Felix Brambaifa's Blog, page 4

Okoro (4)

By Felix Brambaifa


  By the time he returned the night sky had gone dark. He smelled of alcohol and his breath was a murderer in its own right, his eyes were dark as red and his inside cried in rage. He entered without knocking; he looked around at their troubled faces before asking. “Where is she?”  Mama Agnes could feel the foreboding of a terrible outcome; she feared the worse would suddenly break the bridge which had so solidly connected them this past many years and in its chaos spell an eternal doom, not for her daughter but for Okoro whose age alone was a burden weighing too much on his weary shoulders.  “She has not yet returned” It was hard looking into his eyes but she tried.  She saw the lines on his cheek where the tears had earlier touched and she hated her daughter for it. Now more than ever she blamed herself for not becoming the barrier from within even if it meant  her daughter who would have been paraded through the market square a whore, her reason which was designed to see her daughter graduate from the university was now nothing when placed on the scale of moral value, for her conscience was just too bitter and could no longer stand the sight of a man the age of her own elders crying for what he had suffered so much to bring to a taste, which other men were now making  difficult even for him to have access to, though she knew age was now the frustrating factor to the whole arrangement, she still believed that a contract agreed upon was worth honoring..  He had invested so much on her and never before questioned the sanity of his actions until this moment when everything else had taken the ugly and tiring form of nausea. He had refused to bring this chapter of his life to the notice of most of his friends and those who knew were always quick to frown and show their objections and now he knew why.   “What normal man would chose to spend his money on the future of a woman and expect to smile at the end” A friend of his once asked. And it was not long before the two of them became enemies, his friend outraged by the matter would not let sleeping dog lie. He was now alone with nobody to cry to, nobody to understand and nobody to share his grief with, the pains were just too much but he endured, waiting for Agnes to return. He sat on their frontage and waited, for his future wife to come home, to the judgment that would certainly go nowhere.  The time was past eleven before Agnes with her hands filled with fast food eateries returned. She had almost recounted her steps but Okoro was quick to notice her emerging presence.   “Where are you coming from” He asked, for reasons unknown the rage with which he had so waited the return now failed to announce its presence as if Agnes had somehow watered its salt.   She faced him without showing her fear; she knew he was not a man of violence at least not when she was the person involved but she could also tell that her actions were the sort to make violent miracles happen and this frightened her. Okoro was her fool and even at this moment she could see the light of hope still lurking above the darkness.   “I will go inside, drop my things and we shall go to a nice hotel after which I will explain myself” She spoked with authority.    He had wanted to stop her, wanted to make her pay for the disdain and shame her actions had brought upon his old age but he was an old man in love who knewnot the ways of the cunning youths, so like the gentle fool he was he allowed her. For some men the hardship of life, poverty and misfortunes were the only forces that could effortlessly tame them but for Okoro the reverse was the case, he could defile hard times and come out laughing but Agnes that little girl who had once called him Uncle was the force to bend his will and make tears drop, how foolish he was to freely accept the deceit of a woman child.  Her Mother shouted, her voice threatened to bring down the roof, she listened, her face the form of faked remorse and in response to the present query from her Mother all she did was beg for a little piece of quiet.  He was waiting for her, his mind divided by the different possibilities that could have led to the long absence and even though he tried to be objective in his thinking his heart was still not at peace for it was convinced of the ugly fact that Agnes was a terrible cheat with an outrageous sense of adventure which his old heart no matter the circumstance would never find pleasing.   She came out, gave him her purse and cardigan as if nothing ugly had earlier transpired between them with the excuse of going to the bath room and again he was ready to wait. Only a fool can live through another dejavu and not see the similarities and bad itch that made the other unpleasant. He had waited for another thirty minutes and would have continued in his foolishness had Mama Agnes not gone to check the bath rooms. Moments later she was back with a sad report. “Agnes is not there”  He dropped the items to the ground and rushed to the other side of the compound where the bath rooms were situated and was quick to confirm his foolishness. The small gate became his exit as he ran outside, straight into the busy streets in search of Agnes.

Okoro (3)

