SURVIVORS

CHAPTER THREE

   My hands burned as I picked the burning coals before shoving them close to the firewood. I was using a metal scraped out of an abandoned zinc. The heat from the coals warmed the zinc. I almost slapped myself for forgetting that heat energy could flow through metal.

As I searched for a material resistant to heat, it began to drizzle. Little drops that I was sure would lead to a heavy downpour. Everything here never came in small amounts. If it was sunny, the sun was at its peak. The rain, darkness along with the pain we faced all came at its iceberg.

The familiar scent of water mixed with dust wafted my nostrils. It took forceful will to not succumb to the temptation to pick the dust and lick it. A captive not far away from me was already doing so, he packed some quantity in his palms, spreading his tongue over it. But that wasn't the reason my attention was fixated.

The truck came to halt outside the quarters, we all knew what it brought along. New captives. The guards jumped out of the truck gallantly, the feeling of accomplishment written on their faces.

They forced the frightened captives to come down from the truck. Nudging them with guns and threatening to shoot. Some began crying begging to be taken back. I shook my head, my attention fully in the direction of the truck.

It was always the same process with every new captive, very much similar with the stages of grief. The guards had studied us so well, it was possible to predict any captives next move.

The first feeling a new captive experiences would be disbelief.

The captive would find it difficult to come to terms with the fact they've been kidnapped. They would assume it was a dream they could wake from any second, anything their minds could use as an escapism to ease the reality of being kidnapped.

Next would be fury, they would become furious that their rights as citizens are being denied. That they were treated poorly and infatilized. Anger now replaced fear.

This was when most of the captives would try escaping from the quarters, sadly they would all be caught. I had also tried to escape, twice at that. I have scars made with hot charcoal iron forever reminding me of my actions.

Some would lash out and speak to the guards rudely, at times leading to a fight between a captive and a guard. The guard always won, they always do.

The captive who proposed the fight would later be taught a lesson we wouldn't forget. The other captives will see what was done to one of their own, it would also teach them a lesson to control their anger.

The anger will gradually up in them, but there would be no outlet leading to depression. This was the point most of us committed suicide. Others would cry unendlessly as they carried out their portion of work putting on long faces.
The only words coming out of their mouth would be how unfair, cruel and wicked the world was.

The last phase would be acceptance. The realization that they had no other option than to remain and try surviving would strike each of them hard. Though some won't be able to live till the final stage of acceptance.

It wasn't that they got killed or committed suicide. No, none of that. They weren't just strong enough to cope with the circumstances.

At a point, it would no longer be surprising waking up to see a dead body beside you. No one mourned them, we were forbidden to. Their bodies would later be burnt beyond recognition.

Now, I watched as they were told to line up properly so they could be counted. I wondered how many captives we were in total, I saw new faces almost every day. The stubborn ones refused to line up. That moment, I prayed God would give them the wisdom to quietly line up.

One of the reasons this exercise was conducted was to recognise the stubborn headed ones. They would be separated like wolves from sheep, the peccant captives would then be dealt with till they were filled with remorse and totally obedient.

They didn't know what they were falling prey to.

That was when I first noticed him, he was pushed roughly to the floor. Hands and legs tied with a rag between his teeth, like an animal a hunter had proudly caught.

I wondered what he must had done to be treated that way because the rest had just their hands tied behind their backs. It was clear he had a vehement spirit.

He kicked hard against the guard who held him to the ground and received a resounding slap in return, the back of his head walloped with a stick. I flinched.

He had a really light skin colour, slim with dark hair, part of which was now covered in dust. His dressing sold the fact he must have been headed for somewhere important. His necktie was about pulling off and his suit trousers were torn by the legs.

Danladi shouted an order that he would be incommunicado for the rest of the day. I watched as they blindfolded him using his own neck tie. His back was still on the ground.

They were sharp stones everywhere and I imagined each of them piercing through his flesh as he was pulled roughly on it.

*                            *                                 *                         *

I stopped when I heard the sounds, I recognised the voice. It was Sadiya, one of the most reserved captives.

She barely spoke unless necessary. We had spoken a few times, and those few times, she let me in on some secretive details about herself. Even though she always spoke in a brequivolent manner.

I felt happy and esteemed she was able to confide in me, that I was her only friend in the quarters. I still don't know why she only spoke to me, but it made me feel important.

I knew what was happening. I was tempted to peek through the window but I didn't. She was crying. It seemed like her voice was muffled, almost like it was covered from been too loud.

I had come to give Musa, the guard in the room, who was raping Sadiya the package our matron ordered me to deliver to him.

I debated if I should go back and tell Hajiya Fatima I didn't see him or knock at his door. It was a fortuitous coincidence I came here now.

I weighed my options. If I went back, she would definitely figure out I lied, because it was his turn to be on duty. If I gave him, there was every probability he would include and rape me also. I hated decision making, I've never been good at it.

No one apart from Zahra and Samira knew I had never been sexually abused in the quarters.

It wasn't that I was special or lucky enough, I can't tell. Many times, I would be chosen but they would look at me with disgust and suddenly tell me to go back.

What if, what if It was God's way of letting me know he was still with me?

I said a silent prayer and knocked on the door. Musa growled, Sadiya's cries ceased. I knew he probably ordered her to be quiet.

He opened the door, his expressions clearly annoyed I was disturbing his privacy. He always had a menacing attitude but it never intimidated me.

He hissed when he saw me. Did he think I was also pleased to know he was raping a freind of mine?

"Hajiya Fatima said to give you this." I quickly handed him the package. The feelings of anger and disgust piercing me.

He snatched it roughly, using his hands to feel the contents. I immediately turned to go.

"Where do you think you're going to?" Musa gave me a knowing look.

My feets froze, this couldn't be happening.

"Come in." He ordered with a smirk.