Another Silence


My smile was almost audible last night,when one of the prison guards handed me the envelope that bore your letter. The first sight of your name on that paper sent tiny suds of sweat and myriads of goose-bumps all over my skin. Despite my sadness and the nodules of nostalgia that knotted in my throat, I found myself smiling; smiling at these four grey walls that have barred me from your honest love and that of my children, smiling at the pale and shallow silk of flesh that now hides my bones and at these mosquitoes that have turned out to be my only companions here. I can’t remember thinking anything else. All I did was smile and stare at the paper in my palm until the alphabets began to blur and to swallow one another. It was then that I discovered I was actually crying. Tears welled up my eyelids, trailed down my cheeks and soaked my jeans. Apart from the persistent dialogues among the mosquitoes as they refused to sleep, the room was calm. Even the air appeared to be listening. The only movement in the room came from my tears as they rolled down my cheeks. I folded the letter which had become moistened with my tears and slipped it inside one of my breast pockets;the one closest to my heart. I braced up to reply, viz to the dirty and almost worn out paper i got through Joseph. My dear I began, I sincerely apologize for my inability to write to you all this while. From your letter which I just finished reading, I learnt that you have been writing to me since the six years I have been here. My dear, I’ve not read any of those letters since we are not allowed to receive or send letters. I was only lucky to get the one that arrived yesterday secretly through Joseph. Joseph is one of the guards but has been of great help to me since the first day I arrived. I’ve always begged God to be good to him as he has been to me. How are you and our lovely children? I hope they are recovering from the series of shocks they’ve undergone from all that has happened within this period, especially from the loss of their only sister. Please, always let them know, even in my absence that I truly loved and will continue to love them. Tell them that being their dad was the greatest honour I ever received. Today is the 14th of February, the day of my execution. After these six years of silence and sorrow,the superintendent allowed me a dying wish and I begged to be given some time to write you this letter before I die. They gave me twenty-five minutes to write to you. So, if this letter suddenly ends without the final full-stop, then know that they came for me before I could finish. I know you must be shocked to hear this.Yes,I was already jobless when you called me to inform me about Adaobi's intravenous disease,and the due surgery that was to be carried out on her. but I kept it a secret because i couldn't just come back with my pocket full of holes.Two million bucks was a huge sum of money,so when I got your call I knew I needed to act fast prior that I had only 48 hours to comply according to the doctor and I feared loosing my 22 years old daughter to the cold grip of cancer. I met my boss because the only option I thought of was the money my office was owing me. We had an intense quarrel when he played down the urgency of my issues. The quarrel which attracted other workers made me threaten to come back the next day. When I came the next day,his back was facing the door and in my burning rage I called out to him but got no response I went closer and I observed a tiny hole in his forehead and fresh blood gushing out. To make matters worst,I had a small pistol in my pocket but believe me it wasn't loaded. I had it just to threaten and get the money required to save our daughter's life. Suddenly,silence was again disrupted as Dr Jones secretary entered with a file. As he observed the scenerio of the whole thing,he shouted and called the securities. I couldn't just tell the court this long and strange story and that was why I pleaded guilty because it was close to unbelievable but the only evidence I have to show you is my honest heart flowing through the ink of this pen which I want you to see my dear wife.

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