Musah the runaway Ghost- A short story

CHAPTER 1

Pusiga is a town in the old empire of Kumbi Saleh. A town five or six day’s journey away from Agege. 

Agege has all of a sudden rise to prominence due to its oil discovery. In this town lives Mr. Abubakari and his son Musah. 

Life in the town of Pusiga was not that rosy. Situations continued to move from bad to worse with each passing day, so Musah decided to sojourn to Agege where he learnt milk and honey flows.

CHAPTER 2

It seems to be just yesterday, Mr. Abubakuri of the Andani clan of Pusiga retorted. The attitude of his only son seems to have awaken the dead memories of his dreaded past on his exodus to the land of milk and honey, Mimpebrea. 

But what he seems not have remembered is the fact that experience is the best of teachers. Musah who seems not to fathom his father’s stance against his going to Agege for greener pastures, questioned is his stance but to no avail. 

His desire to survive and equally drive in the latest of cars and move the most prettiest of queens seems to have blind his power of reasoning to see the sense in his father’s resistance.

But after days of persistence the father eventually gave in. Before his blessing of wishing Musah the Lord’s guidance on his journey of seeking greener pastures far away Agege, his facial expression, posture and the struggle he went through before piecing together his words of admonishment for his son, something which largely constitute his demeanor bespeaks but one thing, an attitude of a pessimist. 

All along he has been stricken by this unusual feeling that his only son might not return a survival. To end what seemed to Musah who has packed “bag and baggage” a long speech than a blessing, his father opines “though you seem to stand on a mountain and I on a molehill, I can circumvent to a wider proximity done you do”

Agege all of a sudden has gained that enviable recognition globally due to its recent discovery of the African black gold, crude oil. Though unpopular for certain unknown reasons, her indigenes knew the village’s unpopularity would become a thing of the past as a result of the current discovery that was hugely welcomed by all and sundry.  

With this prospect in-sight, the national government which all this while has turn deaf ears to the cry of the indigenes for just a community clinic had maneuvered its way into getting a supplementary budget with just a month past after reading and adopting a working national budget. 

Not even the ever vociferous and foulmouthed Mr. Ojuola, a leading member of the United Alataman Party, the largest opposition party in the Federal State of Alata could stop the government from passing such a budget. 

With its majority in the Legislative Assembly, the government passed what was seen by the opposition as a deliberate attempt win political favour with ease.

Within a matter of a year Agege has experienced an outpour of people migrating from all walks of life with majority identified as people of their close neighbours to the north, Emokolo. This to the natives was no surprise, because Emokolo of late has been reported to have been paralyzed by a heavy drought which has seen most of its youth ran for economic refuge in neighboring communities leaving behind old men and women who watched each other starve to death each passing day due to difficulties in accessing three square meals, not even “eba” one of the cheapest delicacies in the village a day. Such was also the situation of people of Pusiga. For Mr. Abukari, it was as if he has been slapped twice in the face. The memories of his departed obstinate child, Musah and the raging hunger with nobody to look up to was slowly but surely edging him closer to his grave each passing day.     

Years past with the international media carrying it good on the inroads made by the national economy of Alata into the international economy as a result of her oil discovery. This news item which was largely carried live by the local media especially those tilted towards the Wealth for all Party (WFP) which happens to be the sitting government ignited a strong debate on the issue. For the natives who were much faced with the reality on the ground, they felt the reportage was a rather unfortunate one and an insult on their integrity. For short, it was not the true reflection of the situation on the ground. The only developments as far as the locals were concern was the only one tarred road leading to the drilling ground. The locals on several occasions through their opinion leaders sent delegations to the central government but to no avail. Chief Omatola, the paramount Chief of Agege State was heard on several media outlets airing the discontent of his people but his attempts occasions only become a recipe for media discussions and died off with time.

Mr. Ojuola, who for his affluence and influence in the opposition party and the bulk majority of his supporters who cut across a wider spectrum of the Agege State community to drive home his political ambitions. He become very megalomaniac and started to fetch the native youths of the state with vital but rather instigating information on the developments on the oil field. He was very successful with this instigating mechanism through his widely read sole funded newspaper “the voice of Agege State”.

