NWOKOMA.....

Nwokoma could still hear the eerie sound made by his pursuers. 

Their regalia were very simple. A long flowing white gown which covered them from head to toe. Except for a couple of feathers tucked behind both ears, and red beads which they wore on their wrists, they wore nothing else.

They so easily handled the long whip in their right hands. Nwokoma could swear they were the longest he had ever seen in his entire life. He caught only the slightest of glimpses of their foot wear. They surely were sandals and they were black and flat.

He still could not fathom exactly what he did to incur their wrath. He was still trying to catch his breath when suddenly out of the corners; they appeared again, eyes blazing in naked fury.

The adrenalin pumped yet again into his veins as he took off in the first direction in sight. He ran through four very long streets. For some bizarre reasons, the streets were empty like the residents had been warned ahead of some impending evil.

By the fifth street, Nwokoma’s wobbly feet were no longer responding to the adrenalin in his veins. Nwokoma was getting really tired. He glanced back swiftly and saw that his pursuers were fast closing up on him.

Out of the blues, a gutter appeared before him. He jumped with every ounce of energy in him, stretching his legs as far as they could reach. His right leg touched down just at the edge of the gutter and buckled. Nwokoma crashed. He rolled over and as he made to get up, it seemed as if his pursuers merely floated across the divide to stand by him, one at each side. This time, he got a very good look at them. Their eyes seethed with so much anger and hatred that he felt that all they needed to do to kill him was just to focus those hateful eyes on him. He also noticed that the white gowns seemed to endlessly float, like a fan was blowing at them from behind.

His last observation made his heart quit beating completely! He had noticed earlier on when the chase begun that his pursuers were wielding whips in their right hands. He suddenly noticed that they also had a machete each in their left hands.

Flat, glistening, extremely sharp, and perhaps new, the blades of the harbinger of death caught the ray of the sun as their bearers raised them up to strike Nwokoma when suddenly some reserved energy filled Nwokoma as he jumped up but only fell down with a great thud.

He was shaking terribly and sweating profusely. The room which was dark only a moment ago was suddenly flooded with light as his parent broke in. 

Nwokoma had been having another nightmare!

If only Palle would leave the lights on at night, but never! He was too stuck in his ways to allow Nwokoma that simple thing. 

This was the third time in the week that he fell from the bed after his nightmares. Nwokoma slept on the top bunk of a three bunk bed customized for Nwokoma and his two siblings. They were four in total. The fourth child slept in a cradle in the master bedroom with Palle and Malle.

Nwokoma was the eldest and he considered himself very unlucky to be born; firstly as a child in the family, and to make matters worse, as the first child and son. Nobody could be unluckier- or so Nwokoma believed.

Two nights ago, Nwokoma had the same nightmare and begged Palle to leave the lights on for him. Like every request made by any member of the family other than Malle; it was promptly turned down.

These nightmares were becoming too incessant and real for Nwokoma’s liking. 

He was sure that some people or forces were really after his life. 

He therefore......(Watch out for the full book)