The KT OLLA Web Stories

ALUKHO wrapped up now, as he came to end his lengthy talk. But he had just grazed the crux of the matter. The escape from the war that Moro sought. Even so, the preacher made to end his words; for they were words to end a night. So the young Jamaican Christian hit the nail. He said: ‘The Messiah has since returned to Heaven. He ascended alive to be the only Way to God. ‘The only Mediator and Go-between between mankind and the Almighty. ‘That is why, in Jesus, I can be sure of the morrow ’cause He has taken care of my destiny! ‘I no longer need to appease things to, at least, survive – I settle things in my prayers through Jesus. ‘And if you accept Him as your Lord also, you won’t have to pay for your people’s sin – as you won’t stay a part of their evil from now on. ‘This is how you can escape bad fate for ever!’ Moro raised his head. ‘I want to serve Him; but you said He has returned to Heaven. So how can I reach Him? ‘Or have you His image here with you, so I can keep it?’ ‘No, that ...

ALUKHO had the answer ready. And Moro wanted to know it too – why his life had been a long hard toil. The younger one spoke. ‘It is simply because the powers of darkness are constantly at war against humanity. ‘Now if a soccerer or something choses to cause harm just because he likes to show power, then what can someone do about it? ‘Well, maybe you’ll say they should appease him in whatever way they could. But what if he is not appeased? ‘Then what do you do if it is no soccerer dealing with you but the demons they serve? How then can you conquer darkness?’ Moro breathed a small sigh. ‘You’re right on this thing,’ he said – ‘we are just helpless. That is why we all say and hope everyday that we don’t meet trouble!’ ‘ K’á má k’àgbákò ,’ his listener repeated, musing on his last words. He went on from there. ‘So like I said, the world is home to the Devil and this evil presence is always at war with us. ‘And that is a greater warfare we cannot win ourselves!’ Moro spoke up. ‘You see, I ...

ALUKHO was driving at a point, so he didn’t stop talking. He explained what he meant. ‘It is true, sir, that you didn’t ask for anyone to make a ritual – so you didn’t kill for sacrifice. ‘Of course, the decisions were made by your town’s king and his priest. So you must’ve only celebrated their festival. ‘Even so, here are you reaping the evils those men sowed—or was the king or priest captured?’ ‘No—’ Moro answered weakly. ‘So if you’ve been good all your life,’ continued Alukho, ‘and still you reap the bad things that others sowed; then don’t you find it rather unfair?’ ‘I do,’ replied the man. ‘It’s frustrating, you know!’ Alukho settled back on his seat. ‘Well, things like these are bound to be when we subject ourselves under what is no God... ‘Idols and magic, spirits and demons—things that are no God!’ ‘What do you mean?’ Moro flared up. ‘The things we serve are god—they are gods to us!’ ‘Oh really? How come they couldn’t rescue you when you were forcefully taken?’ Moro caught t...

MORO had come bare before a fellow countryman as he wanted a straight talk, man-to-man. He had starked himself as bare as anyone could get. He’d pocketed his pride, too, and asked someone for help. Then he had told most everything that he was to this stranger. Only, he kept under clothes what he couldn’t flaunt here. It had happened that Alukho  had seen some magic trinkets beneath the clothes of this gentleman. It was those moments when he collapsed; for a small wind revealed him. So the young Jamaican picked up talk from this angle. ‘A while ago when you collapsed, sir, I happened to see something that looks like a charm—’ ‘It... it is nothing,’ Moro cut in right then. The middle-aged one was quite embarrassed already, as he pulled his clothes down to cover him well. Alukho saw the older man feel awkward, so he explained to him. ‘You see, sir, our yesterday is what begets tomorrow—just like it is what we plant now that we harvest later... ‘So this is why I pointed out that “somet...

