THROWN OUT

It was Saturday's evening, this day would remind Fanen of all the agonies he has gone through in life.

You know, I could understand the feeling. Most often you become healed of bitter experiences suffered in the past, but anything negative occuring could easily awaken the sore, especially if it hurts deep.

Fanen could detect the sound of his uncle's machine from afar.

As he drove in, he stood to where he sat to welcome him in, and if he had anything on him, he would receive it in.

But opposite was the case; as soon as he came face to face with Uncle Iorwuese, Fanen was kicked into the face by his uncle, causing him to tumble to the floor.

"Get up you idiot!" His Uncle greeted and persisted; "Go in now! pick every of your belongings. You are leaving my house this very moment."

Neighbors began gathering, his wife loosen her wrapper and tied it back to shape as she ran to plead with her husband; "Or ya wam (my husband) please naw, what has he done? Where do you want him to go this night? Please please."

All of which fell on deaf ears. He was a man that pleading with him when his mind is made up could be adding more salt, so the best is to allow him have his mind satisfied, then he would count his evil.

Fanen fell on his knees; "Uncle please! whatever I have done forgive me. I promise to be good and do better."

Without hastening, uncle Iorwuese landed to his face a banging slap that seemed to have brought the whole world to a stand still.

"I say you should pack every of your belonging and get out of my house!" The beast in him yelled.

"At that moment, my mind was made up. I couldn't lay a hand on what I had done to warrant the judgement.

Before he left the house, we were all smiling, but returning back, he was a total beast.

Could this be the effect of alcohol? I thought carefully but he was not a man given to much fermented drinks, so what was the crime deserving my judgement?

Not minding, my mind was made up! It is time to face this suffering in another direction." Fanen wrote down in the diary.

So he stood to his knees, bowed his head to pay humor to his lonely life and pray for the best, he took a gulp of air in and exhaled, then strengthened his soul and walked out into his room.

Packing all his rags, he stuck them in the carrier back (handy sack bag) and waved a tearful goodbye to the environ.

He walked passed Holy Child Catholic school, walked passed Holy Mary Catholic Church and soon was at the Bali junction.

He turned back but nobody came for him.

He strengthened up and soon was at the shores away from the Bali community.

He looked back tearfully and waved a goodbye to a place he would his entire life called once-a-time-home. This would be the last he would be seen the town called Bali until in days he would be back as the bearer of the cross to save her people from the agonies of hell.

With no penny in the pocket, with no food in the sack, Fanen trekked kilometers he would lose count of.

On the day he would be writing his biography, Fanen would find it difficult to believe that his own uncle, the elder step brother to his mother would send him packing without anything to transport him.

But by then, Fanen was a strong boy with great determination and will.

Where was he going to go from the middle of the road.

His mother Torkwase was no longer with her husband. She had become tired of the abuses and domestic violence from her husband and first wife. She vowed it best an option to move back to her people so she could stay alive. To put to summary, Torkwase, Fanen's beloveth mom was no longer a dweller of Taraba state.

Considering her step mother, she had fallen sick with legs too feeble to do a thing. She had traveled to a place called 'May hura' where she was receiving treatment.

Fanen would journey there first on his foot to inform her of the development before thinking of whether he would be going back to her mom's husband's place or not. It was a hard time for the young lad.

Exhausted, worn out and painted ashed with the dust of the path that rose to chase him off their midst as he bypassed their terrains, Fanen burried his head to the road not to imagine the distance.

Soon he came to a juncture that would warrant him access to the way that his step mother dwelled but a fetish-looking figure approached him, it was a herbalist.

"Greetings sir! What do you want from me?" David greeted and questioned at the same time.

"No no no Young one! I am not here to do harm. I can see that you have come a long way and have suffered a lot. Things are terrible with you. Everyone is against you and nothing good is happening. I have a charm with me that would bring good fortune your way. Because I am concerned about you, i will not charge you much. Just hand me thirty naira and it is hours. All sorrow will be over there after." The fetish-looking figure beseeched.

"No! I do not need your charm. Please allow me go my way." Fanen demanded.

The man seen that he was adamant and too full of the burdens of his life, he moved out of the way yet pleaded if David could make the collection for just twenty naira, yet Fanen turned down the offer. An act he would be grateful for the rest of his life

At this point, Fanen had no Personal revelation or knowledge of his Lord. He was just a religious fellow, yet he could not go with the devil when he made an over to purchase.

Then Fanen traveled from the Juncture by foot to his step-mother's dwelling place, tears rent his lids and broke out, streaming his cheeks.

The poor old lover of was in a bad condition with paralysis.

The two hugged and kissed each other's cheeks as David sat served with a calabash of water and told her the bitter tales of his life in recent time.

The old woman wished there was a place for him to aboard with her but it was not possible for the young lad to tarry, except for just a night.

(Early the next morning)

Searching the knots of her wrapper, mama unraveled a hundred naira note that was only enough to convey Fanen on a motorcycle to the path he would travel the jungle by foot.

Here, the chapter of the diary closed that day and left me, the teller of the story in tears.

I felt sorry for Fanen and began to reflect on my life. Even though I had not traveled through the entire pages, I was yet marveled that Fanen was no ordinary personality, but such with a great bearing for which he bore the cross.

"Lord! I am ready to carry mine." I fell by my bedside praying and from there fell into a deep sleep.