Nni knew some that had gone to the train station before her; they never came back.
The iron wheels of the train crushed against the rail tracks; it left reverberating noise inside the crates, this was the only sound; it gave them good company.
Memories.
Each one looked Nni’s age: too young to travel too far; no one spoke a word to each other. Fear locked in their sockets, deep down their souls. Nni peeped again through the hole. The plain fields were still there, although the sun gradually faded away, the plain dry fields were gradually engulfed and overtaken by traces of smoky dusk. It was almost the farming season, but the drought kept their hands dusty.
Rape & Incest
Nni sat back, placed her head on the hard rusty wall; she imagined what her little ones did at that moment: chased the animals into their pens, made bread or just played around. She wondered if they ever asked their parents about her. She remembered how her father came home one night, dragging another dead cow along. She had just finished making meal, and was about to put away the food. Her father had rushed at her from behind, dragged her to his hut; he tore her clothes off, and began to study the lining of her body. When he was satisfied, he smiled and said:
“Tomorrow, we go to the train station.”
That night, as she packed her rags; she heard her mother when she wept helplessly, but silently. Nni knew some that had gone to the train station before her; they never came back.
The Journey Begins.
Nni never got to say goodbye to her mother or her little ones. It was an early ride, on the back of Mula, the only female donkey in their compound. Mula was a stray donkey their father brought home, when he was on his way back from prayers –he never failed to pray. Mula had grown together with all the children in the compound; she was there when they left, one after the other, but never returned.
Mula also witnessed a show of their father’s short temper on any of his wives. Her father covered her, because he never liked the men in the village; they could not afford to pay their debt or afford to hire his cow for their farms. When they got to the train station, he hauled her onto the cargo space when the gatemen were not looking; he gave her a pitcher of water and some bread, and then said:
“Baba is waiting at Dago.”
She nodded her head, and he turned and left. He could not look her in the eye. She looked back and met eyes that twinkled like fireflies. Before the train left, she looked out through the door, she saw a woman in brown booboo, her baby slept, pressed on her broad shoulders.
Through the corners of her face, Nni saw she was from her tribe. The woman turned, and saw her looking, she smiled and boarded on the passenger’s end. The train gradually drew forward, amidst waving hands. Nni searched for his face in the crowd, but he was as far gone as she was, with some coins for a new cow that jiggled in his pocket.
Nni was woken by the loud scream of the horn; the train slowly came to a stop. Gradually, the door to their cage opened. Nni looked at the sign on the train station and it read, Oka. She learnt to read and write at school, when her father travelled to Doga. Her mother took her for the first time; it was fields far from home. Her teachers said she was bright. Her mother was a school teacher, but she stayed at home to tend to the cows.
One day, her father came to school, saw her seated on the floor, he dragged her by the ear to the house. That night, she wept as the whips descended on her mother’s bare back for her behalf. Their eyes met old men with planks with names boldly scribbled on them. They looked at their faces, while they held the boards to their hearts. The girls got up one after the other, and with head bent, went to stand by the old men who gently led them away. When Nni looked back, she saw Sika, her classmate:
“Sika!”
Their eyes met, but Sika had lost her smile; it was her charm, back in school. Nni remembered how they used to run around in class, and how they went hunting for sweet oranges at break time. Sika gradually bent her head, and joined a blind old man who had a lead. Nni looked away, and then she knew what awaited her arrival at Doga.
It was night and the train had run for hours, nonstop. Nni remembered she had bread and water. She brought the bread out, broke it and started eating. A shuffling noise made her stop, and she looked up. There were more than four pairs of eyes that looked hungrily back at her. She broke the bread, passed it to the first person; she looked into Nni’s eyes, and then took the bread, and started ate hungrily. Nni passed the bread and the water around. It was not yet long before fireflies started entering the cabin from the hole.
She was amazed; she seldom played with them at home with her small ones, after dinner. Nni got up, and started swinging her arms around, while the fireflies swam around while their light danced around her. The girls looked at her in amazement, and soon, they all joined her to play with the fireflies. When she went to have water, she tilted her head back, and from the corners of her eyes, she saw that each little girl had unlocked the many rivers of happiness inside her. They played till they all fell asleep.
The following day, the chill cry woke them. Nni peeped through the hole, and on the wall of the station was: Doga. The door was gradually opened, fear came back and gripped them, haven played all through the previous night, not knowing what to expect. Nni held her breath, too. When the door was wide open, she met the same face that smiled at her while her baby slept.
She smiled the more, Nni came down, the woman gave her the baby to carry, and took Nni’s bag, she held her hand and gradually led her away from the crowd, unnoticed. When they were far off from the crowd, Nni looked back, and on a board, boldly written was her name. She turned back; she never wanted to look no more, because she had caught a firefly.
Written by Oluoma Udemezue.
Udemezue, Oluoma loves to read, travel, meet new people, think up ideas, create new things, and write. She believes that life is twisted by a touch of romance, thriller and suspense. You can catch her on udemezueoluoma@yahoo.com, oluomaudemezue on Instagram, and @Udemezueoluoma on Twitter.
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