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Stolen by Soldiers: Chained to War / Chapter 2: Brothers in Chains
Stolen by Soldiers: Chained to War

Stolen by Soldiers: Chained to War

Author: David Mason


Chapter 2: Brothers in Chains

You no go believe say journey fit wicked like that. Na so so hunger, na so so sun, mosquito bite person like say dem get vendetta. For night, you dey hear boys dey cough, dey whisper their mama name. Your body dey hot, but fear no go let you cry out.

You survive because of one big man. The guy different from others. He talk say he go school before and na him volunteer to join army, but nobody know why dem still chain am with una.

The man tall, skin dark like roasted yam peel. E get scar for cheek, e dey carry himself like person wey sabi book. The way e dey talk, e no dey shout. He dey always tap chest before he talk, like say e dey swear truth. Some boys dey call am Teacher, some dey call am "Mallam," but e just dey smile, say all of us na the same for war.

The officer want make he dey do clerk work, say make dem no chain am with una, but the man refuse. He say from now, all of una be brothers, live and die together as una dey fight the enemy. Either all of una chain together, or all of una waka together.

As e talk am, e voice strong, e eye dey shine. Some boys dey nod head, small courage enter body. Even the officer shock. For Naija, na rare thing for person wey get mouth for office to come humble himself with small pikin like you. Some dey look am like say e get juju.

The officer vex, curse am, but still chain am with una. But anytime dem share food, the big man dey always get extra moi-moi.

Dem go give am two wraps, others go dey look. Sometimes dem whisper say maybe e dey spy for the officers, but the way e dey share e food dey different.

He go give you the extra moi-moi. He say you resemble him younger brother.

The first day e give you, your hand dey tremble. You no fit talk, but as you chop, your body calm small. E just look you, smile, nod head like say e dey see old pikin for your face.

He say him younger brother na correct pikin, but wahala come happen—when the boy dey five years old, as he dey run for Sabo market, na soldier motor jam am, kill am.

The story heavy for your ear, but the big man voice soft. E shake head, eye dey far like say e dey look past the sun. For inside war, even grown man dey cry sometimes.

You no really understand wetin he dey talk, but you sabi say the moi-moi sweet well—e too dey smell nice.

As you dey chop am, na like mama hand dey touch your mouth. Hunger commot for your belle small, your mind begin dey steady. Boys around dey jealous, but big man no send anybody.

All of una waka inside rain and sun, watch sun rise, moon set. Sometimes, person go just fall for road, no go stand up again.

Rain soak your skin reach bone. Sometimes, na only thunder go answer your cry. Some boys dey sing small hymn to keep spirit. You dey look sky, dey pray make morning quick come. Even ogogoro no fit cure the wahala.

The officer go just shake him head, talk say the person wey fall get luck—no need suffer again for this wahala.

Some boys dey abuse am under breath, but who go talk am for face? For Naija, suffering na another name for life, but even this one pass story wey elders dey tell for moonlight.

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