Friday, March 22, 2013

Short Story: This Country Sef! 1

'This country sef,' Emeka mumbled to himself, in a voice that sounds broken. He sat down on a piece of wood that was at the exterior of their one room apartment. And by 'their', it should be noted with a smack of resentment that Emeka harboured the apartment with his parents and two siblings. As he leaned on the seat, responding to greetings from children arriving from school, he gazed into thin air. Life had not played a fair game with Emeka. Seven years after the burdensome NYSC, his search for a job has proved abortive at best, and futile at the least. Broken promises has been his lot, and the trouble of having a sublime talent, without an adequate connection with the 'privileged', has been his albatross. The past half a decade has seen the first class Emeka attended beyond twenty interviews, but at every trail, hard luck has always attended to him. The indignity of still sleeping in that one room apartment often ached his heart. His frustration flowed lavishly at all times, causing him to weep a gallon-full of tears. He was not lazy in any sense of the word, but his nation, with all her bickerings has rescinded him to ill luck. As he continued to gaze into nothingness, his thoughts were returned by the walking steps of his siblings, Nkechi and Kelechi, who were both returning from school. They were walking into the compound, that for want of a better word should be described as an epicentre of a market place. 'So you can't greet?' Emeka angrily asked Nkechi. 'Or didn't you see me?' He queried as if the first question was not enough to elicit an answer. 'Is not by force na,' Nkechi angrily and bravely responded. 'Abi o,' Kelechi added and snarled in support as they both walked into the house. It was at this point that Emeka's anguish knew no bounds. As if the trauma of idleness was not enough, the spite of dishonour had know set in. His ration of meal at the house significantly reduced. His parents scorned him persistently, and his siblings will disrespect him at will. The debacle had now approached a crescendo, that he was force to do the unthinkable.

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