AIRBORNE...

I was asleep

And suddenly I wasn't

I must either be floating or flying

But surely I was in the air

Soaring in the morning skies 

My flight took me to a market square

So much hustling and bustling

At the north end of the market

I saw a crowd gathered

At the centre of the crowd

A young boy,eight perhaps 

Was being beaten by an elderly man

Some in the crowd shouted 'Amosu!'

Others screamed 'Witch!'

The young boy's pleas fell on deaf ears

I tried to land but my body couldn't move

It seemed I have been cursed only to watch 

He was beaten till he collapsed

And the crowd dispersed

I shook my head in dismay 

I made a brief stop at a crusade ground

The cacophony of voices

With intermittent shouts of 'Amen!'

Almost drowned the preacher's voice

There,just beside the pulpit lay a young girl

She couldn't be more than nine 

'Wicked marine spirit,Come out!'the Preacher ordered.

And the congregation,facing the girl

Cast and bound the evil spirit

I looked at the little girl

The tears in her eyes could not hide her confusion

She just lay there, sobbing 

Suddenly I found myself in the operating room, surgical knife in hand

I tried to shout but no sound emanated

The facemask pressed on my nose and mouth

I turned and saw my Consultant fully gowned

A pregnant woman lay on the table

'Prolonged obstructed labour,'he said 'No fetal heart tone.Cut,I'll assist'

We brought out a fresh stillbirth 

In an instant I found myself in the ward

Consoling the woman

'Doctor,I want to show you something'

She unwrapped the body of her dead baby

'See this?' she pointed at a scar on the baby's forehead

'I did this to him the last time he came' 

'He is Ogbanje'

I just stood there, mouth agape 

As I turned to look at the woman

She was no longer there

I looked around me

I saw only empty space

As I looked down

I saw a cluster of buildings with roads in between 

I was airborne

EDUCATION.

Uche silently approached the black jeep in the middle of the convoy. With his tray of bread on his head and his mind at full alert, he knew he had barely 30 seconds before the traffic begins to move. He has been waiting for this moment for months but now, his legs felt heavy. 

Still, he dragged himself to the owner's side of the vehicle and rapped on the tinted glass. The glass was wound down and for the first time, he came face to face with the Senator. 

With a shaky voice, he began to ask the questions he had rehearsed for so long.
"Tell me why I cannot go to school? Tell me why I am carrying bread and not books? Tell me why you are not helping me?..."

Three things happened simultaneously. Two strong hands pulled him forcefully away from the jeep displacing his tray of bread. A hot slap from one of mobile policemen sent him reeling on the ground and the echo of his clanging tray resonated in his ears. 

When he stood up from the side of the road, he noticed the convoy had stopped few metres away. He saw some men in suits motioning him to come. As he approached, he heard the Senator admonishing one of his mobile policemen. The door of the jeep was open now. He could still see the pallor on the Senator's face.

"Young boy, who are you and what were you saying back there?" the Senator queried.
"I'm just a Nigerian boy fed up with the system," Uche began. 

"I lost my parents in a car crash a year ago and started selling bread to stay alive. I've been thrown out of school. There are ten bread hawkers aged between 7 and 15 along this road. I am the oldest and I try to give them hope, to make them believe that their country has not forgotten them. But it is becoming so hard."

He broke down into sobs.

"You tell us day and night that we are the leaders of tomorrow. We just want to know your efforts to end our sorrow."

By now Uche was crying profusely. He felt a nudge on his arm and turned to see all his friends, trays on their heads standing beside him... Dele, Obi, Ije, Efe, Muyiwa, Junior, Ada, Oluchi and Ade. They had watched everything and have come to show their support. Uche smiled.

"Ok. Children," began the Senator," I'll give my message to Uche here."

He gave Uche his card. 

"Just call me." 

He reached into his agbada and brought out some money.

"For your tray of bread that fell."

Uche paused to look at the crowd. 

"That is my story. This is the legacy of the man we've all gathered to celebrate. The seeds he planted twenty-five years ago have borne so much fruit. I am a serving Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
Dele, Junior and Muyiwa are currently Medical doctors. Obi and Efe are lawyers. Ije is an aeronautical engineer with NASA. Ada is finishing her doctorate degree programme in Havard. Oluchi and Ade are accomplished bankers.
We would have remained bread hawkers if not for this man. He is gone, but his spirit will remain with us. We are his legacy. May his gentle soul rest in peace."