   By Felix Brambaifa
  He sneezed and his eyes watered. She looked at him and could see the old days, when men worshiped her services and were ready to pay so their heads could become heavy and lazy to think properly. But like every other human endeavor with a life span the Shop suddenly became a thing of the past. Okoro was there for them; his presence was treated like word from heaven and he blessed them with every visit. It was a responsibility he gladly answered to and she had come  to depend more on Okoro to bring sustenance. Her husband was the useless sort lost to alcohol and it did not matter to him that his daughter at the time of the agreement was been sent into a marriage contract, instead in celebration he stayed out the entire night, bathing in the Jacuzzi of inebriation.   As a Mother she was quick to see the changes. The boys came, the men came and no matter how she talked, Agnes already too in love with material things would without worry give herself to them. The rumors became viral and the sordid details of her sexual adventures could no longer be concealed and so became news for those with ears for such things.    “He is an old man” She had shouted once when her mother became too much of a pest to handle.  Mama Agnes in her best efforts had tried to bring Agnes to her senses but to no avail. She would not listen to her. No matter how she designed the questions Agnes was there with answers, it was as if she had no conscience and her Mother had felt more confused than ever.   “I will pay him back one day” Agnes had said without pity for Okoro nor the mature mind that would have appreciated his sweats, money spent, time soon to become wasted waiting for a deserved reward which must now dishonor her contract even if it simply meant another five years of life tending to an old man who might either go blind or suffer from stroke in the near future.   She could have long since ended the agreement but each time she brought the matter before Okoro, without giving full ears to her explanations would defend Agnes. She had become  the one the two of them were so quick to disagree with but still her sympathy for Okoro blamed her for not protecting the man who had suffered so much keeping her family afloat. A man who had come to hate reality, covering up for the obvious display of disregard with “She is just a child”  Time was moving fast and the hours by the minutes were getting more pregnant and Okoro was no longer himself. She wanted to tell him but was afraid, but how could she tell him that Agnes had never been interested in him but greedily had placed before herself the sinful task of  taking from him as much as could be extracted from his large purse.   He stood up, unable to continue with the moment in peace. At that same instant that lad who had called Agnes to her visitor returned, a small nylon bag held his goodies for him.  “Mama Look at what Aunty Agnes’s friend bought for me” He said, his white teeth displaying his innocence. “She told me she will marry him and he promised to buy me ice cream whenever he comes visiting. He has a car, a big one”  She could say nothing but look at her ignorant child even though she had badly wanted to squeeze that mouth. She tried but it was too late as Okoro in anger dashed out of the house, shouting Agnes! Agnes! As if a simple shout of anger would dissuade the inevitable from touching the theater of dramatized facts which old men like himself would quickly find disturbing and probably die from.

Okoro (3)

   By Felix Brambaifa
  He sneezed and his eyes watered. She looked at him and could see the old days, when men worshiped her services and were ready to pay so their heads could become heavy and lazy to think properly. But like every other human endeavor with a life span the Shop suddenly became a thing of the past. Okoro was there for them; his presence was treated like word from heaven and he blessed them with every visit. It was a responsibility he gladly answered to and she had come  to depend more on Okoro to bring sustenance. Her husband was the useless sort lost to alcohol and it did not matter to him that his daughter at the time of the agreement was been sent into a marriage contract, instead in celebration he stayed out the entire night, bathing in the Jacuzzi of inebriation.   As a Mother she was quick to see the changes. The boys came, the men came and no matter how she talked, Agnes already too in love with material things would without worry give herself to them. The rumors became viral and the sordid details of her sexual adventures could no longer be concealed and so became news for those with ears for such things.    “He is an old man” She had shouted once when her mother became too much of a pest to handle.  Mama Agnes in her best efforts had tried to bring Agnes to her senses but to no avail. She would not listen to her. No matter how she designed the questions Agnes was there with answers, it was as if she had no conscience and her Mother had felt more confused than ever.   “I will pay him back one day” Agnes had said without pity for Okoro nor the mature mind that would have appreciated his sweats, money spent, time soon to become wasted waiting for a deserved reward which must now dishonor her contract even if it simply meant another five years of life tending to an old man who might either go blind or suffer from stroke in the near future.   She could have long since ended the agreement but each time she brought the matter before Okoro, without giving full ears to her explanations would defend Agnes. She had become  the one the two of them were so quick to disagree with but still her sympathy for Okoro blamed her for not protecting the man who had suffered so much keeping her family afloat. A man who had come to hate reality, covering up for the obvious display of disregard with “She is just a child”  Time was moving fast and the hours by the minutes were getting more pregnant and Okoro was no longer himself. She wanted to tell him but was afraid, but how could she tell him that Agnes had never been interested in him but greedily had placed before herself the sinful task of  taking from him as much as could be extracted from his large purse.   He stood up, unable to continue with the moment in peace. At that same instant that lad who had called Agnes to her visitor returned, a small nylon bag held his goodies for him.  “Mama Look at what Aunty Agnes’s friend bought for me” He said, his white teeth displaying his innocence. “She told me she will marry him and he promised to buy me ice cream whenever he comes visiting. He has a car, a big one”  She could say nothing but look at her ignorant child even though she had badly wanted to squeeze that mouth. She tried but it was too late as Okoro in anger dashed out of the house, shouting Agnes! Agnes! As if a simple shout of anger would dissuade the inevitable from touching the theater of dramatized facts which old men like himself would quickly find disturbing and probably die from.