Musah was one of the lucky few migrants who had the onus opportunity to be employed as manual labour on an oil vessel. Amongst his daily duties was to do cleaning of the lavatories and on peculiar days he had the opportunity to clean the bed rooms of the white expatriates working on the oil vessel. It was about a week ago when he saw in one of the local newspapers that his native home, Pusiga is making a recovery from its economic downturn. “Investors from all walks of life have come to invest in Pusiga and are recruiting majority of their workforce from the town, the educated and the uneducated”, a paragraph that caught his attention, read. “I did loved to go back, but what to even eat for this evening is a problem” he muted. It being past two months and he has not received any form of salary from his employers. The worst of it all is that, he has gone to credit a wholesome of food items from Madam Ijeoma, a neighbor to the shanty where he lodges, with the hope that when he receives his impending salary, he will make up for the payment.

CHAPTER 3

It past six in the morning and Musah was feverishly preparing for work. He perceived from the background an approaching noise which was unusual. From his window, he saw an approaching crowd of a furious group of youths with placards. The one that drew his attention to the approaching danger was “if we no chop foreigners for no chop”. To the coming of migrants like Musah has brought nothing but hardship and unemployment. So the best was to show them the doorway to their various home countries.

Musah who at this point knew that his shanty is no longer suitable for refuge, took to his heels and hid under a culvert. The culvert beneath which he hid has been block to pedestrian and vehicular passage due to its weak nature. Excerpts of Omatola the local chief to the people of Agege’s letter read,

‘Dear State Governor, the only culvert that links our village to the city have developed major cracks, so please come to our aide’.

 Since then major feasibility studies carried had led to a close down of the facility under which Musah seeks refuge. What escaped Musah was that, he lies beneath a culvert that he as an individual had persistently called for a major refurbishment work to be done on. A situation which has called for it closure. The situation in which he finds himself now portrays that of a drowning man who in the quest of not getting himself  drowned would hold on to even a stray that lies on the surface of the water.

Before the sudden event that has sent him hiding, he out of frustration phoned home to announce his willingness to come back any moment he lay his hands enough money. Going back home him became a major priority before the occurrence of this untimely event. So his father who objected to his leaving for Agege become very expectant as the day wheels by.

Message of the disturbances cause by the irate youth of Agege village reached the state Governor like a raging fire. His desperation to bring the situation under control led to the impromptu dispatcher of Military men to the village. 

Under the commandership of Major Gilbert Moyoyo, the military traveled a fifty kilometer in an hour instead of the initial two hours. Mj.Major is one of the few military men in the army set-up, who have made significant in rows by way of promotions due to is known exploit of leading several other army men in the past to bring similar situations like the one ensuing in the village of Agege without a fail. 

Knowing what’s at stake if his able to successfully execute the task given him, he impress on his driver, Constable Payoyo to run the speedometer to its barest limit for him to finish the task without a fail. In the outskirt of the village, a smolder beckon him from afar. Sensing the failure that might come out of this task if he does not act smartly enough, he bounce on the driver who had just stopped a stone thrown away from getting to where the bridge holding the culvert is. ‘Constable, are you insane?’ ‘Why did you stop?’ he queried... He knows the village inside out. ‘The bridge’! 

The constable replied. ‘What has the bridge done?’ it has not seen any refurbishment work for some years now, and it is not advisable crossing it with this entourage of a sort. He assented. The Constable happens to be a native of the village till his conscription into the military a young ago. ‘hey Constable if you try to be an obstacle in my way to gaining the promotion I have long since worked for, you will not leave long to even receive one yourself’ he threatened. 

The Constable like a little child threatened by a disgruntled father humbly heeded to his plea and drove cross the bridge without further hesitation. Three out of the four vehicles successfully passed over the bridge with the last one after just a seconds of passing over led to the crack that earlier on persist further widening. 

This led to a subsequent break into with the concrete falling on Musah, who before then was deeply asleep, with his remains flattened under the concrete. This was the untimely end of Musah Abubakari. The military who were oblivion of his being under the bridge left and had their mission of bringing calm to the day village, fully achieved.

