Finding Omena

EDIRIN dropped his hoe at the loud sound of a blast. He needed no soothsayer to tell him that it was a bomb blast.

His farmland is about three kilometers from the Oru'ah community but the sound was so loud that he felt the vibration.

He picked his cutlass.

Edirin ran as fast as he could, knowing that every second counts and if he waits any longer, whatever he meets when he gets home would be irreversible.

He thought of nothing else. He ignored the several cuts he had sustained while running through the thick bushes filled with spear and elephant grasses.

“Omena!"

The thoughts of his three-year-old daughter made him run even faster but he covered only a short distance.

“Ena!"

He remembered his pregnant wife who is due to give birth any time soon. “I hope wherever you are, you’re not trying to hide. Please, run to safety.” He prayed.

He ran towards the rising smoke. However, he was already exhausted. His feet could no longer run as fast as his mind and spirit would want him to.

The little community of Oru'ah has had several predictions of an impending attack by armed nomadic aliens. It was barely twenty-four hours when they received word about an attack on a neighboring village. The people of Oru'ah knew it was only a matter of time before these marauders would overrun them. They had received relatives from the neighboring village the previous day who narrated their ordeals in the hands of these invaders.

The Ovie of Oru'ah dismissed such stories and encouraged his subjects to go about their daily activities with so much assurance of their safety. Some accused him of taking the reports too casually. Others who received their relatives from the neighboring village with injuries had arranged to flee the previous night, carrying as many supplies as they could carry.

Armed Nomadic Aliens… Some believed they are from far away natives of the Maghreb. No one knows for sure. However, in their path, they have left nothing but carnage. As Edirin got closer, it was like a dream. It was not just a single smoke rising from a distance. However, almost all the quarters in the village had their buildings torched. There is no counting of the dead.

He had run for more than thirty minutes. He did not wait to catch his breath. He continued and headed towards his house. Through the path to his house, he saw some of the villagers mourning the loss of their loved ones. The palace of the Ovie was destroyed.

“I’m such a fool to have believed this old man", he thought to himself. “When I could have made plans to run the previous night. I believed his empty promises of safety.”

The thought of his family was the only strength that kept Edirin going. He finally approached his house. “Ena!” he screamed as he saw the entrance door widely open. He clenched his fist around the handle of the cutlass and ran into the house.

“Ena!” he called out his wife’s name but no response. He searched through the rooms in the house.

“Omena!” called out his daughter’s name. He heard no response.

He quickly ran out through the back door and finds the lifeless body of Ena. His wife. It was a gory sight.

He cried uncontrollably. He dropped the cutlass and bent down to carry Ena. He screamed, almost losing his voice. She is gone. Gone with their unborn child.

“How could one be so wicked?” he thought. Who would be so heartless to lead an attack on innocent villagers and not still consider sparing a woman with a child?”

He cried aloud. He tried to hold her slit throat with the hope of causing a miracle that would bring her back to life. However, she is gone.

Then he started blaming himself.

“If I had stayed behind. If I had not taken the words of that old man who probably did not even believe his own words of assurance. Whom I believe must have cowered to safety since last night. If only I had believed those who came from the neighboring village with the news and warnings of an impending attack. If only I had followed them immediately to flee. I wouldn’t be here holding the lifeless body of my wife.”

He cried out and held his wife very close to himself. He looked at the cutlass he had dropped.

“What’s there to live for?” he thought. “You’re my world and you’re gone. What’s there to live for?”

He looked at his wife and reached out to his cutlass. However,

“Omena,” he called out softly.

He looked at his wife. Then he noticed the necklace with half of the heart-shaped locket was gone. He had bought a heart-shaped locket with a pure gold chain as a gift to his wife when they had their daughter. The half that was with the wife was gone. The other half had been with their daughter since birth.

“Omena, where are you?” he called out with a cracked voice.

He was void of strength. He gently dropped his wife on the ground where he had found her. He stood up shakily and started checking everywhere around the compound and inside the house to find Omena. He called her name but got no response.

The night was fast creeping in.

“There will always be another day to mourn the dead.” He encouraged himself. He came out of the house with a shovel. “I have to find my daughter. Even if she is dead, I want to find her body. Let me bury her. Then I can decide if this life is still worth living.”

He cleaned his eyes and started digging not too far from his house. He dug the ground as deep as his strength could. He then laid the lifeless body of his wife in the grave. He cried while covering the grave.

