Hard Knocks

By Olufemi A. Togun

Habass looked at the shattered head of his man; astonished the police were
such good marksmen. For him, this was a signal to move. Without the
grenade launcher, he knew it would be difficult to match the firepower of
the anti riot police who out numbered them. The jeep leapt forward and
out of its parking space, before tearing out on screeching tires. Smoke from
its burning tires rose into the air like wisps of steam from a teacup. Isah got
behind the wheel of the Toyota Liteace minibus while the others scrambled
in. As the vehicle screeched out of its parking space, volleys from the
concerted fire of the anti riot policemen hit it repeatedly, shattering all the
glass windows, wind shields, and deflating its tires. Yelps of pain emanated
from the occupants as the slugs lodged in their bodies. Having no other
option, the robbers spilled unto the street once again firing wildly as they
tried to make their get away on foot. It was an effort in futility.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 12, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453593455

Olufemi A. Togun

Olufemi Akintunde Togun is a creative writer from Nigeria. He was educated at the University of Ibadan, Ibadan, Nigeria, West Africa, and holds a Masters degree in Educational Psychology / Guidance and Counselling. Presently, he works for the Oyo state government of Nigeria as a Guidance Counsellor, helping adolescents become more adjusted, productive, and relevant in their society. He is single.

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Prologue

IT WAS AN exceptionally chilly morning, the third Sunday in the month of December. It was the year of the Lord, nineteen hundred and sixty-eight. Christmas thrills and songs were already in the air. Homes in turn were decorated with the frills, and paraphernalia, of the season. The harmattan, seemingly standing astride the entire region, though in obvious motion, was just settling in, creeping silently in from the direction of the Sahara like a panther stalking its prey, this time attempting to confirm his authority over the southern region without the characteristic howling and wailing. He gently stamped his presence and supremacy over his counterpart the rainy season, ripping off her succulence as it stealthily blew past. The crisp dryness and chill of the season inadvertently entrenched a peculiar barrenness as overlord over the entire region. Absent were the howling winds and dirty haze that were usually companions on his annual journey toward the southern part of that vast country. It was as if all had conspired to take a French leave or what is referred to as away without leave (AWOL) in military parlance. It was more like a conspiracy that left the master of the northeast trade wind alone in its solitary quest.

The appointed destination of this chill mingled with evident dryness was a very famous but ancient city situated in the coastal region of one of the most prominent countries in sub-Saharan Africa. However, the weather’s annual visitation wasn’t meant for that city alone, but the entire country and ultimately the whole region of the African continent that lay in its path. The harmattan, as a norm, bore down, colonizing the entire geographical regions lying in its course. It effortlessly traverses the southern hemisphere from its northern home. The city where it now dropped anchor was, however, more famous for a boisterous citizenry, intermittent rains, and cool weather. This was a land used to a Mediterranean climate because of the proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, certainly not a serene atmosphere, or the harsh, dry climate the harmattan was wont to cast.

That morning was a gloomy one for the solitary occupant of a very small room in the nondescript building, tucked away in the suburb of that boisterous city. This was in spite of the exceeding brightness of that particular day. It was evident the haze that usually accompanied the chill was missing as visibility was very good. Even the verdure of the landscape could be savored for miles. Though nature seemed willingly inclined to an extreme generosity with the sunlight, it was evident she had no intention of bailing out the solitary figure huddled in a corner of a small room in the bungalow by taking away the overshadowing gloom. The bright sunlight penetrated her bedroom, waking her up as early as 6:30 a.m. The young lady would have preferred a longer lie in bed that day. She felt queasy, and her body was bloated and heavy. Obviously, this condition wasn’t from overfeeding or indigestion. Certainly, it was manmade.

The birds of dawn still chirped in the trees. They hopped from branch to branch, painting the dawn in bright pastel colors of blue, black, yellow, red, and brown as their feathers flashed across the sky. Kike Omoba rolled to the edge of her bed; she yawned, stretching her arms over her head in one fluid motion. The incessant sounds of nocturnal insects just fading out hit her ear as she struggled out of bed. She peered through the corner of the window blind. In spite of the harsh change in weather, the lush vegetation still possessed an alluring verdure. It still looked green as the fresh light of dawn hit the cascading landscape of the region. She shivered involuntarily as the crisp cold air enveloped her.

