Swimming with Lizards

The team of security and health officials dispatched by Mr. Jones had actually set up two booths and began to vaccinate those that decided to get the shots. The lines contained mainly old men and women as all the able bodied men and women had run away after sighting the strange men and women in the market. Those in the line had moved very slowly but very orderly. The villagers they caught on arrival cooperated fully with the health officials. They first went to a table to register their names and put their thumb prints on another paper. Then they moved to the booth where a kerosene stove burned. The needles were roasted over the fire in between vaccination shots. That was what caused the delay.

Meanwhile, Obiechina continued to struggle with the men that had apprehended him. He still did not understand why no other young man was there and also why no one came to his rescue. In the cause of his struggle one of the guards hit him with a baton on the head. A fight ensued between Obiechina and the man. That was how the other three men joined in the struggle and finally subdued him on the ground. They forced his hands behind his back while Jacob, nicknamed Isiokpo because of his large head, ordered one of the security men to handcuff him. Then they stood him up and ordered him to move but Obiechina stood his ground and refused to move. “Will you move?” Jacob sneered. Obiechina stood rooted to the spot demanding to be told his offense. “Someone should tell me the offense I committed. Why are you ordering me to move? And where do you want me to go?”Women and children watched the drama from a safe distance and it was clear they were terrified.

“If you say you will not move peacefully, you will move by force,” Jacob threatened further. Without waiting for a command, three of the men swept him off his feet amid a bull-like struggle. Lifting him was just like lifting a bull or a young elephant.

“My people will you allow them to kill me?” He kicked and shouted as the men began to move him to another uniformed officer hiding somewhere further removed from the scene of the struggle. He fought and kicked like a wounded lion but all was to no avail.

There was a stampede all over the market as women and children ran, thinking they too would be taken to the unknown destination after their vaccination. The plea from the health officials that nothing would happen to them did not help matters. Only the oldest men and women who could not run stayed back.

Isika, one of the oldest men had watched the episode from the beginning to the end. There was nothing he could do. He simply shook his head in disbelief that he could watch the kidnap of a kinsman by unknown strangers and unable to offer any assistance as a result of old age. He remembered how he had led many inter tribal wars in his youth.

“Time changes everything,” he muttered under his breath. He was terrified how age had changed him, “a once revered ferocious warrior now huddled together with old women and children.” He knew where the men were taking Obiechina; to Ugwuokpu yet there was nothing he could do. He wanted to say something to one of the men in the booth administering the vaccination. On second thought he decided to remain silent. It was a matter that would rattle the whole town the moment the news reached home.

“There is no point pinching a package that would be unwrapped,” he comforted himself. Finding nothing to keep him much longer in the market, having been pierced with the hot needles like the other ‘weaklings’ around him, he picked up his walking stick and headed homeward. Obeichina’s cries began to fade as Isika walked further away from the market place and then he heard him no more.

A pre-teenage boy, hiding behind one of the cashew trees emerged when he saw Isika walk by. He hastened his steps and met the old man. Isika heard some steps behind him and turned sharply. He knew the boy had been traumatized by all he had seen that morning. He was one of the boys that ran into hiding when the men arrested Obiechina.

“Who are you my son?” Isika asked him.
“I am Mbene’s son. My name is Osita,” he replied.
“Move ahead. Let me walk behind you,” Isika told the visibly frightened boy
“What did he do?” referring to Obiechina.
“I don’t know my son.”
“I saw everything. I don’t like the one that hit Obi with the stick.”“I saw it too. We live in a new world my son.”
“My hand is hurting me,” the boy said and turned round to show the sign of vaccination to Isika.
“Go ahead my son. I am hurting too. Our people say that a stranger in one’s house should not hurt him and leaving should not develop a hunch back. It appears that the strangers in Umuokika have decided to hurt us. I warned the elders when Ebube began this uncanny dance with Mr. Jones. See where it has landed us.”
“Papa I don’t understand,” the boy said.
“You will not understand my son. We have sold ourselves three for a penny to some strange people who are now defecating and urinating on our heads. If only Ebube had listened to me in the beginning.”