STRIPPED (A tale by Arrey Echi)
Posted by The Last Immigrant
The afternoon sun was boiling and almost everyone was stripped to their waist, bare backs soaked in sweat. The metallic click of iron and brass as the motor boys went through their work provided a kind of soothing music which, coupled with the hot sun sounded like a midday lullaby to lure an errant child to sleep.
Sleep was out of the question however. That Sango needed to come and collect his car today and there was still much work to do. ‘But how can one work under this raging sun?’ Achale wondered. Not too long ago, he looked around to be sure that he was at Bonaberi after asking himself time and again if the town suddenly sprout wings and flew closer to the sun. ‘Chai make place no ever hot so!’ He exclaimed.
Tiptoeing around the others, Achale made his way to his favourite spot; a place he accidentally discovered and which has since then served as a sanctuary. Lowering himself to the ground, the cool breeze was a welcome relieve from the blazing midday heat.
He was suddenly lost to the heat and sounds around him. Everything became a blur as his mind zeroed back to that long ago moment that seems to have happened a century ago but which actually was just a couple of years now.
He was his own manager and had several people under him. Nevertheless, hearing the stories of those who have traveled abroad, he felt he was in limbo while the real action happened abroad.
He sold his small but expanding business and went in search for the Patron as people referred to the guy. Funny thing was nobody knew his actual names. Patron was what everyone called him.
Money changed hands and Patron got to work. Within a month, all Achale’s documents were ready and he was about to soar the skies to the land of plenty; a land which he had been made to know flow with milk and honey.
Little did he know the excitement could become his worst nightmare.
Closing his eyes, he could well picture and smell the hot dogs and hamburgers he used to eat. Pictures of the pristine whiteness of the snow during the winter months, which usually made him shout in glee like a kid being offered its favourite toy.
All these swept past before a smiling Achale until the smile died when he reached the moment he was handcuffed and led away like a common thief.
As fate would have it, his visa had expired for a while and he was living undercover for almost a year when his luck ran out and was arrested and sent to jail, where he was stripped of all what he possessed and shipped back home like a common criminal, stripped of all dignity and pride.
The loud bang of metal penetrated his foggy brain and like a dose of cold water, he was brought back to the reality that was his now.
With a sigh Achale grudgingly walked back to join his colleagues, the memories neatly tucked away like a precious treasure chest, leaving a bitter-sweet taste and waiting to be dug up again during one of those boiling but gloomy days.
‘Bang!’
The tears flew and the frustrations mounted with no snowy weather to quench the heat, the iron bore the anger and frustration like it was responsible for his being stripped.
About The Last Immigrant
The Last Immigrant is about writing - writing all about journeys, passion, perception(s). It is about leaving home and travelling beyond, over the seas and above the horizons; of experiences in the foreign and the unknown. Of my view, her view, their view, our views. An enthusiast reader of books, fiction and non-fiction alike, books and stories have been an integral part of my life from the time I was about 8 years old. My passion for literature accompanied me all my life through school and university. With me, you can discuss books from all eras and genres, be it the classics, post-colonial, Victorian, Comedy, Tragedy, Contemporary etc. I don’t limit myself in the world of books. My preferences are the Novel and Short story, but bring on Drama or poetry and I will give it a go. I will be sharing a lot about books in this blog. Books I have read, my take on them, recommendations from me, friends etc. You can follow me on Book Read to see what I am currently reading. I sometimes write short stories and poetry. I will be sharing some of my stories on this blog. Being a mom of 2 teenagers, it is difficult to delve full time into writing; but I try as best as I can to create time for this alongside juggling family and work life. Hope you enjoy the stories. Sports, oh boy, don’t I love sports. I am an avid lover of tennis, football and Formula 1. My favourite tennis players happen to be Serena Williams and Rafael Nadal. I will go sleepless nights singing praises for my beloved FC Bayern München. In car racing, no one drives a car like Lewis Hamilton. You will be getting my take on these great athletes and many others on these pages. Travelling happen to be one of my hobbies as well. I will try and share with you some of the interesting places I go to with a literary twist to it. All in all, you will be getting just about anything that ticks Mbole. I hope you enjoy the blog and please leave comments and notes. Have a pleasant ride in The Last Immigrant’s world and thoughts. Thank you for passing by. Mbole D Nnane The Last Immigrant.Posted on November 11, 2015, in Short Stories, Uncategorized and tagged Africa, African, Black, Detention, Europe, Exit, Home, Immigrant, Pain, Prison, Repatration, Short Story, Suffering. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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