Umuahia to Ekok: Chapter 8

The forest’s edge loomed before them, the towering trees thinning to reveal the open expanse of land that stretched toward the border. The border itself was a chaotic scene, with a throng of desperate refugees pushing forward, trying to cross into Cameroon. The promise of safety lay just beyond, but Nneka knew that reaching it would be the greatest challenge of their lives.

Every step was a battle for Nneka, her body weakened by the venom coursing through her veins. She leaned heavily on Chima, her breath coming in labored gasps as she forced herself to keep moving. Each glance back at Obi, whose small hand clutched hers tightly, fueled her resolve to push forward. She could feel the life draining from her, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it end here, not until her children were safe.

Aunty Ngozi, her face a mask of determination, led the way. She had seen the signs: the increasing presence of soldiers, the distant rumble of vehicles, and the oppressive silence that followed. She knew that Major Ibrahim was closing in, and they had little time left.

As they neared the border, the sound of gunfire erupted behind them, a chilling reminder that their pursuers were not far off. Nneka’s heart pounded in her chest, but her steps slowed, her strength nearly spent. Chima glanced at her, his eyes wide with fear and understanding.

“Mama, we have to keep going,” Chima urged, his voice trembling with the weight of the responsibility he bore. He could see the border, the final line between life and death, just within reach.

Nneka shook her head, her grip tightening on his arm. “No, Chima. You must take Obi and go with Aunty Ngozi. Cross the border. I’ll hold them off.”

“Mama, no!” Chima cried, his voice cracking with desperation. “We can’t leave you!”

“You have to,” Nneka insisted, her voice fierce despite her weakening body. “This is my fight now. You have to protect your brother and get to safety.”

Chima’s heart shattered at her words, but he knew there was no time to argue. Tears streamed down his face as he nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He turned to Obi, who clung to Nneka, his innocent eyes wide with confusion and fear.

“Obi, come on,” Chima whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “We have to go with Aunty Ngozi.”

Obi shook his head, refusing to let go of Nneka. “I don’t want to leave Mama.”

Nneka knelt down, cupping Obi’s face in her hands, her eyes filled with love and sorrow. “You must go with your brother, Obi. I’ll always be with you, no matter what happens. Remember that.”

With a final, trembling kiss to her youngest son’s forehead, Nneka stood and turned toward the forest, where the sound of approaching soldiers grew louder. Her resolve hardened, her mind clear. She would buy her children the time they needed to escape, even if it meant sacrificing everything.

Aunty Ngozi grabbed Chima’s hand, pulling him toward the border. “Come, Chima. We have to move quickly.”

With one last, anguished look at his mother, Chima turned and ran, dragging a sobbing Obi with him. The border was only a few hundred meters away, and they could see the Cameroonian soldiers guarding the other side, their stern faces a promise of protection.

But behind them, Nneka’s world had shrunk to the sound of her own heartbeat and the heavy footsteps of Major Ibrahim’s men closing in. She could see the first of the soldiers emerging from the trees, their guns drawn, their eyes cold and merciless.

Nneka stepped forward, her body trembling but her spirit unyielding. She stood tall, her back straight, her chin lifted. This was her moment—her final act of defiance against the man who had torn her family apart.

Major Ibrahim stepped into view, his cruel smile widening as he recognized her. “So, you’ve finally decided to stop running, Nneka. Where are your children?”

Nneka met his gaze, her eyes blazing with anger and pride. “Far from your reach, Ibrahim. You won’t touch them.”

Ibrahim’s smile faded, replaced by a scowl of irritation. “You think you can stop me? You’re just one woman, weakened by your own foolishness.”

“Perhaps,” Nneka replied, her voice steady. “But I’m more than enough to stop you from crossing that border.”

At that moment, a shot rang out. Sergeant Okorie, who had followed them in secret, appeared from behind a cluster of trees, his rifle aimed at Ibrahim. The surprise attack caught the soldiers off guard, and chaos erupted as Okorie fired at the advancing men.

But Ibrahim was quick. He raised his gun and fired back, the bullet finding its mark in Okorie’s chest. The sergeant staggered, clutching his wound, but continued firing until his strength gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

The soldiers hesitated, unsure of their next move, but Ibrahim was relentless. He aimed his gun at Nneka, his expression one of cold satisfaction. “This ends now.”

Nneka didn’t flinch. She had accepted her fate, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. As Ibrahim pulled the trigger, a single shot echoed through the clearing, and Nneka fell to the ground, her final breath escaping in a soft sigh.

Ibrahim turned to his men, his voice a bark of command. “Find the children! They must not reach that border!”

The soldiers surged forward, but as they reached the border, they were met by a wall of Cameroonian soldiers, their guns raised in warning. One of the Cameroonian officers stepped forward, his expression stern and unyielding.

“Stop right there,” the officer ordered. “Those children are under our protection now. Cross this line, and it will be an act of war.”

Ibrahim seethed with frustration, his eyes narrowing as he realized he had no choice but to retreat. The children had crossed the border, and any further pursuit would mean certain death. With a final, furious glare at the Cameroonian soldiers, Ibrahim turned on his heel and ordered his men to fall back.

Chima and Obi, now safely across the border, looked back one last time. They saw the soldiers retreating, heard the distant echo of gunfire, and knew that their mother had given everything to ensure their safety.

Chima held Obi close, his heart breaking with grief but also swelling with a fierce determination. They were safe now, thanks to Nneka’s sacrifice. But the pain of losing her would never fade.

As the border disappeared into the distance, Chima made a silent vow: he would honor his mother’s memory by living a life worthy of her sacrifice. And though the road ahead was uncertain, he knew that Nneka’s love and courage would guide them, always.