No Coincidence. Time ticked. Cold air entered. I
rushed to window. It was the
source of my trembling. I was
about closing the window
when I saw something moved.
Normally, I shouldn’t have seen such thing because of
my bad eyesight. However, I
was sure the sight in front of
me was indeed true. My heart
suddenly had volcanic
eruption of joy. I rushed out of my room. I opened the door and saw him
in front of the door. I knew I
was tall but I never imagined it
could be this intimidating. I felt
it also. He looked at me with
tears in his eyes. I felt like hugging him. It looked as if I
had not seen anyone as
handsome in my life. It looked
as though I had known him all
my life. It looked as if I didn’t
just meet him three weeks ago. If he had met me three days
before that day, maybe I won’t
be telling this story today.
However, I came across
some books that changed my
perspective about life. And changed my habit.
‘Will you come inside?’ I said.
He smiled, the light from my
bulb shone on his face. He
was indeed handsome. I saw
two moon build up on his cheek. What was wrong with
me? This wasn’t right.
‘No.’ If joy were our source of life, I
would have died immediately.
He handed a wrapped cloth to
me. I untied it. It was my book,
the one I gave him. He looked
down. ‘Thank you ma. Thank you
very much. I will forever adore
you’.
‘Nah! Adore Karo Oforofuo’.
‘No. You were my saviour not
Karo. If you had not been reading that day. I wouldn’t be
here’.
‘ I didn’t change you’. He hurriedly took my hand and
kissed it. Butterfly danced in
my belly. At that time, I wished
I were born some six years
before. I would have done
something to be his girlfriend. Maybe he would have had the
confidence to ask me to be his
girlfriend.
‘I only came to return this book
and hoped to get another’. ‘Yes, you’ll get another’, I said
and ran inside.
I had many of them for years
but refused to read any of
them until I read a book by one
Nigerian-Writers-Hub’s authors, Peju Amadi. I had
become so enthralled by their
books. I became so
engrossed in their publishing
house that I had to get books
written by all their authors. And luckily for me, they don’t write
only fiction. I hurriedly returned to meet
him holding himself in the cold.
I brought the book, and a
basket of food.
‘Not today again’.
‘What?’ I said, perplexed. ‘This?’ He said pointing the
basket at me. ‘You should stop
giving me these. Let me start
fending for myself’.
‘You’ll do that soon. But now, I
don’t want you to be dissuaded by anything. Jesus
himself loves you and he is
expressing this love through
me to you.’
He nodded.’ Thank you ma’. I hesitated a bit, but had to
change my mind. I ruffled his
head. He smiled and kissed
my hand. I know I was in love
with a criminal, who was by far
younger than I am. And I had aided and abetted him. But
there was nothing I could do. I
just couldn’t start judging for
their yesterday, so says one
of the books I read. Moreover, I didn’t aid and abet
him. I just prevented him from
making a decision that would
have been the cause of world
trouble. Yet, not I but the book
he read. That blessed day, which would
have presented itself as
unblessed, I was sitting in one
of those Lagos BRT bus. I
mean those long coastal. And
I was engrossed in a book, where she was talking about
how she and a team of
determined fellow changed the
face of book in Nigeria. I was
so much into the book and I
would have remained so had I not heard a stifled cry. I looked up from the book to
see a young man beside me. I
knew he was there, but I didn’t
take cognisance of him. I
silently remanded myself for
such stupidity. If I remembered vividly, The
Celestine Prophecy said it
wasn’t coincidental that people
meet. It wasn’t coincidental for
people to seat together in a
car. I looked at him. Normally, I
would have cringed at the way
he looked. I would have
wondered and hated the way
he dressed. I was one of
those few people who hated those people wearing Muslim
cloths, jalamiha. It nauseated
me.
‘Brother, what’s wrong?’
‘I am wrong’.
I nodded. ‘I was reading your book with
you. I am wrong.’
I nodded again. He cried.