Everything within view seemed to possess a glorious hue, complements of the morning brightness. The young lass took a deep breath, savoring the scent of drying vegetation, but knew she would be unable to go back to sleep even if she wanted to. Maybe if it had been an hour or two earlier, she would have stolen another moment of shut eyes. However, she knew she had to be up early to help madam with the house chores and in getting the family prepared for church. After all, that was her primary function in that home. Only a very serious problem or incapacitating state would serve as an excuse for shelving that function. She struggled up, plodding to the wooden frame set in the wall, opened her bedroom door silently, and then meandered her way to the kitchen to start the day. She placed a pot over the burning stove lit only minutes before, then picked out a broom from the small heap stashed behind the kitchen door. There was no point trying to light the gas cooker. The family had run out of gas precisely two days earlier. Kike had informed the master of the house immediately, but the cylinder was yet to be refilled. For reasons best kept under wraps, madam’s husband preferred to keep to himself these days, trying his best to avoid her like the plague. Kike knew why this was so. It was a secret between only two in that household.

She swept with such dexterity as if trained specifically in that particular chore. Soon the whole house was swept. Next, she took a moist napkin to dust the furniture. With that done, she opened the back doorway to the house, then proceeded outside to continue sweeping. The cold, dry air hit her hard, making her catch her breath with a silent exclamation and making her drop the broom in the process. She wrapped her cover cloth tightly over the local adire attire she had on her body, then pulled the nylon scarf she had on her head over her ears. Bending down, she picked up the broom, then began to sweep.

Normally, she would have burst into one of the many songs she was accustomed to sing when going through the motions of her daily chores. This morning, she certainly was in no mood for any form of melody or rhythm. Her thoughts were far away, her body tired and heavy in spite of the long night’s slumber. A silent teardrop escaped her right eyelid, followed closely by its twin. Soon she was sobbing silently. She wept silently for a while as if she knew that opening the floodgate of tears most times helps lift the burden from human souls. A little while later, she continued her chore. Fortunately, the entire compound was covered with concrete flooring. This made her chore as simple as being indoors, except for the chilly wind that scattered the debris she wanted gathered and packed. She was soon done. With the edge of her wrapper, she wiped her face and then strolled silently into the kitchen.

By this time, the water in the pot had reached boiling point. She poured the contents of the pot into a thermo flask, which she ferried gingerly into the dining room. She placed this on the dinning table, with the tin of beverage and sugar and then opened the drawers on the wooden shelf close by where plates and cutlery were kept. Slowly, she began to set the table for breakfast. Picking up the tin of oats on the dining table, she left for the kitchen. Soaking a measure of the tin’s content in a solution of water and salt, she poured it into the pot and then placed it on the burning stove. When it was cooked, she poured it into a large oval bowl, covered it, and went into the dining section to place it on the table. She fried some bacon, sausages, and eggs. This she also carried into the dining room in different dishes. Opening the double door cupboard underneath the drawers, she picked out a large loaf of sliced bread. Placing this beside the double toaster already on the dining table, she once more made her way to the kitchen. She picked the milk jar and butter dish, placed them on the dinning table, then returned to the kitchen. Slowly, she lowered the wick of the kerosene stove, knowing it would extinguish by itself and then moved outside to drop the remnants of her cooking into the trash basket placed just outside the kitchen door.

Kike completed her chores just as the madam of the house came into the kitchen to see how far she had gone with that morning’s breakfast. Mrs. Elsie Obazi, who was already washed and dressed for church, nodded in satisfaction. She was a big woman, dark complexioned, tall, strong, determined, with a loud voice and decided manner. She was very strict and cut a picture, representing a spirit of order and arithmetic in her home and at work. Elsie, at nearly thirty-five years of age, couldn’t be considered beautiful, but was ravishing all the same in her flashy attire. She was blessed with an oblong face, cropped curly hair, a perfect figure, gait, and alluring demeanor. Elsie had studied Guidance Counseling as her first degree. Now armed with a Master of Education, and PhD degrees with a specialty in Clinical, and Adolescent Psychology, she practiced in a coeducational/corrective institution for adolescents located in the outskirts of the city.

