ALIEN

“Do not eat like an animal Bomi. Wherever are you from? I told you to close your mouth while munching or you just might make others lose their appetite.”

“Sorry Mrs." Said Bomi.

“It is I’m sorry ma!” Said Mrs Dagogo.

Bomi tried to adhere to her warnings by sitting straight, taking his elbows off the dining table and chewing with mouth closed, which lasted but five minutes. Unconsciously, provoking sounds came out of his mouth, food particles dropped on the table and the tarred floor was marred. The fork given to Bomi only decorated his right hand while the left did the job of the fork. These did not go unnoticed by Mrs who cursed herself for her action which she considered stupid and a spur of the moment. She was on her way to work that morning when she witnessed an angry mob pouring their weights on   a little boy accused of theft. Pleading on his behalf, she asked what he had stolen. It was an apple. Mrs paid the mob for twenty apples and brought the little boy home to her three-bedroom apartment in a bid to keep him safe and probably a child she never had. When Bomi arrived that morning, the gate of the building awed him, the décor amazed him even though there was a feeling of estrangement in his mind. It took Mrs quite an effort to make him relax a little as he was too quiet for her liking and even scared for his life. On his feet were mud-covered bathroom slippers and the grey shirt he wore on blue hollowed pants had almost all its buttons misplaced or undone. He held firmly to his only treasure; a nylon bag whose contents were a torn storybook and a toy gun. You could notice from its appearance that the bag had been a long time coming.

A more relaxed Bomi was offered a cup of water by a maid and sitting quite a distance away, Mrs began her interrogation. The why, who, what, when and how kept ringing in Bomi’s head but his lips were unmoving. The only response Mrs got were clean drops washing down his dirty face. Addled and remorseful, she made an effort to comfort him which was not very successful.  Her only option was to bribe him with a meal. So we find Bomi sitting at the table, eating ferociously at his rice and chicken stew, leaving no section untouched. As he chewed and swallowed he scratched at his unshaved head, or his sweaty neck, wiped his wet face with the back of his hand while Mrs watched with disgust and wonder- she had lost her appetite for the rest of the day not just because of his aberrant ways but the reasons behind them. She kept pondering how he came to be like that, if he had a family somewhere searching every nook and cranny for their child. Bomi caught the look on her face which made him more nervous. He battled with thoughts of staying any longer, where there was food, or returning to his usual life of freedom. He considered the strange looks of Mrs becoming a reality and probably the beginning of another horrid phase of his life. “She see me as tif too, or she beat me like Agba. I like food and house but no like Mrs eye. She fear me big big." As the war continued within him, Mrs also fought hers: what could be the next step when she could not figure out where the creature emanated. She desperately wanted a child before the demise of her husband a year ago, perhaps Bomi was a sign from her sleeping husband that she could be happy again and now was the opportunity to make that a reality as adoption proved a long excruciating process. But Bomi was not her type. He was a rogue, a street kid who surely could not be accepted in her world. Even if she took him in, won’t the authorities come after her, misjudging the whole matter for a kidnap? All these thoughts bemused her and so were her views about life: when you think you’ve connected with it, you realize you’re a million miles apart from it. Mrs was distracted by the certainty in the voice of the little creature as he said viz. “I know you no like me well. You take me come here to help me alive but you no like me stay. I go now now so you smile but I first tell you all you want to know for me.” And so the story of the little lad began.

Bomi narrated to Mrs. how he was born that way-he sometimes thought he fell from the sky and other times he believed he sprang up from the earth like a volcano. The only thing he was quite sure of was living a while with an old man who pushed a truck for a living. This man always told Bomi that he was not his father nor his uncle because he had found him at a trash site. Bomi by and large felt horrible anytime he was reminded of this fact and thoughts of running away crossed his mind constantly. The old man called Agba was seldom around, if he was, he only focused diligently on his lottery forecast. Sometimes he required the young lad to pick out lucky numbers from various others and if not done, the child received the whooping of a thousand years. Agba had been lucky on different occasions with Bomi’s guesses; such days he would hibernate himself from home for days until when all was gone with the wind of which his return would be accompanied with anger too grave for a human being. It happened that Agba’s absence lasted longer than usual. He had not returned to his wooden thatched house for weeks, leaving the little lad to hunger and solitary reign. Bomi barely survived by taking the old man’s footsteps which led him to trash sites occasionally visited by Agba. As time went by, Bomi became unlucky with his search for food and in exchange, he found his companions-the toy gun and the storybook.