People looked at me. I felt like
telling them to take their eyes
away, That I wasn’t the one crying. I looked at them,
especially the ones who
stared at him and knew I had
to do something to stop him
being disgraced. I touched
him. He jumped as though my hand was rigged with
electricity.
‘Don’t touch me’ He shouted
and stood. We were in a traffic
jam. That day was a special
day for Nigeria. Nigeria was hosting the president of two
countries- America and
Russia. The security was tight.
Our bus was at the front.
People had been shouting
since but I wasn’t concerned. H moved out of the bus and
ran out of the car. ; Hey… Hey your phone’ I
shouted after him. He didn’t
turn back. There was
something wrong. And I don’t
mind going late to my place of
work because of him. After all, the convoy was delaying us. I
ran after him. He sped on.
Police were everywhere and
looked as though they were
machines who would shoot
anyone that moved. Mopols and soldiers looked as though
they were gun machines, as if
they had no feeling. But I
couldn’t wait to watch them
because I had to catch up with
this guy. He was younger than I am and was faster. I ran on.
I must catch him. And I did but
not until I discovered we were
in a very secluded place. He
bent and cried. I moved
nearer. He seemed not to notice my presence. I
swallowed. ‘Leave me alone’.
‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘I said leave me alone’.
‘Tell me, what’s wrong with
you?’
‘Just leave me alone. Leave me alone’. I felt awkward. He was right. I
was supposed to be at my
place of work. I looked around
and saw how secluded that
place was. It was as if I was
thrown into the bottom less pit. Hairs raised on my body.
‘Take your phone’. I said,
extending it at him. ‘Leave me alone. I don’t want.’
He shouted and moved away.
I was scared. This boy was
having some problem. I can’t
just leave alone. I couldn’t. His
face was ruffled with fear. He limped. The phone rang. He ran to me.
I thought he was expecting a
call so I extended my hand
towards him.
‘Take. Take it’ I said and
raised my gown as he splashed muds from the
previous day’s rain. He hurriedly removed the
battery and threw the phone
on the wall. I shifted back. My
heart pumped faster.
‘What’s happening?’
‘I wanted to kill them all. I was stupid. It wasn’t their fault’.
I nodded. Normally, I wold
have asked him questions but
I had read that men don’t like
to be interrupted when talking. ‘The plan was going on well
until I met you. I was also
reading the book you were
reading with you’.
I nodded again. Questions
poured from my heart. I wanted to know to know many
things at once. But I held them
back. ‘The book… The book
changed my heart’. He bent
and started removing the cloth
he wore. I moved back. What
was wrong with him?
Then he removed it. He wore a black vest that had so many
cans attached to it.
‘What’s that?’ I said, pointing. ‘These are bombs. Bombs. It
was meant to destroy many
things. It was meant to kill
American government. I
wanted someone to pay for
what Bokoharam did to my parent. They could have
helped. They left Nigeria
Government to face the
trouble alone.’ Questions rocked my mind.
‘Bomb….’ I said. My inner
organs trembled. I moved
back. This was death in front
of me.
‘Can you disarm it’. He nodded. He did. I stood
perplexed as he did all.
‘I know you’ll call the police’.
I shook my head. ‘We won’t
tell the police. Let’s go to my
house. You didn’t do it. You only planned to do it.’
He looked at me as if I was
lying.
‘Can you give me that book? I
can’t follow you but I love to
read that book again’. I nodded and gave him the
book. I didn’t know what I was
doing but I wrote my address
on it, And he left. From then he
had returned the book to me
and head gotten access to more but he refused to sleep
in my place because he was
afraid the people that
entrusted him with the job
would come for him because
he failed. Tonight, I laid to bed, as I
knew I had change somebody.
He’s one out of many, and
changing him had saved so
many soul. I had change a
world. He had started rounding up guys that are also other
problems and had started
teaching them to love
themselves and stop blaming
the world. He thought them
that for them to change the world, they must change
themselves. I have change the
world. A book had changed
the world. I slept with joy.