Elsie was utterly satisfied with Kike’s handling of the domestic concern of the home and only supervised her on occasions. Kike had been brought to her home six years earlier by a first cousin of hers when the young lass was just twelve. The first cousin, Ekaete Enefiok, was born by her mother’s elder sister. Their family originated from a prominent tribal stock in the southern east of the country and had migrated to the southwestern part for economic reasons. Ekaete was a lawyer by profession. She was several years older than Elsie and had chosen to marry from their tribe rather than from the east central region like her first cousin. Her eldest daughter named Veronica, but called as Ronnie by siblings and friends, had just turned nineteen. She and her two other male siblings lived with their mother in the capital city. Ekaete’s husband, a marine engineer by profession, was usually out of the country on a ship he maintained for Alliance Shipping Line, a private sea haulage company.

Ekaete had met Kike’s mother when the poor woman came to the capital city in search of what to do to make ends meet and had shown compassion for her plight. Kike’s mother had been unfortunate to have her husband consumed in a bushfire about a year earlier, precisely during the planting season of nineteen hundred and fifty-five. The man, a polygamist, had left her with practically nothing to fall back on at his death. Kike’s mother was the fourth and youngest wife. Being so young, inexperienced, and with their husband so poor, the older wives, who had sons to show for their time with the man, had taken possession of all the man had. Having no son of her own had eventually been her Waterloo. The custom of their village made it imperative for only the male siblings to inherit their father’s property. It was the norm in that part of the country. Ekaete had taken the woman into her own home. Being without education except a preprimary school training, Kike’s mother had no option but to become Ekaete’s housemaid.

Kike, her mother’s only child, had been forced to abandon all educational pursuits in her second year in secondary school when she lost her father. The accident had been a terrible one that occurred several miles away in their village. The rainy season was approaching, and the man being a farmer, had cleared a large portion of his farmland. He set fire to it as it was customarily done in that part of the country. Unknown to him, someone in the adjacent farm had done likewise. Maybe fate took a hand, as the two fires started simultaneously. The bush fire had gone out of control leaving the poor man in the middle of a towering inferno. His screams could be heard for miles as the inferno sucked dry his vital fluids, leaving only a charred stump for identification and burial by his relations.

Unknown to many, the strange occurrence was spiritual and demonic. It was a trend of ancestral curse that ran its course in that family. Kike’s grandfather too had been killed in a fire incident that completely engulfed his rented apartment. The man and one of his wives had been killed in that fire. Perhaps if the family had known of this trend, precautionary measures or spiritual steps would have been taken that could ward off this evil trend. Unfortunately, no one had an inkling of what was transpired in the spiritual plane concerning the family. No one had any idea of what crime had been committed in the past by their ancestors to warrant such punitive measures. In that part of the country, and amongst the tribe, most things if not everything was put down to fate or destiny. This incident, coupled with her not being a male child, left Kike no option than to follow her mother to the capital city in search of greener pastures. Since Ekaete Enefiok could not accommodate both mother and child, she had persuaded her first cousin to take Kike into her home.

In the years that followed, Elsie tutored Kike well, especially in cooking and home management. Being an excellent student, the young lass absorbed her lessons with a passion that surprised even Elsie herself. She was devoted and open to correction. She was innovative, experimental, and could improvise. By the time she turned sixteen four years later, she had become an expert in that field. There was no dish she couldn’t prepare, local or continental, though confectionaries were her most loved passion. Even Uzorchi, Elsie’s first child and only daughter, who was three years younger, was subjugated to Kike when kitchen chores and cooking were the main concern. Elsie made sure Uzorchi related to Kike like a sister rather than a house help. She was enjoined to assist her in the kitchen and learn the culinary ropes from her. The love, compassion, and empathy Elsie afforded Kike increased over the years, more so when she learned of the poor girl’s mother’s death from an undisclosed illness a few months after her sixteenth birthday. Knowing the poor girl now had no one else in the world to look up or turn to, Elsie made up her mind to treat her like the family’s adopted child.

