WOVEN

My eyes are filled with debris from a different land. Although I drove in an Ac armoured car, by the morning my eye had secreted dust and dirt screened through my cornea. Tears of sight I had pretended not to see mixed up with lives I deliberately refused to talk about, because why, it wasn't my land, they were not my people.

My wife had stood at the door instructing me to remove my shoes as not to get the southern soil into the newly installed perfectly polished mable, waxed to my satisfaction.
I took off my shoes 5feet away from the door. My daughter brought another one my feet could gain passage with. With the briefest of hugs, she ran to pick up my shoes ignoring her mothers warning to leave the shoe,

who knows where it had been!? she said out loud.

Precious, my daughter, the little Geologist exclaimed;

dad, this is just what I needed for my science project, the consistency is just right, how did you know what to get me dad?

She squeezed me this time in a tight hug. As I bent to give her a kiss on her pulled up hair and bare face, to begin to tell her how much I love her, she jumps,-

of course! I have to check the soil content, mineral component, retaining capacity.. Her voice trailed off.

I smile at the trail of the sound of her voice as she rounded the corner.

They cut me like a whip, the whisp of her voice remained with me and I wondered what had happened to me.

A lot of people wondered who she gets it from, the zeal,the persistence, how she never lets anything go without getting to the end of it. She was often referred to the DOTI - Defender Of The Innocent.

She had the solid strength of a grown mind. She reminded me of myself. Her mother, my wife says she’s strong headed. I used to be like that.

Used to.

It cuts me deep that I lost that quality, life happened, I have a family now, they were the ones I was responsible to.
My wife is staring at me with her big eyes, she stood just beside the sink. I knew she expected some form of approval for her choice in picking out the prolecian sink which was a matching contrast to the wall and ground tiles. It was maroon in color surrounded by off white tiles like the herdsman who got splashed on by the victim he struck on the torso.

I can change it if you don't like it, no need to pass out,

Remi said, she looked distraught. I could only imagine what my face looked like. I remove both hands from my pocket and pulled her close with my right while I ran the other through her hair. Usually she would ask me to wash my hands before any contact but she was engrossed by the fact I hadn’t verbally approved the wash sink and I guess my countenance wasn’t helping. How do I tell her it looked like a collection of the blood of the innocent? She’d probably think me under a spell and would begin panicking, I kiss her on the head, letting my stubble rest, she really was just a pretty head. She retreated and with a forced glee announcing my two favorite soup had been prepared ; Oha and Afang, which did I want first.
I shook my head as I washed my hands, People where dying, the vegetables were probably blood grown.

I could see the long machete raised and glazing in the midday sun, silver and shining, the next time it came back up, it was a glistering red.

Musa! Musa!!

Remi was shaking me,

You keep tossing and turning. What's the matter? Is the mattress too hard? Or are you hot? You are really sweating.

She reaches to the side of the bed and slides the touch pad to reduce the temperature in the room.

If only she knew what was bothering me.
I thought I had blocked out the view of the previous day but it kept replaying in my head and in my dreams. The dreams were always the same. It started off with Cows knocking down fences and trampling on crops, they were always so many, and in a rush. They never stopped to eat but just marched on as though automated, they didn’t stop at the farms, they moved into the villages causing stampedes. There was so much confusion, all the villagers could do was run for their lives in the opposite direction where they got cornered by the herdsmen who were thrilled by the terror on their faces as they let out their chant releasing their weapon on the terrified humans.

I could feel the terror too, the first night, they had called out to me but by the third night, they looked at me with disdain, tonight they didn’t even acknowledge my presence safely hidden in the well armored Range Rover sandwiched by two bullet proof cars, and a law enforcement escort car. Arrangements had been made to enable stress free passage.

It’s the fourth night since that day, I was determined to put all I had seen away, I shouldn’t be bothered, they were not my people. It wasn’t my land.

Knock Knock 
Who’s there? 
Fulani….

(to be continued…)