As he spoke, Mrs noticed how his hands; so tender, moved from one direction to the other. For a boy his age and circumstance he gesticulated pretty well. She noticed how handsome he was but for the torture of the sun on his skin which had tanned him more than necessary. His dialect which was at first strange now sounded soothing to her ears and she was surprised she could understand every word that came from his pink lips, or how he was in such good spirits narrating a horrid experience. “Mrs you hear me? Mrs.” said Bomi. Reassured of an audience, his story commenced. Hunger led him into the outer world where he hid in trains or slept in scrappy abandoned buses. Sometimes he trekked, slept by waysides, bathed in the rain, ran away from danger or ate from peoples’ trash. Mrs wondered why no one took him in or to the authorities. “Maybe they were scared of being arrested or forced to pay for their visits and statements to the police station. He must have been regarded as a beggar. Or was he invincible all the while?” She thought. His travels around the world brought him to the market where he was rescued by Mrs. Bomi had taken up a job as a carrier of petty goods in exchange for food. Once a female trader hired him to take her little good of apples to a store close by that in return he would get two apples. A happy Bomi obliged to this offer, while a hungry Bomi took an apple before getting to the store and ate with all pleasure. The sight of such an unkempt little thing who she was only going to use and dump angered the trader after she witnessed her apple dancing in his mouth. Thus she raised the alarm of a thief in the market. “That all you want know for me I tell you so” said Bomi. Mrs was not disgusted by his history rather she was sorry. There was a growing likeness for the child now even though the whole situation seemed weird to Mrs. She still had doubts about the reality of the boy’s story as he had no clue of his birth.

Mrs thought about the real truth which was the fact that no one will ever know the origin of Bomi or where he’s headed. Some might assume his father was a drunkard, a soldier, a thief or a prisoner. Or his mother a deranged dead creature, a prostitute, or a rape victim. Who can reckon Bomi naming himself or an angel watching over him from infant age? Only the sky above us can decipher this mystery sadly it can hardly speak as much as it can rain. Only the birds can narrate Bomi’s travels unfortunately they can only sing. Mrs knew that there were thousands like Bomi out there who scared or amazed us, with pasts unknown and future desolate, existing in a world of their own. She knew it would be a hard nut to crack if she decided to keep him but she resolved to do just that; for the main time. She told Bomi how sorry she was about all his predicaments and that he could stay with her for a time and maybe a long one at that. There was a cool feeling in the house now even though the sun out there was too close to the earth. Mrs had experienced a different feeling, for the first time in her life; she felt obliged to protect and care for this child but she never knew she was moving too fast.                                                                                                                                                                         

How old are you and who gave you the name Bomi?” she asked. “Agba call me Bomi and I 8 year.” Said he. “But how come you know you are eight?” “I no know.  8 fat and fine. I see her in book and like her.” He replied. “Ok… I will not let this discourage me. It won’t take long now, he would learn fast and drop his barbaric ways. I’ll educate him, clothe him nicely and show him the better aspect of life. It won’t be long now. But first things first, he needs a proper bath.” She thought to herself. She was right about one thing though. He needed a proper bath for he looked like he never had one. The maid was thus instructed by Mrs to give Bomi a clean bath while she went in to make a phone call. It turned out that the sight of the white clean bathtub; filled with water, was the greatest scare for Bomi. He reordered his footsteps backwards every second as thoughts of drowning kept reappearing in his head. “No, no I no know swim. I die inside plenty water. No I baf outside, I baf outside!!! The maid who was busy undressing the young lad appeared deaf to his pleas and as she lifted him into the tub, Bomi struggled with all his might to get out of it, making splashes here and there until his efforts caused the maid slipping to the floor and Bomi’s escape to the sitting room. He saw his reflection on the blank TV screen but looked away quickly. The floor seemed so cold to his feet without his slippers. He looked out the window and noticed the gate he saw now was not so overwhelming as before. He looked at the enclosure for the last time and noticed he was alone there, but had the company of his companions in his hand and out there. When Mrs finally came out of her room, the house was once more empty. She checked the bathroom but found the maid struggling to stand with fingers pointing at the door. “Where is Bomi? Bomi! BOMI!!!!  

Hey READER! Kindly subscribe to get the latest gist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!✌✌✌✌✌