Okoro (2)

  By Felix Brambaifa  He had waited for too long, she had been gone for almost an hour and it dampened his mood. She had grown big and beautiful and it was not strange admirers would come in their drove. He was happy to see the changes but hated the discomforts that came with it. He was angry.  Back then he was way younger than the picture of the present. He had gone to visit a friend and the friend in turn was the one who carried him to the SHOP. The SHOP at this time was in its happiest as men in their numbers paid constant homage to its door front, it made many men loose their heads more than anything in the world and alcohol was the snare they all fell into. It was here his eyes fell on little Agnes, then a small girl without the slightest inkling of what she had on her little frame. She was part of the reasons these men came in their large numbers, they all wanted to feel Agnes.  But Okoro was a man who knew how to get the things he needed in life. How he went about it was unknown but at the end of the meeting an agreement was reached and Agnes the little girl blessed with the body of an adult became the responsibility of Okoro. Her every expenditure became his concern; he paid from his purse and smiled afterwards, not even ready to caution her excesses. He became the Santa of the liquor house and all were made happy. Okoro loved his new responsibility and he poured money into his new project with  a righteous heart as if the money were been channeled into a cathedral for God. From her secondary education to her University, he took charge and was the donkey too burdened to complain.   In due time she migrated into the fields of higher learning. He was there to foot the bills and roof her material taste. Years brought them closer and the words of feelings conveyed through letters became constant.     He had sent words in advance; his coming was to be treated with complete regard and his presence met with the love his heart had envisioned and labored for but instead, his coming was met with grief, for though he had searched, enlisted the help of others in that search, it was in futility that their efforts was destined. in shame he begged for the path back home, for now he knew she had deliberately avoided his presence in a university ground that seemed too out of place for his age.   Life had brought many women to his bed; his money had negotiated for the best and he was always there to enjoy himself when women were the appetizers, their warmth was his pride and he did all to enjoy his consumers right. But since that day when his agreement became law, when he took over the responsibility of another man and called it love, with free will before his very consciousness he went after foolishness and opted to wear on the sweat of celibacy for a girl too young to be mature. From that day of the agreement he had come to see and feel pains only imagined but still he continued, hoping. Pains too bad for his aging heart and shame too insulting for his gray hair became the constant pranks from Agnes. He was now the beast and his age was the fault and Agnes the beauty was not at all the sort to become too romantic to the extent of falling, even when the beast had been her greatest help. The house was now as uncomfortable as it should be for any eyes that must have seen its mother's own nakedness in the open. The laughter had long faded away and they sat in silence.  “I want her now, I can no longer wait” He cried out.  “Agnes will be back soon and we will put the matter down” Mama Agnes answered.

Okoro (2)

  By Felix Brambaifa  He had waited for too long, she had been gone for almost an hour and it dampened his mood. She had grown big and beautiful and it was not strange admirers would come in their drove. He was happy to see the changes but hated the discomforts that came with it. He was angry.  Back then he was way younger than the picture of the present. He had gone to visit a friend and the friend in turn was the one who carried him to the SHOP. The SHOP at this time was in its happiest as men in their numbers paid constant homage to its door front, it made many men loose their heads more than anything in the world and alcohol was the snare they all fell into. It was here his eyes fell on little Agnes, then a small girl without the slightest inkling of what she had on her little frame. She was part of the reasons these men came in their large numbers, they all wanted to feel Agnes.  But Okoro was a man who knew how to get the things he needed in life. How he went about it was unknown but at the end of the meeting an agreement was reached and Agnes the little girl blessed with the body of an adult became the responsibility of Okoro. Her every expenditure became his concern; he paid from his purse and smiled afterwards, not even ready to caution her excesses. He became the Santa of the liquor house and all were made happy. Okoro loved his new responsibility and he poured money into his new project with  a righteous heart as if the money were been channeled into a cathedral for God. From her secondary education to her University, he took charge and was the donkey too burdened to complain.   In due time she migrated into the fields of higher learning. He was there to foot the bills and roof her material taste. Years brought them closer and the words of feelings conveyed through letters became constant.     He had sent words in advance; his coming was to be treated with complete regard and his presence met with the love his heart had envisioned and labored for but instead, his coming was met with grief, for though he had searched, enlisted the help of others in that search, it was in futility that their efforts was destined. in shame he begged for the path back home, for now he knew she had deliberately avoided his presence in a university ground that seemed too out of place for his age.   Life had brought many women to his bed; his money had negotiated for the best and he was always there to enjoy himself when women were the appetizers, their warmth was his pride and he did all to enjoy his consumers right. But since that day when his agreement became law, when he took over the responsibility of another man and called it love, with free will before his very consciousness he went after foolishness and opted to wear on the sweat of celibacy for a girl too young to be mature. From that day of the agreement he had come to see and feel pains only imagined but still he continued, hoping. Pains too bad for his aging heart and shame too insulting for his gray hair became the constant pranks from Agnes. He was now the beast and his age was the fault and Agnes the beauty was not at all the sort to become too romantic to the extent of falling, even when the beast had been her greatest help. The house was now as uncomfortable as it should be for any eyes that must have seen its mother's own nakedness in the open. The laughter had long faded away and they sat in silence.  “I want her now, I can no longer wait” He cried out.  “Agnes will be back soon and we will put the matter down” Mama Agnes answered.

