EPILOGUE

The heavens soon opened up as torrents hammered the land of Umunze, drowning the wailing sounds that rented the air from all corners. It was like Heaven wanted to wash the land clean of the abomination that just took place.

They say men do not cry, but Mazi Egbelu had no control over the tears that misted his eyes and trickled down his cheek. With his body numb and mind blank, he sat and watched as fellow women struggled to hold down his wife, who was beyond herself with grief and threatened to commit suicide and join her daughter in death. Cupping his head in his palms, he bowed down in shame with a deep sigh. He had failed his family and community; he had failed himself.

Father Jude came in and sat beside him, barely acknowledging the distraught voices that greeted him. He was bereft of words for consolation; none was needed. He was as stricken, too. People close to him had just lost loved ones and in the most sacrilegious circumstances imaginable. This was a big abomination from the people of God, a big sin, and a huge dent on the Church's image. He was in the dark on how to begin to repair such damage, but that could wait. The immediate concern was to help the bereaved manage their loss.

He had just come from Madam Theresa's house; she was as inconsolable as Mrs. Eunice. He understood; he felt the pain, too. The circumstance of the deaths was unheard of; the stigma could last generations.

'May our good Lord forgive us and save us from such calamity ever again," he muttered. Life would never be the same again in Umunze. John Bosco was right after all, he concluded.

* * *

Teacher John Bosco paced up and down the staff room in great agitation. Students from Umunze had ferried the news of Nwamaka and Ugomma's death to the school. He still retained fond memories of the duo; they were amongst his best students while at the school. Brilliant lads, respectful and well mannered, what could have gone wrong? He was aghast.

"What an avertable cataclysm, an unmitigable disaster. Why are we such an unconscionable people who inadvertently vitalize escapable peril?" Turning to the other teachers in a typical class pose, he continued.

"Ignorance is a foe, my people; the adversary to our laissez-aller from glaikit customs and religious precepts. Those girls would be alive today and pursuing their bright futures if only we assisted them in avoiding the pit holes that litter their path."

There was total silence in the room, with every teacher struggling to process their own thoughts.

"Fare thee well, my little angels. May we never fail you again in your next life."

They all chorused 'Amen'.   

THE END