Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Journey from Libya by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren.

He came in through the desert. In the midst of the nothingness, he let go a yawn that took some time to mix with the air. With more grounds to cover and the sun at its peak, he was on the highway to hell. There was no going back for he has seen the worse. He was desperate to get out of the hole.
He saw snakes and scorpions as he made for the town that was still out of sight. The desert is their country and they freely roam the desolate place. Not distracted by the human presence and the commotion his wretched feet caused, the animals engaged in the daily routine that constantly robs them of the weakest. In the desert, death is a sign of weakness and to survive the prey has to die. If there is hope for survival, it is slim for the man who has got no victuals.
As his stomach complained, and hunger stared him in the face, he paused and looked about. He was like a needle in the belly of the deep blue sea. Alone in the company of the animals, he stood akimbo and turned around two or more times to see if he could find something to eat.  His gaze fell on nothingness and frustration hit him with a dreadful sting. If it were in the days of Manna, a miracle could have savaged the situation. God could drop living bread at his feet.
As hope of finding a descent meal looked taller than his legs, he decided to grab his destiny with both hands. He pounced on one of the desert snakes and made a short of it. The snake died after receiving several blows. A determined spirit can conquer all frontiers. He sat on the sand and ate the meal. It was a long hard meal, whose blood could only serve as liquid for the journey man.
Blood and sand, fury and horror, life is no bed of roses. It was good news that the creature died. But its death was an open door of misfortune that only a miracle could shut.
And then he rose to his feet and faced the way to the town. After covering a huge distance, the venom began to react. He fought gallantly to stay on his feet but his pair of legs betrayed him. The venom had grown so tall like an Iroko tree. Not long after, it swept the poor soul off his feet and he landed awkwardly on the sand. He began to slip in and out of consciousness.

As death stared at him from his corridors, he could read the writing on the wall...

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