At the time of her mother’s death, Kike had outgrown the junior classes of secondary school. In spite of this, Elsie got private tutors. She felt sure the bright girl would excel if enrolled for the school leaving examinations. Due to Kike’s performance at her lessons, Elsie felt encouraged to continue paying for the private tutor who jointly taught Kike and her own children. She made up her mind to enroll both girls for the secondary school leaving examinations coming up in June of the following year. If Kike was successful, Elsie would allow her sit for the advanced level examinations and then train her up to the university level. Elsie felt she owed the girl and humanity this philanthropic gesture. She believed in the popular slogan.

Educate a man and you educate an individual, but educate a woman and you educate an entire community.

This aside, Elsie felt Kike deserved the best, not just because of her unfortunate background, but especially for the kind of behavioral attitude exhibited. The love Elsie had for her was certainly more than just skin deep. Kike’s attitude, honesty, benign nature, and intelligence captured a special spot in Elsie’s emotional strata.

A few years later, Ekaete Enefiok, Elsie’s first cousin was compelled to relocate to the northern part of the country. This was after the sad news that the crew on her husband’s ship had all been drowned when their ship struck an iceberg in the arctic region of North America. The search and rescue efforts of the combined navy and air force of the nearest country, which was the United States of America, yielded no success in spite of several weeks’ toil. The incident left Ekaete extremely distraught and inconsolable. From that point on, life seemed to have very little meaning to her. If not for her children, she probably would have had no reason to live on. She loved her husband so dearly. Ekaete felt her continued stay in the capital city reminded her too much of her late husband. The sight of the Atlantic beach where the whole family hitherto went for picnics became a reminder of her husband’s demise.

When she eventually made up her mind to leave, she informed no one due to her grief. Elsie later found out she settled perfectly in the northern part of the country. Here, she started a new law chamber. They eventually reestablished contact, constantly keeping in touch as both cousins tried to rebuild an intimacy that had become shaky.

Uzorchi on her part regarded herself lucky to have a sister, playmate, cum house help of such sterling quality, who knew her onions and could be trusted implicitly in their home. By now, Kike had been with the family for over six years, and unlike all her predecessors, she did not steal. Elsie had set various traps to test her integrity in the past, and the unknowing girl had passed them all in flying colors. The only problem Elsie envisaged was Kike’s attractiveness. This was quite evident. The maturing girl was petit, light complexioned, soft spoken, and gifted with the curves in all the right places. She was also well mannered, decent in looks, and had excellent hygiene. Also, Kike was still an adolescent; she would be nineteen on her next birthday just a few months away. Even though Kike seemed oblivious of her beauty, observers believed she was just being modest. After all, she looked in the mirror often enough.

II

Elsie watched with apprehension as Kike blossomed into womanhood. The girl had indeed grown into a ravishing beauty. The surrogate mother was proud of her adopted ward, though a little wary and apprehensive. Although she had never seen Kike in any male’s company other than her own children, she knew a beauty like her would soon begin to attract the males like bees to honey no matter what precautions she took. It was inevitable Kike on her own part would soon start thinking about having relationships with the opposite sex. Elsie wanted to be sure she was prepared for it when the time came. She also wanted to be sure Kike did not suffer from any form of abuse. She therefore guided and guarded her like she did Uzorchi.

Elsie believed no female was immune from relationship abuse. This is especially true of young women in their adolescent years who are considered to be at highest risk. Elsie knew that aside from simply lacking the experience to know what is normal and healthy in a relationship, adolescents are even more vulnerable to relationship abuses because of the specific developmental tasks they constantly struggled with. Due to her training, Elsie was aware adolescence was a long and often very difficult transition period. It was a period to develop their independence and sense of identity. Due to this factor, teens naturally begin to rely more on peers as they develop personal value systems and their sexual identity. This stage, more often than not, could make them more likely to believe an abuser, invariably making them vulnerable when they are given negative messages about their self-worth or told they deserve to be treated in a particular way. For a teen that was struggling so much with her self-image, as all teens do, she may easily be misled by being informed negatively or positively by someone she cares about that she is lacking in certain quality or that certain body parts are too small or too big. The emotional effects of these, though not essentially important, can be devastating.

Elsie’s concern was also because a teenage girl that experiences coercion into unwanted sex, or is raped, especially at the hands of someone she trusts, tends to develop a sense of betrayal and confusion. This could have a lifelong impact. The fear of disclosing her experience to peers or family is often enough to keep her from seeking help when relationships turn awry. Elsie therefore knew that recognizing and mastering this evolution of the body, mind, and spirit was most critical in her quest for retaining this gem in her home, while at the same time preventing her husband and three sons who were just settling into their adolescence from any hanky panky. Uzorchi was now sixteen; the boys came after her at two-year intervals.

