Spiritus Mundi: A Tale of Micheal Demssie Sakoto

By AlexTalker

Spiritus Mundi is a captivating book which sheds light on the concept of the consciousness and memory of the universe as a making of the creator. It tells of the fight between good and evil through the life of Micheal and how he came to the knowledge of the creator in his quest for freedom and justice.
The book is set around colonial/post colonial era

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665526876

AlexTalker

Alex_Talker is an imaginative writer of Nigerian decent whose passion for writing started from high school with poetry. Alex_Talker is not just a writer and poet but also a unique Spoken Word Artiste. He has a Bsc. In Mass Communication and Diploma in Auctioneering

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© 2021 Alex_talker. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/06/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-2688-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-2687-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Chapter 1 In The Begining

Chapter 2 The Flight

Chapter 3 The Fight

Chapter 4 The End Of The Beginning

Chapter 5 I Have Seen The Light

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book firstly to our Maker, Yahweh for the inspiration. I also dedicate this book to my beloved mother, Mrs Gloria Mana Fowowe Bassey of blessed memory for her undying love, support and belief in me. I also dedicate this book to my loving dad Arc. James Bassey and my beloveth sister Bunmi Wisdom.

CHAPTER ONE

IN THE BEGINING

MICHAEL’S HIDEOUT

In the well-furnished and secluded underground hideout that I had made a home, I sit and read my journal.

Michaels’ journal September, 1952.

It is the end of the era of colonialists and rise of freedom fighters. This was when the reign of the white lords over the protectorate was at a brink of collapse. After lots of rallies and bloodshed at what is now called the freedom square, everyone was happy that everything had began to fall in place. We could smell the fine fresh air of freedom once again. It was as if we were rescued from a sinking ship. All the tension and expectations were now aligned. Then all of a sudden the fighters began to drop off the radar. Some went missing, not knowing their whereabouts and others died in suspicious and mysterious ways. Panic and chaos began to set in again. Someone or something was hunting them, sabotaging our heroes and cutting them off before the final hand-over day by the Minister of the Protectorate, Sir Arthur Bernard, to a legitimate leader and indigene.

As was now my custom, I remained in my underground cottage tucked somewhere in the bushes in a local part of town, all this while observing the outside world around me and its many perversions; But this! This one I could not overlook, it kept tugging at my heart. I had to find out, I had to come out of my hibernation and I had to know what was going on. I could not sit back and watch my homeland fall to ruins. So I dust my gear, it is 9:15pm, my black boots in place, fitted black jeans and leather jacket plus my hat. I never leave without my little rosary. It’s been a while since I last got into the fray of things but my instincts never forget the vitals. I leave my hideout with the hope to return.

The wind blows against my face as I brazenly breeze through the bushes on my motor bike, I reminisce on the days when I worked for these white folks in the army. They were very dark days that still hunt me up to this very day, but one thing I did get out of it was money. Therefore I have acquired all these fortune, coupled with a mine of gold sitting literally under my feet at my hideout. Being the best sniper in the region and taking out the leadership of many provinces came with lots of goody rewards. But all such thoughts must stop abruptly as I switch and think of that which I must now do in helping my father land; And the first step through my quest?

There is just one place which I must go and I know it- General Bombata Boko- the head of Intelligence and Admin. We were once friends until I changed for the better and he took a turn for the very worse. Now he is the embodiment of corruption and lives in a well-guarded mansion. The bald round man that looks more like a toad is even more like a stranger to me now. If there is something fishy he was bound to know. As a pastime in my hideout, aside reading the holy book which I stumbled on not too long ago, I made it a duty to study information and documents such as buildings and the city maps which I had gathered while in service. My movement is always painstakingly outlined like that of a chess grand master and strictly adhered to, unless the situation calls for a plan B or C, as the bounty on my head has increased the more over time since I went rogue.

I now know virtually every rout in this city. The City is well outlined and an envy to other provinces, only rivaled or beaten rather by the Southern Region which was built by the white lords, clearly showing their architectural prowess and superiority.

This is where the story of my selfless fight begins. My name is Michael Demessie Sakoto and this is my journal.

Sneaking through the backyard of the mansion, I infuse the air with some vaporized sedative which knocks out all the unsuspecting perimeter guards, I cut out a part of the fence wire and climb in, making it to his room in no time. Bombata sipping on some wine is shocked to see me.

Michael! What a surprise, we thought you were dead.

Yes Boko, dead to those who want me so.

Come on, you know I always had your interests in mind…

As he pours wine into another glass.

I would have been surprised at how one would slip through my guards so easily but then, its’ you we are talking about here…come over, let’s share a drink. A toast to your resurrection, we can call it errrm, yes we’ll say it’s the resurrection of Michael; Michael come forth!

He lets out a sarcastic little giggle.

"Let’s cut the crap gen, I want to know what is happening. Things are no longer going right. Why the killings of our heroes? Your white lords agreed to hand over power to a civilian government, but now almost everyone qualified or fighting for that seat is dead or missing.

Bombata lets out a laugh.