CHAPTER 4

Musah Mba, a lady neighbor to Mr. Abubakari shouted his name. Mba in their local dialect meant father. Abubakri asked ‘what is the problem’. Your son has just alighted off a car and is heading towards here. Wow, my son Musah is back, Oh! God, thank you. Without hesitating, he ran to embrace him and led him safely to his home. Welcome back son. He said happily.

Musah who at his point looked extremely exhausted asked for some time to rest so that discussions concerning his journey could be detailed later. The father directed him to his room and allowed him have the needed rest.

Back at Agege, Mrs Ijeoma, Musah’s neighbor has not seen him for months and is deeply worried, absolutely not of the ‘french leave’ he has taken but because she has ran-out of goods and have to travel to the next town to buy goods to restock his store with. Musah, who at this point was one of her numerous customers was highly indebted to her was nowhere to be found. 

Efforts to trace his whereabouts proved not just futile but equally worrying. Musah for some time now have not made it to work and his employees equally as Mrs ijeoma looked very worry. They have on occasions sent a lot of people to visit his place of abode and, the reply they always had wa, he has not being back.

Back at Pusiga, it past six in the evening, Musah have already taken supper and sat close to his father sharing the stories of his sojourn to Agege with him. He at a point broke into tears and opined ‘if am to come back to earth again, I will forever heed to your cautions’. The father helped him up and consoled him to stop the shedding of tears since he is already home.

CHAPTER 5

The military after successfully putting the village back to normalcy had to go back to the city. But before then, the bridge had to be reconstructed. The state governor quickly put resources together and the constructors putted their tools together and started work on schedule. 

On site, a stench has taken over the whole atmosphere and it was very difficult for them to work. They had to trace the stench to beneath the fallen concrete. It being about five months now since the incidence took place. The body of Musah for the period has undergone a decay. The only visible feature was the skull remains. One of the soldier chanced on an ID card in his pocket. As he removed the card, he shouted, Musah Abubakari, from Pusiga. Constable Moyoyo who then was busily assisting on the assemblage of the concrete walls in a manner the seemed like a response to mention of Musah’s name by soldier said, ‘I know him’. He is one of the few foreigners who resides and work in this village.

When the message of Musah’s untimely death got to the village of Agege, the whole village especially, Mrs Ijeoma was short of words. Particularly for her, it was so because Musah have been indebted to her so to hear of his death was the last she had expected.

The chief of Agege together with his elders reached Mr. Abubakari whose contact they had through a search some selected youths conducted in Musah’s Shanty through phone and reported to him of his son death. The news was a surprise to him not because he doubted or believed what they was told but because prior to the coming of the call, Musah has asked for his permission to see a close friend in the next town. A request he willingly granted him. For the sole purpose of avoidance of doubt, he asked the chief’s spokesman, who happens to be the one on the phone to briefly describe the attire in which he was before his death. 

This request was a kind of surprise to Alangu, the spokesman. But willingly did so. Mr. Abubakari rashly retorted, “But Mush left here in the same attire in just about thirty minutes ago”. “Can I come over today to verify this news myself”, he queried. The chief’s spokesman in tune asked of his destination before making the request, “”Pusiga, Ghana[D1] ” he said. “Ghana?” Alangu asked to the utter bewilderment of Mr. Abubakari. Your destination his about five days drive from my destination now. This was simply to tell Mr.Abubakri that, his request of seeing the remains of his son could not be possible. It was later that he got to know that the call came from, Agege. A place Musah returned from six months ago.

Before his son left home, he vividly remembers that he told him he had left some amount of money 
on the center table for him. Something he all by himself verified to be true after the son left the house.On the table with the money was Musah’s wallet that housed his ID.

 “But the man said he had my contact in a wallet containing Musah’s IDs.” He soliloquized.

The only thought that keeps coming to him was the interaction he had with Musah, a night after his return which Musah openly asserted that, if he Musah had the chance to come to earth a second time he would never disobey he the father again. Was he telling me something I refused to fathom? Was that to tell me that, that was his ghost? These are questions he never had the appropriate answers to, since Musah never returned.

A year passed without Musah ever returning home. The father agonized since then, locked himself and died without any relative or neighbor knowing.

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 [D1]wow