from the State House a lone figure was eagerly preparing for Dongoyaro’s arrival.

Major General Dongoyaro has been deployed to Akure following the declaration of state of emergency. He is to bring the state under control and restore normalcy that will foster an election as recommended via the white paper.

There is a new sheriff in town!

 

 

…. Continue Reading

 

NB: This is a fictional book excerpts (in progress): Being a work of fiction, all characters, places, events are imaginations of the author. Any resemblance with actual place(s), event(s) or person(s) (living or dead) is pure coincidence.

 

 

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