Chapter 3: Death's Shadow and Small Mercies

You sef fall one time. That night, you wake up go piss, cold catch you. Next day, your body just dey hot anyhow, fever hold you. The officer talk say you no go survive, make dem leave you for roadside.

You dey shiver like agidi for harmattan morning. Even your teeth dey fight each other. Some boys dey pity you, but fear no let dem talk. You think say na like that your spirit go waka.

Wild dogs wey dey road, their eyes red, bark two times like say dem agree with the officer.

One old woman for village don talk am before—say if dog bark for your head that kind way, make you begin pray. Your mind dey jump. You dey see the ground dey far from your eye, but still dey fear reach inside your liver.

The big man no gree. He talk say he fit carry you, beg officer make him pity you, find chemist for you.

E kneel small, voice low but stubborn. For Naija, na only strong man dey beg for pikin wey no be him own. E wipe sweat for face, say make God bear witness.

The officer curse am, say e get problem for head, say person like you no go fit do anything for war front, na just meat for bullet.

Boys laugh small, but na nervous laugh. You dey hear am say "meat for bullet," your heart dey bleed. But big man just stand for your side, e no move.

The big man just look am strong, talk say, "Even if na cannon fodder he go be, e better pass to just die for back like this."

Na so e stand, e no blink. Officer look am, shake head. One boy mutter say "this Mallam head dey shake," but inside e eye, na respect dey grow.

The officer quiet for small time, sigh, then talk, "Okay, carry am. If e still dey breathe when we reach next town, we go find chemist for am."

Na small mercy, but na life and death. Officer talk am like say e dey do you big favour. For road, silence hold everybody. Even the wind pause small.

That day, the road hard well. For the first time, you lie down for the big man back. Na that time you realize, after twenty-seven days of waka, all him strength don finish. As you dey on him back, your bones dey press each other, only wetin you wan do na to cry—just dey cry.

Tears no get shame for war. You dey hear am grumble, e just dey whisper Quran for mouth. Rain dey beat una, sweat mix with rain. You dey hear your own breath dey faint. Na so you hold tight, dey beg God for inside your mind.

That day, una reach one small town. As the big man put you down, you just fall for ground with heavy sound. Before you fit kneel, you don faint.

Your dream dey full of fire and water, old memories and mama voice. You no sabi say dem carry you enter chemist hut, but you feel hand wey dey rub your chest. For that darkness, na big man voice dey guide you back like torchlight.

The officer look una, curse, but still turn back call chemist.

Na miracle for Naija soldier to call chemist for small pikin. The chemist, one old man, the chemist hut smell of bitterleaf and palm oil, raffia mat for door, old transistor radio dey play faint highlife. He smell of herbs, spit kola for ground say "make God run am well." People for town dey gather watch, dey whisper story.