KACHI's DIARY

THE TRAVEL RAVE

After the death of Chinedu,I became more and more fustrated. Everybody seemed to find something wrong with me. No matter how I hard I tried to concentrate at school,images kept flashing through my mind,disturbing memories. I became scared of people because I thought they would try to hurt me,like almost everyone in my life did. Also,at this time I flunked my final year exam in secondary school. I wasn't in the least shaken,my life had practically been full of misfortunes. Father killed me,literally when he saw that I had failed. He burnt my stomach with a hot electric iron. I almost became totally immune to pain, I became immune to love,I became immune to life. Night Lady on the other hand,had just had a miscarriage yet again. Father had beaten her,infact he practiced boxing on her so much that at a time,Night Lady could pass for a Muhammed -Ali-wanna-be. She was no longer scared of father. He hit her,she hit him right back. The Third World war happened right in my house.


He kept throwing things out asking us to leave. Saying we were evil,the cause of his ill luck. After sometime,he stopped throwing out our things he threw us instead.
It was the 15th of March,I will never forget that day. Father came home bitter than usual. He was very drunk and asked us to leave the house,when we tried to resist he brought out his gun. I had never seen my siblings so obedient. In a couple of minutes,we were outside the gate except my older sister,Ifeoma.
It was about 10pm,Night Lady decided we returned to the house. We did. We were at the gate when we heard screams,we all exchanged confused glances then tiptoed into the house. There he was,ontop my sister. That scene scarred me for life. He just kept on even though she was screaming. There was blood all over the place,she was injured. Her arms,spread apart where torn badly,her clothes had obviously been long gone.
Finally,father noticed our presence. He got up from her,by this time Night Lady had already passed out. He turned to us,stark naked and walked away. Then,I became immune to being human. I lost my mind. Ifeoma was still on the bed,she didn't move. I wasn't sure if she was dead. My other siblings were screaming. Anwulika,wiped her eyes,picked a pestle and left the room. In a couple of seconds,we heard the scream of father. We rushed to the other room and we saw him on the floor,blood gushing from his head. Anwulika looked over him,she laughed,she spat on him,she dropped the pestle and walked away. I haven't set eyes on Anwulika till date. At 1am,my favourite sister left my life.

My life had no base anymore. Night Lady was almost crazy. My siblings,I can't even explain what happened to us.
I decided to walk around one evening,maybe clear my mind for a few. I walked for a while when I discovered it was already dusk. I looked at a sign board,my eyes widened. I had walked a very long distance from my house. I distance that I wasn't sure I could walk back. Then the idea of running away hit me. Father did not die as we hoped,running away was definitely a solid idea. So,I started walking faster ahead. I had not gone very far when some boys called me. I was ready to fight,to kill them but they didn't try to hit me. They asked why I was crying,I didn't realize I was crying. I was nineteen,crying about did not exactly pass for sane. I didn't tell then at first,but after they offered me a good meal, words began to spill. I told them everything and I felt alot better. I realized that talking to someone was really helping me.
As if a pin had pricked Benard,as I learnt was the name of one of the boys,he jumped, obviously he had an idea. Finally,the 'idea' was revealed. He suggested I go to Libya with them. As I later learnt,they were planning on going to Libya on Land and they thought it wise I joined them. I did not have to think much to agree. They gave me money to get back home the next day.

I hurriedly packed some of my clothes,some money,pictures and my diaries. I told Night Lady and my siblings of my plans,they did not try to stop me instead they prayed for me admist tears and I was set on my way.