Now my friend, that’s a serious issue. I think you are just being paranoid. Can’t nature take the lives it once gave?

He continues; however, don’t you think a more serious issue on your mind should be the ease with which you have delivered yourself unto me for capture?

General Boko had suddenly become too corrupt and evil hearted. He was only concerned and happy to rise to the top; a fierce military man who was capable of anything.

You know what’s going on, don’t pretend to me Bombata

Or what Mike…?

He leaned forward and spoke in a semi whisper.

…Look, these things happen and things change. Learn to live with that okay; If the whites want to stay a little longer, let them. You can’t change everything. Let things happen, maybe there is a better plan.

Fine then, how about if you tell me this better plan. I know you are greedy and selfish, but you shouldn’t be involved in this. You shouldn’t sell out your homeland, we should defend it instead. This is all we have.

The slimy toad had signaled his security. I could feel the room getting surrounded, but I had carefully planned my escape. Two guards burst in; I dodge their bullets and take them down.

Nice sermon, join me mike and let us tend to this land together and even acquire more. Accept it now while the offer lasts because there’s no escape for you this time.

He continues to sip his wine and laugh. A couple more burst in and my bomb powder comes in handy. A big puff leaves them choking and groping while I fly out of the window. My retractable rope seems to have jammed and in that instance I’m in the air and wondering if this is the end of me. Luckily there was a car and I so conveniently landed on the bonnet. It wasn’t such a pleasant landing, but far more preferable than breaking multiple bones or losing my life by hitting the concrete ground. Before I got to my feet more guards had arrived but somehow missed their shot except for one that bruised my shoulder. I take cover behind the car and pick the guards one by one like sitting ducks, with ninja pellets. I scan the fence for the part where the security fence-wire I had cut and over it I went, once again on my motor bike. This time I am moving fast and not coasting. I try to pick out the details of what he said. Bombata said something about the whites, they agreed to leave, but now they want to stay a little longer. Something was not right. I had to know. The beginning of solving this issue was to find out what exactly is going on before it gets too late and out of hand. I can’t go to the house of the minister of the protectorate, that will be a suicide mission, but I could manage the deputy’s. It is less tight on security and he might have just as much, if not more, information than the minister.

(Gunshots)

Somehow Bombata had become not only a brute, but smarter and had set up security patrols along every route. As I get unto the highway, I hear gun shots and bullets fly past me. Good thing they weren’t sharp shooters, I would have joined my ancestors by now.

They were easy picks anyway, just two bikes and a car. Setting the bike in auto-drive and it is time for my babies to come out and play. I love my little babies and I don’t miss with them. Five shots at their tires and the car skids off the road while the bikes crash into each other. Hoping they did not die, I switch to manual and head to my hideout.

I have realized that there is much work to be done. I have to study the plans for deputy ducks house again. I should find answers there.

BOMBATAS MANSION

Gen Boko is obviously pissed.

Fools! Idiots everywhere, curses! You fools can’t catch just one man. Have you forgotten the prize for his head? Leave me at once. I need to summon the guardian immediately

The GUARDIAN- A mage and master warrior who is rumored to have lived over 150 years. He is said to have seen it all, sold his soul and calls himself the devils favorite demon. The guardian was full of himself and claims never to have failed in any mission.

ELSEWHERE

At an obscure cottage prayer house not far from my hideout in the woods, I kneel at the alter and pray;

The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want, He maketh me lie down in green pastures, He restoreth my soul, He leads me beside the still waters…yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for thou art with me…’

The society has become more evil these days. I now put my trust in the creator and consider myself as the tool for the protection of his people and the punishment of evildoers. Like a lot of people, I was not always a good person from the start. We all have a story to tell; most important is that the end should be better than our beginning. I had a dark

past; many had fallen by my sword and gun. My conviction came suddenly and then I went rogue, fleeing from my superiors and vowing to wipe out as much darkness and injustice as I could. Somehow I felt like the biblical Paul fighting for evil, then turned around for good. Years of training hard made me very lethal and invincible, but there was more to all of this that I was to find out later.

BOMBATA’S MANSION

The Mage arrives and heads to the living room.

Lord Boko

Guardian as he liked to call him. You took so long. There’s a new problem at hand

The Guardian wasn’t much of a talker but had a weird sense of humor.

Sorry my lord, but do not be anxious or fret. What do you request of me?

Hmmm, I thought, well, we all thought one of our major threats was dead but he just paid me a shocking, unpleasant visit

That’s nice, how was the reunion?

Not funny. Mike is back, back from whatever grave he was in and even you cannot pretend to not know of the danger he poses. I need you to set a perimeter around me. I don’t want him getting close

Shall I go detach his head from his neck?

"No guardian, as much as I would love that, it would give me greater pleasure to watch him go down before my very eyes. I know he will be back again. Fortify your guards and

when he comes, put him down and this time make sure he remains in the grave."

Yes lord Boko

While we wait for a second visit, there is someone who should be in the grave now. Send your assistant to clean out the deputy

Done. Replied the Guardian

Bomba’s younger sister Nairobi walks in as the guardian