Elsie trusted her husband implicitly. In her perception, Ralph Obazi was a man of discipline. Though he was a military man, a major in the army, he was unlike most of his ilk. Most military men were reputed to be very amorous, promiscuous to a fault, and seem to thrive in alcoholic revelry, but Ralph was certainly not like most, or was he? He didn’t have a head for strong drink and had never given her any cause to doubt his integrity where women of easy virtue were concerned. The man, though tough and hard, had never given her any anxiety where the opposite sex was concerned. Even when he served outside the state on various assignments, there had never been any cause to doubt. Her stance, however, did not dispel her fears in totality. After all, she was a woman just like any other. Elsie was smart enough to know even men of integrity were not infallible where the temptation was pungent. She could perceive she harbored in her humble home, a future sex siren, a siren that even right then blew ever so softly. Experience had taught her that nothing in this world was static, especially where relationships between sexes were in question. A man subjected to temptation could succumb even when he’d previously resolved not to. Also, an innocent girl, a virgin at that, may find it difficult to resist someone she loves and trusts, someone she perceived as a father figure.

This made things more complicated because in such cases, the girl usually found it difficult to confide in others. Elsie therefore made it a point of duty to analyze the relationship between the developing girl and her husband on one hand, then her growing boys on the other in a most clandestine but subtle manner. It would certainly be embarrassing if any of them should put the girl in the family way. She also made it a point of duty to study attitudes and behavior patterns of all adolescents she came in contact with, especially those who chose risky behaviors.

In this venture, she had ample guinea pigs in the corrective institution where she worked.

III

Kike Omoba sat in a corner of the room looking very morose. She was obviously in distress. The rest of the family had gone to church, so the house was eerily silent. Kike had expressed her inability to attend that morning service with a complaint of an oncoming feverish feeling and fatigue. At the back of her mind, she knew what had to be done. She had watched Elsie sadly as the family departed for church, especially as she was the last to climb into the car. Kike held her head between her two hands, shaking it from side to side as tears slowly welled up in her eyes. Silently, the twin droplets began to creep down her cheeks till they assumed a miniature cascade reminiscent of a waterfall.

It was three months since she last saw her period. That meant she was pregnant. There was no doubt about that now. She didn’t need a doctor to divulge that information. This, however, was not the main reason for the way she felt at that moment. The issue was how to inform her benefactor, someone she saw as her mother; how does one inform such a person that her husband was responsible for the condition she now was. The Obazi family was a decent one, and they had been very supportive and loving to her. Her madam, who she called Auntie, most especially had shown her agape love and never discriminating between her and the only daughter she had. New clothes were bought for her like all the rest of that family, rather than being compelled to use old clothes passed down to her. Elsie’s daughter, Uzorchi, was made to do house chores and participate in cooking just like her. It was a part of her training as a developing woman. The boys, too, also helped out in chores, though most of theirs were of the outdoor variety. A family that had shown her so much love shouldn’t be torn apart by the scandal that would erupt if Elsie got wind that her husband was responsible for her condition. Though it was imperative Elsie found out, it would be better if she was no more a member of that household when she did. The trust she had in her would dissolve, disintegrating like an obvious chemical reaction. A cube of sugar dropped in boiling water. She chose the most honorable option open to her. She decided to leave. It was better to leave the house she had known as home unceremoniously without unsettling the tranquility she had come to love and accept as her own.

Her mind went to that fateful night three months earlier. Uncle Ralph, as she called him, had come to her room in the middle of the night. His caress had woken her up in fright. Springing to her feet, she tried to raise an alarm, but the man had simultaneously sprung up the palm of his big hand, covering her mouth before any sound welled up in her throat. Her struggles were mere spasms of pleasure to the man who held her in a vice-like grip. He wrestled her to the floor, pushing up her nightgown with whispers.

Take it easy, dear, take it easy now. I won’t hurt you. I only want to make you a woman.

She had continued to struggle, but he was far too strong. She gasped as she felt a searing pain between her legs, followed by a