On the 20th of March, The drive from Abuja was
rollercoaster ride along dusty highways and
muddy jungle tracks replete with bumps,
bruises and attempted bribes.
We pick our way through Niger’s Air
mountains, circumventing a mountain
rebellion, increased mountain banditry, and
North African border crackdowns, according to
migrants and smugglers in Niger’s mountain
gateway town of Agadez.
Five hundred kilometres from to Agadez,our truck was waylaid by a group of bandits. My friends and I were not the only ones traveling on the truck. These bandits took every penny we had,food supplies and our clothes. As they drove away leaving a dust filled air,I got teary. I was angry and fustrated at the same time. We did not eat that day.
Somehow,We got to Agadez.
Upon arrival in Agadez, we were greeted by people smugglers. We saw that there was an endless
flow of migrants travelling through Agadez to
Libya and Algeria to find work, earn some
money, and continue onward [to Europe].
Most arrive in Agadez broke, and are forced
to do whatever they can to survive to pay
these agents. We saw a well-organised human- smuggling
operation that “rivalled any travel agency,
except without the signs”.
We stayed a day in Agadez and continued our journey.
On our way into the desert,our truck broke down. It dawned on me that embarking on this trip was a crazy idea.
We continued on foot. We had not walked 10feet from our unfortunate truck when we saw another truck full of migrants hit a mine 40km from the northern
Niger military post of Madama, 1000km from
Agadez. The bodies had already started to decay. I sat on the sand and wept. Certainly,the families of these people had no idea what had happened. These corpses would rotten and be one with the soil,it was only a matter of time.

Tired,hungry and thristy we dragged our foot through the desert. The sun was very intense and there was not one single shade. Benard screamed and jumped up,so did Musa. We turned to them and another traveller screamed,he screamed something about a desert snake. Obviously,the snakes had bitten Benard and Musa. By this time,they were both on the floor. More snakes came out of the sand. We ran,the snakes chased. Another person was bitten and she died. Finally,the snakes stopped chasing. I felt I had almost died. We stopped to catch our breaths. Walking till late at night,We finally saw a little village. We snuck about , found some food and water. Finding a place to sleep was not a problem. As I laid down to sleep,my mind drifted to and fro. I thought about a lot of things-my siblings,Anwulika especially,Night Lady, Father and the girl I had a crush on,Eno. All these thoughts flooded my mind as I dozed off.

Screams woke me. Chaos everywhere. For Pete's sake we were supposed to be hiding! Someone finally talked to me. A traveller had gone missing,actually his body had gone missing. We found his head on his sleeping space,his body had disappeared with the night. Ice cold chills ran through my spine. We all cried,some of us wailed not caring if we were caught or not. We then dragged the body out of sight.
Devastated,We all walked in silence. A traveller decided she could no longer continue despite our words of 'encouragement',her decision had been made.

Finally,We got to Libya. Pretty leaky border.Twenty eight travellers started for the journey,twelve made it. I was sad and making it to Libya alive did not take away this coldness I felt.
Libya was not how I envisioned it to be,I probably should have stayed back in Nigeria. Finding food was a very rare gift,I slept in shacks,bathing was not on the agenda.
Tired and hungry,I literally crawled the streets in search of a job. A car honked,I moved away. It honked again,this time in my direction. I squinted to see where the horn was coming from and I saw someone beckoning on me. I walked towards the person in the huge car,and it was a lady. She smiled at me and asked me to get into the car. The thought that life could not get worse made me step into that car.
In a couple of hours,I had told her my story. She expressed deep sympathy at my fate. She told me about hers. Grace,was a rich widow who is out to 'help' young boys like me. I was glad when we got to her house. It was huge,beautiful and expensive.

It was a matter of months and I had a very good car. Grace was a cougar,a very generous one. Even though she was very demanding and controlling,I did not mind as she gave me more money than I could ask for. She was very hard to please and she continuously reminded me of my poverty. Our relationship,however did not last. It was a rainy Sunday morning,I blew my tops and she asked me to pay every penny she spent on me within three months or she ended me. When she laid that on me,I felt my head running through a thousand thoughts-there is not a possible way I could pay such a huge amount in so little a time. I stormed out of the house,walked to a near by water fall to think. After hours of brain storming,Sako came to mind. Sako,one of the friends I have made since I got here. Sako did all sorts of business,he knew all sorts of people. I then decided telling him of my plight was a good idea. Later that night,I went to see Sako. After I told him all that had happened,he said he could help me if I could sell a certain product. He whispered into my ears,I thought of what he had just said for a while. He said there was little or no risk involved. I agreed,after all it was a one time thing.