The thoughts of finding his daughter gave him strength but waiting any longer will expose him to attack as these aliens always come back to settle in villages they’ve attacked. Not leaving to search for his daughter will further expose her to more danger if she is still alive.

He picked up supplies for his search and at the same time to seek safety outside Oru’ah. The night came so fast and he never hesitated to leave. As he walked through the village, the burning buildings lit his path.

He trekked all night with few other villagers who had waited until nightfall before escaping.

At dawn, they approached the next village, Ogodo, only to see rising smoke from afar.

“They’ve attacked here too,” he thought to himself. “Where can one be safe?”

The surviving villagers have pitched tents at the outskirts. They have formed vigilante groups to protect themselves, armed with locally made weapons.

“Calling on the government would be a waste of time. They have sympathized with these aliens, intending to make them allies so they would stop these attacks. However, they keep breaking these truces. They will never stop. They will keep leaving death and destruction behind. Their objective, nobody knows.”

Edirin approached the village head. He submitted his daughter’s name and showed him a picture of Omena. The village head and those with him assured him that if Omena had come this far, they would have seen her. They showed him the names of those on their role call. They also took him through the area where children are kept, but Omena was not there.

He continued on his journey down south towards OdehTown roughly twenty-five kilometers from Ogodo. This is to find out anything about his daughter. Odeh is the local government headquarters.

On the way, he saw a group of militiamen heavily armed walking ahead of him, probably towards Odeh Town. He kept his distance behind them and tried to evade them whenever they stopped to rest.

One of them dropped his gun and walked away from the group to urinate. The militant walked down towards a nearby stream. Edirin followed, keeping a safe distance.

That moment, he noticed, he could overpower him; Edirin quietly picked a sizable tree branch heavy enough to be used as a weapon. As the militant is about undoing his zipper, Edirin struck him at the back of his head. This knocked him down immediately. He quickly bent over him and began to search his pocket. He turned the unconscious body over and noticed he was just a teenage boy. Edirin felt the wetness of the boy’s head

Edirin tried to fight a couple of tears back knowing that he probably had committed murder, but he tried to ignore the feeling of guilt. Like his spirit has moved him to follow this particular militant, he searched through his clothing and found a piece of paper. He fumbled with it and opened it. His eyes widened at the list of towns and villages they planned to attack.

He looked again, very conscious of the environment. He looked through the tall grasses to see if anyone was coming. He then felt something in one of his pockets. He brought the item out and it was his wife’s locket. Half of the heart-shaped locket. The one that was with his wife.

“He must have been the one who slit her throat,” he thought.

He quickly put it in his pocket. He tried to jerk him up to make him speak but the militant was unconscious.

“Where’s my daughter?”

He heard approaching voices and quickly scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could. He heard indistinct shouts but he continued forming his path through the thick bushes. He looked back many times to see if anyone was following him.

He had summoned little courage after finding his wife’s locket.

“What’s next?”

He trekked the twenty-five kilometers, very optimistic that he would submit substantial information to the local government council chairperson. Moreover, this would make the people of Odeh Town prepare for an imminent attack.

To his greatest dismay at arriving at Odeh town, it is already a ghost town. He saw only a few people armed with locally made weapons. Many of them gave him apprehensive looks even though he seemed harmless. He could not even approach any of them to ask what happened or to find out if there are any internally displaced people camps around.

Walking around the town, he concluded there was no camp for internally displaced people.

He sat at an abandoned shop. He did not realize when tears started streaming down his cheeks. He felt exhausted. He has been on the road in the last twenty-four hours and has trekked over forty kilometers. He does not know where to begin as the only haven he had thought of has been overrun by these armed aliens.

“If it will take me years to find Omena,” he encouraged himself. “I will find her.”

He ate a portion of the food supplies he carried. Since he left his village, he had been conscious of his ration. Although set out for a mission, he tried to eat to have the strength to continue on his journey. He had a good rest until he saw the setting of the sun.

He looked at the half of the heart-shaped locket he had collected from the militant. He wiped his tears. He picked his bag and stood up.

“If I have to check all IDP camps from here to the state’s capital, I will do so.”

He started his journey again, toward the state’s capital. The only thing ahead of him is the lonely dirt road littered with lifeless bodies and burnt vehicles. The only strength he has is the thought of finding Omena.