Africa kills her Sun By Ken Saro Wiva
Dear
Bana,
In
every letter that I ever wrote to you, I knew exactly how to begin it, what I
was going to say in the middle and how I was going to end it. It was never
difficult. I wrote them effortlessly, probably because I thought I knew you
that I was writing to the man I once knew and fell for, or may be it’s because
I knew there was a possibility of a reply no matter how small it seemed to be. But
today, I sit here with a pen and a paper and all I can do is wet my paper with
tears. Tears of lost love, tears of unimaginable pain, and tears of a dream
deferred.
I
am crying for so many reasons. I cry because you are dead, because you turned
out to be the very thing you swore never to be but most of all, am crying
because you gave up on us in your quest for selfish patriotic ideas! We could
have had a life together, we could have had our children and we could have had our
happily ever after if you did not choose that stupid profession and gave your
life to save your friends. What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at
all?? Had you lost all your senses? Were you under some form of spell? I have
so many questions that seem to have no clear answer.
I
don’t know how I should feel about all this. I don’t even know what this is so am just
going to write anything that comes to mind starting with the memories that have
tormented me for the past 10 years. Do you remember where we used to meet? Do
you remember back in the days when we concocted all form of lies just to spend
some time together? Do you remember how you would lie to your mother that you
were going to cut grass for the goats, and I would say I was going to fetch
water in the stream only for us to disappear together in the forest, eat fruits
all day, play and dance together as though the rest of the world did not exist?
Do you remember how you used to hold me so tight and tell me you would give up
anything to have me by your side? Do you remember our long conversations and
true confessions under the sycamore tree? Do you remember how we used to bath together
in the river Nash? I don’t know if you remember, or even how you could forget
all these because for me, these memories kept me going when you were nowhere to
be seen. They kept me going when you vanished without a trace!
I
still remember the day I found out you had left without saying goodbye as if it
just happened few hours ago. It was Saturday 10th June; I went to
our usual meeting place in the afternoon hoping to see you. I had a surprise
for you; a sweater I had been knitting in secret for our future first born. I
was so excited to show you how pretty it was and how I could not wait to have a
baby with you. We had agreed we were going to call him Syna. The Initials to
our two favorite places. So I went there and you were nowhere to be seen. I sat
for hours, waiting, wondering what could have happened to you. Then, when the
sun set, I had to go back home confused; wondering what could have happened to
you. My worries were not unfounded as you had never missed a date with me even
when you were sick. I spent the night staring into the darkness, wetting my
pillow, my heart in my mouth, questions of what could have befallen the love of
my life running through my mind.
The
next morning I went to church, prayed for your well being and that you show up
at our usual meeting place. When the time came I went to our meeting point with
my little black sweater. I didn’t find you and waited in vain. I decided to go
to your house; a decision that was not easy considering your mom never liked
me. She was always irked at my sight and always disapproved of my relationship
with you. Luckily, I didn’t find her home as she had gone to fetch water from
the stream. Your younger brother was home and he told me you had left to look
for a job in town.
In
as much as I was relieved that you were not sick, dead or in prison, I was a
little bit mad that you never found it proper to inform me of your plans before
you set out on your sojourn. That notwithstanding, I was astounded, shocked
beyond measure when I finally came to learn of the path you had taken. My heart
broke into pieces when I realized you had ascribed to some stupid patriotic
principles that had consumed your soul. How could you do that? How could you
swear your love for me in one minute and the next take off without saying goodbye
as if I never meant anything to you? How could we be talking about building the
family together, having a future together and before I know it you have
vanished without a trace? I cried, I cursed and I blamed you for a very long
time. But even in all this, I never stopped writing to you or going to our meeting
place every chance I got. Sometimes, I would write a note and leave it under
the sycamore tree hoping that by some miracle you will collect it. I know it
sounds crazy but somehow, I thought you might one day come back to me. Needless
to say, that was wishful thinking.
It
wasn’t easy being the girl I used to be when you left. I was broken, shattered
and my mum thought I wasn’t going to live. I didn’t eat or drink for days. I
cried every time I looked at that little black sweater and the thought that you
never got to see it, and you never even got a chance to know I was making it.
After a while my Aunty Nina came to visit and I begged her to take me with her.
I felt like there was no longer a place for me in the village. Everything
reminded me of you, everyone reminded me of you. I wanted to start afresh; I
wanted to be happy again. Little did I know when you left you took a part of me
that I could never get back.
I
started school again in Masagura high school back in the village where my aunt
lived with her family. I was determined to be the best so that I could be chosen
to join Kwamanga College in town with a hope of meeting you some day. When the
time came I did my exams and passed with flying colors. I remember the day I
went back home to inform my parents of the news that I was going to a college
in town. They were so happy for me. I passed by your house to ask if you had
been around, if you got any of my letters I sent to you and I was told you
never came back, your mother gave me back my letters, some of them were half
way eaten by rats. So I took them put them in the small bag my father had
bought me in the market hoping I would give them to you in person when I met
you.
My
life in college was okay, except for the fact that while other girls would
engage in the social activities after school I walked around asking people if
they knew you. I had an old picture of you the one you took the day you got
your confirmation, am not sure you remember it, I knew you might have changed considering you
took that picture a long time ago but I decided to give it a short. My friends
thought I was crazy to look for a man who left me without even a goodbye but I
told them I just wanted to know why you did what you did. I needed to hear it
from you. After two years of searching with no success I began to lose hope, I
became desperate so I found myself in toxic relationships. Now that I think about it, I realize I never
really stopped looking for you. I was still looking for you in other people.
Everyman I slept with, or had a relationship with was because he had something
that reminded me of you. The truth is I didn’t care whose bed I slept in as
long as it made me feel close to you.
Then,
one morning, I woke up to the news of bandits who were going to be killed in
the stadium. Your name was mentioned alongside other names that I didn’t
recognize. I gazed at the picture in an old TV set at my boyfriend’s apartment
and I saw your face. I didn’t even shower; I took off to the bus stop, took the
first bus hoping I could get just few minutes with you before they kill you but
by the time I got there you were already dead. Your body had been taken by the
city police. I knew my chance to get answers was gone. I cried so hard until my
voice and the tears dried out. The city was no longer a good place for me, so I
went back home to our village, there is where I found the letter you wrote to
me.
If
you are wondering how it made me feel, well don’t, because it made me feel as
though I had lost you all over again, it was more like the day I found out you
left without saying good bye. You say you are proud of your profession; that you
are in company of presidents and ministers and social workers, since when did
you start to care about how others live their lives? Since when did it become
about the wrong things just because everyone else is doing it? How could you
forget your good morals and do the bad things just because no one is telling
you to stop? How did you become so selfish that you forgot your whole family depended
on you? Your father used everything he had to take you to school with a hope
that you would help your siblings after you got a job and you repay him by
throwing your life away under the lame excuse of solidarity? I am disappointed
in you in ways I can never explain, I thought you knew better.
Anyway,
I have spoken to your father about your statue, he suggested we put your grave
among your ancestors, we did not get your body but we are still going to make a
grave as you asked me to. In it we will put anything that symbolizes you and
burry it. For me I will put all the letters I wrote to you in the past ten
years and the little black sweater I was to show you before you left. Just so
you know am not doing this because you deserve it. But for the sake of the love
we once shared, I will grant you your last wish.
I
hope we meet again in the next life because I have so many questions that only
you can answer them.
Love,
Zole
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