Mike Tee

I gave my life to this country with pride and doing it wholeheartedly, hoping that, that service is the highest form of love; I fought tooth and nail in the dust of Maiduguri, I was among those who patrolled the borders of Zamfara, I was a watchman under the burning sun of Borno and then sat down watching in the cold nights of Kaduna, all of these to make sure there is peace in the nation that I took an oath to defend. All the bullets that flew past me was a reminder that I have a wife and two children who are waiting and praying that I would return home safely. I put aside birthdays, laughter and comfort, believing that the country that I serve would protect my family if I am unable to do so.
Well, I was wrong. Five years have passed since I fell in service and my family’s struggle has become a wound that have not been tackled. My wife moves from one office to another, following my gratuity which did not and may never come. Last week, our younger child died in her arms right in front of the hospital all because she could not make the payment upfront for treatment.
My surviving son wanders the streets in search for food in the trash, his heart is against this country which I once called my home. He has no faith in the flag that I died defending. And as I watch from the grave, I am haunted by the thought that my sacrifice for my country was what gave birth to their suffering. I gave my all for peace but I am afraid that my son may not grow up to keep that peace because when a country forgets its heroes, it is planting seeds of rebellion in the hearts of those they abandon.

Muhknaan the Village Project
Episode 3
(Narrated by Muhknaan)
Nendi lived off-campus, in Russau, a very busy student area but I never knew a house like that existed in Russau. When she opened the door.
“Welcome to my little space,” I stepped into another world. Like something from a music video. Cool air hit my face, no, not a breeze from the fan but AC. Real and well mounted Air Conditioner.
One side of the wall had four lines bookshelf, filled with great novels, magazines, books, and even biographies. I will very much love to describe how she has a smart TV, framed arts that were pieces to make you stop and think.
“Sit anywhere,” she said as she walk to the kitchen. It was the usual student self contain but it was bigger and very colourful. “Do you want juice or something heavier?”
I sat there staring. “Juice is fine… this is… this place is… it is beautiful.” I stammered.
She chucked. “Don't be too impressed. This is just good management. Nothing lucrative.”
I winked. “Management? Are you sure you are not hiding a side hustle as the governor's PA?”
She smiled but didn't answer.
Later that day, as we studied and talked, we spoke about something more deeper.
“I want to put my village and other rural communities in the map,” I told her. “No one should grow up on darkness like I did and they should enjoy many benefits too.”
She looked at me, keenly. “And I want to start a foundation. For students like you, smart, intelligent and overlooked.”
My heart skipped with mixture of happiness and concerned. Students like me. Not boys from the village, it is just people who are worthy.
*****
Three days later, I was walking in the Faculty of Art Main Hall when I heard two guys from my class discussing.
“Guy, she just dey pity the guy ne.”
“For real. Nendi? With that village boy? Na jazz be that naw.
“She just dey use am do community service, nothing else.”
They laughed loudly and mean. Little did they know I was behind. I sat down behind while Nendi came and sat with me. My chest tightened. All of a sudden, even moment, even book she gave me, every food, all the smile, everything felt like charity. I hated the fact that I allow myself to feel relevant.
*****
That same day, she texted. “Coming over to read?”
I replied:
“I can't make it today. I have some things to sort.”
The next day, I sent another message to her:
“I am sorry. I need space.”
I didn’t explain further or send another message. I just disappeared. Because to me, I was just the village project to her. And I couldn't bear to look her in the eye not until I knew who I really was.

To be continued.
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Eid Mubarak to my Muslim brothers and sisters.❤️
Wishing you peace and joy!

It's all my fault,
What is the bone of contention?
I just don't know.
The pains and hurts; all my fault.

I don't want anyone around,
I just want me with myself.
I love the lonesome life;
I have cravings for quietness.

My heart beats rapidly,
I am anxious and restless;
This is not same as the case in the Bible;
Their shall be no sleep for the wicked.

Why do I misplace anger?
I am irritated at little things!
Can I be treated?
How? What is wrong with me is that of the mind.

One minute; I am soaked in anger,
The next, I am crying loudly like a baby.
Even though, I have not fulfill my purpose,
Deep down, I wish my life ends here and now!