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I had to take this picture, because I knew that one day I'd write about it.

This will be marked in my diary as the most memorable day of my life.

It was on a Sunday evening, when I decided to take a stroll with a fellow corps member serving with me in the North. It happened that we were not headed for a particular direction. We just wanted to ease ourselves of the boredom of staying at home doing nothing. Especially in a Northern environment where there may be nothing so interesting on a Sunday evening, in contrast with what we have in the East. However, we kept on with our walk, taking note of the tracks we've passed in order to be able to retrace our steps back home.

I've spent just one week in this Northern state, apart from the two weeks and three days already spent on camp as a corps member obeying the clarion call. A call I would have ordinarily not obeyed, if not that there was a compulsory certificate attached to the call.

Getting to see lots of unusual environment from that of the East was actually very intriguing. The ladies all covered up with hijabs and taking holy majestic steps like Angels on runway. You could barely see any part of their bodies, other than their eyes, noses, and mouths. It's for those that cared anyway, as I couldn't just help numbering my days to get to the 365th day I'd have to leave this arid sort of a ground called the North.

There was this particular lady that walked past us with everywhere covered up to her nose. I could only see her beautifully placed eyes in between her red hijab. All she could remind me of when I saw her was the movie: "Iron Monkey". I thought I had seen it all until I saw a feminine figure a pole ahead of us with every single part of her body covered, including her eyes. At first, I thought I had finally seen a Hausa masquerade, until I was immediately told by my friend I was strolling with, who happened to be Hausa too; that the covering of her entire face was a sign that she's either newly married, or preparing for marriage. All these, coupled with the fact that at some point we had to dodge the indiscriminate movement of rams in our way; added to the fun of the walk.

I later confirmed that we've spent almost one and a half ours on the road all in the name of evading boredom. Notwithstanding, we kept on moving.

It got to a point where we started losing sight of people. All we could see were arid grounds with some grasses, demarcated at every corner by scanty shrubs. I noticed that the clouds were taking an opposite direction from ours, and their pace were way faster than ours like it was about to rain. I felt something was wrong, so I suggested to my friend that we should just end the stroll already, but he argued what we'd possibly be doing if we decide to go home this early. I saw reasons with him, more to the fact that he was in his land, so there is nothing to worry about. We then persisted with the walk.

"Hey Ajuwaya, wetin una dey do for this side?",

I immediately turned around and saw a soldier. At first I wondered how the soldier knew we were corps members, but I later recalled he was one of the soldiers that drilled us while on camp. From the little discussion I had with him then, he was an Easterner; Imo to be precise, deployed to the North for a peace keeping mission. We got to be friends basically because of the fact that we're Igbo brothers in a Northern land. I called him 'Sir P'.

I was excited to see him, but he was quick to remind us that where we were was not safe, and that he was there to ensure its safety.

Hardly had he finished his caution, than I heard a quick succession of gunshots in the air. The gunshots persisted as I was engulfed with fear and anxiety because I didn't know where to run from there. I turned back to inquire from my friend where we could possibly run to, but to my chagrin, he was nowhere to be found. I guessed he had already taken to his heels. In the midst of my contemplation, Sir P quickly dragged me along as he dived into one of the shrubs. He then pulled out a branch of a shrub he uses as camouflage. That was when I got to know where he came out of the first time, because we didn't see anyone when we got there.

He advised me strongly not to move an inch as he covered me up with shrubs. I tried inquiring from him where he could possibly take cover, but he made it clear that for the hoodlums to have come here in group, it means they have been informed of the presence of a soldier. So being here with me would only implicate us; hence, the best form of defence here is attacking them.

I felt my heart popping through my throat, and its beat mixing faster than Mastercraft beat.

I also tried to know who those people could be, but the last statement I remember he made was, "If death comes before I prove my blood, I swear, I'll kill death!".

I then saw him running gallantly towards the enemies who were now clear to my vision. As he was running and firing his gun, with some zig zag movements and an intermittent falling and rising from the ground, all in a bid of a defensive mechanism; I could see a running corpse in him, I could hear the wailings of the woman who bore him for nine months, I could see the shattered hopes of a widow with children, I could feel the cry of his siblings, I could see a promising young man full of life and vigour that is subject to termination, but most importantly, I could see the gallantry of a soldier in him!

He was able to combat the mob ranging about nineteen young boys, with few of them on military camouflage, which he shot about four of them. But not later than the seventh minute, he had already been captured, and I could hear some chantings and incantations in their local dialect, as they revolved around him sadistically.

This took almost twenty minutes, and I was only wondering what they were up to. I thought if I could do anything to save a gallant soldier; but obviously, there was nothing I could do, as even my breath was rationed by me to avoid making an atom of noise.

After something that seemed as a prayer was said, six of the boys held on to the arms of the soldier firmly, three on each side; and bringing out a stick that had a sharp, but rough edge, one of them ran from a distance and terribly pierced it through Sir P's forehead deep into its rear.

I hardly see my tears, but on that fateful day, I not only saw my tears, but had a quality taste of them as they rolled down my cheeks into my mouth.

I patiently waited for the mob who ran joyfully away after persisting to ensure Sir P had no single breath left in him. I then crept out of my shrub self and got to where his body was lying. I looked and saw a vehicle a little farther than where he lay. So I carried his body and placed faced downwards on the topmost part of the vehicle for any government agency or helicopter passing by.

I looked at my gallant camp driller, turned friend, turned hero; and said:
#RIP_SirP

I know you may be wondering where all these happened.
They actually happened as a figment of my...
#ComelyReasoning

Meanwhile,
#Anticipate
#The_Diary_of_an_Arewa_Corper
(A must read for prospective and serving corps members)

©Charles Charjoe Chukaokeke