Okoro (1)

By Felix Brambaifa
He was merry,his blood boiling hot and he rubbed hands in sweet expectation.The women welcomed him. He sat down feeling important, his eyes was constantly fixed on Agnes who had long rushed to his side since his arrival. She smiled and talked little but in all she showed the very signals of excitement that he had hoped and expected.    He was a man fully aware of the ways of women and so had not come empty handed; a polythene bag filled with beverages and bottles of sealed refreshment spoke on his behalf. He understood things, they discussed, and they laughed. Then the little brother of Agnes with sense ripe enough to stage a domestic coup entered. He was still angry with his elder sister who had returned from school without the usual gifts that was the ritual but yet he spoke.“Sister you have a visitor” He said“Tell the person to come in” Okoro would not wait for her to answer as he asserted his authority.  “I think it is better I meet the person outside, I will be back” Protested Agnes.   She was afraid of the possible outcome and so she spoke with caution. She went outside and there the visitor stood smiling, she smiled back, unable to contain her excitement.  The two of them had met some three months ago. He was handsome, she was beautiful and the attraction came from both sides. They began seeing each other and the rest was history as they took the strides, crossed the boundaries and as some would say fell in love  “Hi” He said with obvious affection. “What are you doing here?” She whispered, her voice down to the barest minimum as if her voice might upset some invincible presence. She moved closer before again asking. “I hope you are ready to take me out?”


  He nodded, held her hands and dragged her outside. At that moment it became possible not to fear nor think about Okoro.

Okoro (1)

He was merry,his blood boiling hot and he rubbed hands in sweet expectation.The women welcomed him. He sat down feeling important, his eyes was constantly fixed on Agnes who had long rushed to his side since his arrival. She smiled and talked little but in all she showed the very signals of excitement that he had hoped and expected.    He was a man fully aware of the ways of women and so had not come empty handed; a polythene bag filled with beverages and bottles of sealed refreshment spoke on his behalf. He understood things, they discussed, and they laughed. Then the little brother of Agnes with sense ripe enough to stage a domestic coup entered. He was still angry with his elder sister who had returned from school without the usual gifts that was the ritual but yet he spoke.“Sister you have a visitor” He said“Tell the person to come in” Okoro would not wait for her to answer as he asserted his authority.  “I think it is better I meet the person outside, I will be back” Protested Agnes.   She was afraid of the possible outcome and so she spoke with caution. She went outside and there the visitor stood smiling, she smiled back, unable to contain her excitement.  The two of them had met some three months ago. He was handsome, she was beautiful and the attraction came from both sides. They began seeing each other and the rest was history as they took the strides, crossed the boundaries and as some would say fell in love  “Hi” He said with obvious affection. “What are you doing here?” She whispered, her voice down to the barest minimum as if her voice might upset some invincible presence. She moved closer before again asking. “I hope you are ready to take me out?”


  He nodded, held her hands and dragged her outside. At that moment it became possible not to fear nor think about Okoro.

Miserable

Felix Brambaifa
The cry of the miserableIs like the whispers in a waste landIts strength determine, but feebleAnd so hope is impossible to find
There, exists only the feel of desolationOf the kind, akin only to despairThe will to survive clouded in confusionFor the agony of loneliness brings fear
The shadow of abandonment looms tallLike the darkness that precedes deaths handWhen its purpose must enforce the spiritual fallInto a realm, where all fates be bound

Miserable

Felix Brambaifa
The cry of the miserableIs like the whispers in a waste landIts strength determine, but feebleAnd so hope is impossible to find
There, exists only the feel of desolationOf the kind, akin only to despairThe will to survive clouded in confusionFor the agony of loneliness brings fear
The shadow of abandonment looms tallLike the darkness that precedes deaths handWhen its purpose must enforce the spiritual fallInto a realm, where all fates be bound

Love Embrace

By Felix Brambaifa
I will wrap you in warm embraceAnd evoke emotions in pleasurable waysTo make each moment a tale of its ownTo prove that love can sometimes be written on stone
Together our chapters shall break boundsTransgressing beyond limits and confinesTo speak for itself where love is no moreErupting the amorous waters in that arid shore
The whispers shall make rumors spreadOur details, its flame through gossips be fedAs if it were the endemic fires of cholerasAsked to abate, not by potions but prayers
Surely our fame shall linger through timeAnd become pleasing like natures rhymeAll because your love charitably was forgedAnd my hearts reciprocity could not be grudged