THE nurse was not a little flustered, as she kept wondering what happened. But it was a gunshot Moro heard that made him duck in fear. He’d heard a bang, loud enough to throw one to ground. But there was no such sound—only a metal dropped. Right then the young woman called to the others for help. So the freer ones raced there to help the troubled man. Now the women were just not used to those behaviours yet, that went on to mark the trench war. For when they thought of it, they reasoned that Moro had developed a shock. Close to what they’d later term Shellshock. They thought that he couldn’t go on fighting. That they had to keep him around to heal much more. So the nurse spoke to her team head, and the person telegraphed the army officer in charge. Thus, Moro was kept on watch much longer. ◘◘◘ Moro woke up within a short time and was told he’d developed some panic. He was taken care of by kind nurses who worked there. He was equally served food and medicine. The man picked at his meal ...

A LONG peaceful quiet filled a large house. It wasn’t a house per se, but it seemed to have walls – even though they were tarpaulin ones; so Moro could only think of there as one. Still the lost one couldn’t dare to ask a soul there. For there were wounded people lying on raised things with ‘divine beings’ tending to them. But those angels passing in front of him were rather kind nurses who did their work as caregivers in that time of war. Now quite a while had passed since Moro passed out at the gunshot. He had been taken to a treatment centre in the welfare camp of the army. He’d been lying faint on a stretcher board, with a damp towel wrapped round his head. But now he woke up and tried to figure things out. He squinted his eyes and studied the happenings there. He watched the caregivers and saw them show love to people in spite of colour. He saw them stand out in their treatment of others. Yes, the night had fallen and the moon was just rising. Then like the moon was to this night,...

NOW it had happened that while the ships were still on sail, just a while before they docked at shore, a group of men of same language had some talk among themselves. The men were from some other nation in West Africa, where they were captured, too. This group of countrymen stuck together through the long sail. So they had enough time to talk and plan. Then, although the folk seemed somewhat caged by their situation, they seemed to have some freedom. Well, this freedom was the fact that they alone heard themselves. So even if they screamed their words and talked all day, no one would know what they said. So, like every one of the captured ones, the men didn’t want to fight the war, too. Still when they saw how long they were journeying on sea, they knew it’d be impossible for them to flee back. So in a bid to get back home, the group schemed something else. And that thing was what brought Moro down. Now, after the ships reached the docks and people filed out as commanded, the schemers ...

THE setting sun shone against the large waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with sailing fleets sending sounds as they neared England. Their masts blew so fast and proud in the wind. They were schooners ships sailing full masts in torrents that only pushed their sail. The winds had been rather so favourable; and not even a storm was grounding their sail. But the England-bound vessels were only bound so by a plan that their sailors didn’t know of. For several nations were in those fleets for whom the winds blew. Ample winds to bring God nigh. There had been several many days, nights and more since the ships set sail from Lagos, as they carried a multitude to fight in the World War. The heavy ships had boarded people from the inland colonies of Britain. Then they’d sailed off the African continent, running westwards then northwards via the Cape of Good Coast, a waterway. Moro was aboard that wild voyage. He was taken with the drafted soldiers on the British army. Now a few months had passed as...

NOW Moro looked out of the pack. And down there, he saw Wura and their wards. Then that instant, words failed the parents. It was like their hearts crashed into a wall, as there was nothing they could do or say. Still, where words failed tears tore through. For the couple cried so much. Then after moments, Moro spoke the words. ‘I will survive. I will return. Please take care of our children!’ Now those words didn’t exactly speak Moro’s heart. He’d meant them to assure his wife; yet his own fears broke her. So, like fuel poured in fire, Wura’s depth of soul was kindled at the sight of him. And then, the tears flowed. The lady said, ‘Please return to us, Moro! Survive the war and return, please!’ Yet although she simply begged him, Wura’s words sounded like an order to live. Now this order gave her gentleman strength. Moro clenched his fist amid the tears as he nodded in response. He nodded that he was ready. By this time, a man walked down to the vehicle and shoved Wura off, along with...