The rest of my life happened in a flash. I was supposed to deliver the 'products' at Zimbabwe,and get paid afterwards. I got to Zimbabwe successfully,Happy was I indeed. I was heading for a hotel when some men asked me what was in my bag and I told them it was clothes. The men later informed me they were from the police,my heart skipped lots of beats and tears almost ran down my face. This time,they did not ask as nicely as they did the first time. The forcefully took my bag and over turned it,before their very eyes it fell. The entire content. My throat went dry,I knew it was over for me. In a split second,I had considered many options-suicide,running away,and the likes.
The men did not say another word,they just asked me into their car and I went in without any struggle. Few days later,I was in custody. I was asked to contact my agents and I did. Sako was nowhere to be found,even the people in the area denies having heard of him. Afterwards,the police used me for Kun Fu practice.

Prison was not fun at all and seven years was definitely no joke. Life was hard,but prison was harder. Chikurubi Prisons,Zimbabwe was my new home.
Zimbabwe's prisoners are suffering untold
horrors in Zimbabwe's jails. We were locked up in hell-holes, condemning us to
slow starvation and possible death from
nutrition-related illnesses or the vast array of
other diseases we are exposed to through
unhygienic conditions. Despite terrible
desperation, our position as 'prisoners' means
we are denied the most basic human instinct
and that is to fight for survival: inmates can't
beg for food from passers-by, they can't forage
for wild berries in the bush, and they can't
rummage through dustbins for waste food.
Because of this, Zimbabwe's prisons constitute
a unique and especially cruel form of torture
that has both physical and psychological
impacts on the people affected.
Extreme hunger, inhumane squalid conditions,
exposure to a variety of diseases and stripping
Us of our dignity are standard practices in
Zimbabwe's jails, resulting in shameful misery
hidden away from the public gaze behind high
walls and razor wire.
We were lucky to get one meal. Sometimes we
sleep without. We have moving skeletons,
moving graves. Prisoners were dying each day.
We were given sadza and
matemba (dried fish) boiled in water once every
day in the afternoon, when resources are available. We were given meals not because they wanted to be generous,but because we needed to be alive to do very hard work.
Deaths occurred everyday. The Prison's Cemetery was now full, a special cemetery had to be opened at
Chikurubi Prison Farm to cope with the corpses.
Pellagra is another disease plaguing us in prisons: it results from a deficiency of
vitamin B3 and trypophan, an essential amino
acid found in meat, poultry, fish and eggs. Twenty three inmates died from an outbreak of pellagra, and many more were
ill from the disease. Inmates with weakened immune systems are
especially vulnerable to catching the variety of
diseases in the cells, with their immunity
further compromised by poor nutrition,
unsanitary conditions and by being kept in
close proximity to other sick people.
We were not allowed to wash our clothes,and if you had a blanket you were lucky even if it is lice infected.
When I first got to prison,I was given a uniform with excrement on it and it was torn in It's grouch area letting me almost no form of coverage. As I lay on the concrete shelf, a tiny
creature with a flat grey body fell onto
my leg and I flicked it off into the
darkness below. But another was making
its way downwards and more were
emerging from the cracks between the
bunks and the wall. Gradually, I
realised the entire cell was crawling with
bugs. I pulled my hoodie tight over my
head and tried to ignore them. The
sensation of insects crawling and biting
every inch of my body, together with the
hard concrete bed made trying to sleep
torture.
Inmates on death row were treated worse,they weren't allowed any clothes. They simply walked about stark naked. Sometimes,We were asked to give prisoners who were going for court appearances our uniforms. Yes,it was that bad.

I began to lose my mind. Homosexuality was very rampant as if survival was dependent on it. Once,I was almost anally rapped. It was crazy. I served my jail term obediently and I had three weeks remaining to leave this hell house. I planned on returning to Nigeria.
There weeks came rather slowly and I was released with some money. I breathed freedom and I cried. I felt I had no life,no base,no future. The thought of my family crossed my mind. Anwulika crossed my mind. I smiled to myself,I was indeed lost in this world.

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