Madu Chisom Kingdavid writes and lives in ILE OGBO, Nigeria. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in numerous places, including, Praxis Magazine, Kalahari Review, Bombay Review, Expound, Indiana Voice Journal, WRR etc.
Terimata to the Mediterranean Sea
pppppppppppppppppFor ten days in Terimata, we dined
with penury in a shack, dodged bullets
between the Libyan government
pppppppppppppppppand the rebels on the roads. Sometimes
we would dream where we were in
Spain, Italy or Portugal
pppppppppppppppppPhoning our families we have made it.
We would wake from such sleep of fantasy –
but the thoughts of ferrying
pppppppppppppppppAcross Mediterranean sea would
impregnate us with chills. That day, a Libyan
police smuggled us
pppppppppppppppppTo a lonely beach having beaten
some police checkpoints. Before us was
a mighty sea that seemed
pppppppppppppppppTo have an end covered by a blue
sky. So mysterious that it would grow
pppppppppppppppppWhen it leapt a thousand feet high
and somersaulted. The waves clashed
and thundered in fury that
pppppppppppppppppFear caged us in nature’s wonder.
Our smuggler bought a unseaworthy boat
with yahama engine.
pppppppppppppppppWhen the Sea had silenced, 150
of us settled onto it and began to sail.
Midway the waves became
pppppppppppppppppangry and started clashing and crashing,
the sailor broke into lamentations: “Water
is entering into the boat o!”
pppppppppppppppppWhen the boat started submitting
to the bottom, We wept in prayers, each
holding an empty keg – the
ppppppppppppppppponly hope of survival. The boat
broke and, they holding an empty keg
could float hopelessly but
pppppppppppppppppbrutally buffeted by restless waves.
I could hear the last screams of those who
went down with the boat and
pppppppppppppppppbecame absences. For an hour we
were floating before Italian patrol boats