ECHOES - Part 2

The story of an amiable chap of about 18 and his delightful caretaker in SureHealth Hospital enjoyed rapid spread across wards and relished Lion’s share of discussions within the hospital and environs. Irrespective of hospital discomforts, the stunning bond of friendship between Emeka and Mma continued soaring heavenwards, leaving pleasant bewilderments in its trail.

Doctor Ken has just confirmed his membership of the team of admirers of the two SureHealth Wonders and his recent conclusive statement in that regard could not suggest less, “Never in the four-year history of SureHealth Hospital has such captivating cordiality been seen between a patient and caretaker”.

SureHealth stands huge at roughly 5km from the city hub. Its tremendous rise in popularity owes gratitude to the skilled hands of a young Nigerian graduate of John Hopkins –Ken—in whose capable hands scores of dying souls and shattered bones received the blessings of life once again. Inpatient and outpatient surge inside SureHealth received hair-raising boosts following serial security malfunctions at various levels in the country which abandoned the safety of innocent citizens at the mercy of blood thirsty terrorists.

By virtue of location and expertise, Ken’s wealth of knowledge sailed exponentially from the situation and his skillful hands navigated his profile to the mountain tops.

 

It was on one of the columns of the National Dailies that Mma got wind of the great works of Doctor Ken and upon confirming her expectations by a visit to SureHealth for one-on-one chat with patients, the unwavering only child of Chief and Mrs. Fred-Donalds was to become a live torn in the flesh of her parents with two obstinate appeals –irretrievable appeals, intrinsically fuelled by a volcanic burst of willpower and regimented boldness. She could not stand the steady disintegration in health, of her age-long bosom friend and academic dearest, whose dire need of advanced medical attention maintained unblinking pleas to Providence in an almost desolate hospital.

Hence, Agbomma’s no-NO-for-an-answer appeals to her parents that, first, Emeka be pulled out of the previous hospital he was admitted into that supervised his right leg’s injuries’ degeneration to almost outright amputation. Second, a fervent appeal for her to be allowed to spend her fast-approaching second academic year’s long vacation at the hospital to take care of Emeka.

Agbomma’s irrevocable demands kept her parents locked up in a haze of thoughts for days.  Staring them in the face, the demands kept hauling concerns at their combined awareness and left them at a loss for words on how an amiable daughter, who hardly asks for favours, had almost turned pale with irreversible demands from her parents to acquire the medical bills of a young boy whom by all indications, was a total stranger to the Fred-Donalds.

Yet to grapple with was the concern about leaving a young daughter who had just bled her first to cater for the medical cares of a young boy with all the hospital discomforts.

Obvious that further delays in granting the demands of a loving daughter was taking dangerous toll on her and since a fulfillment of the demands posed no grievous negative impacts on the life of a beloved daughter and the family’s pocket, Chief and Mrs. Fred-Donalds were left with no other option. Mma’s demands received the approval of her parents and that projected Emeka into the magical hands of Doctor Ken.

Emeka’s transfer to SureHealth was swift. On leaving him and Mma at the hospital that evening, Chief and Mrs. Fred-Donalds assured Emeka of their readiness to take care of his well-being and foot his medical bills. With that assurance and holistic acceptance, unknown to Emeka, Chief and Mrs. Fred-Donalds have taken him as an adopted son of the family.

©Ray Eke

 

ECHOES

Emeka leaned gently on the couch. It seemed the world was becoming an envelope of silence. His conversation with Agbomma has encountered some fifteen to twenty minutes of quietude. His mind roamed for a while and quickly drifted to the events of that fateful Sunday. “It’s already two years…..; how fast time runs….”, he reasoned. 

 

At first, the hospital environment was so dreadful that he felt there was no possibility of life for him after the first three days. How he made it alive till date remains a mystery to him, though he knew deeply, his story owes more than he could possibly repay to Agbomma.

His gaze strayed towards Agbomma whose steadfast attention to the washing of those Hospital cloths never allowed her notice she had been stared at for a considerable time. Convinced beyond doubts that Agbomma’s preoccupation with the present task made no provisions for conversation, his mind delved further into wondering. He remembered his life’s journey with Agbomma as a bosom friend. Their resolute academic efforts that saw them through WASCE, JAMB, post UTME and ultimate admission into the same department in one of Nigeria’s best universities. He thought about heir irrevocable vow to make Nigeria proud to the best of their ability. “Now Mma--his short form for Agbomma- has gone ahead, at least by two years,” he admitted.

 

His optimism received another boost recently from the words of Doctor Ken that come this time the following year; he “will be up on his feet without the help of clutches or humans”.

 

He took a glance at himself and wondered how the very chubby Emeka has paled into nearly a bag of bones.

 

The damage on his right leg has continued to show signs of healing progress even though, till now, he could not by any stretch of imagination, understand how a fellow human could make such a young boy pass through episodes of pain for such a long period of time.
His face became burdened and he tried to force back tears in order to avert a third admonition for the day from Mma and to save her that tormenting sequence of tear-shedding and subsequent emotional breakdown. Pictures of the unfortunate situations of that fateful Sunday have completely seized his mind now—the teeming congregation of Christians who came to worship God, the echoing exclamation from that Barbarian which was immediately followed by a blinding flash and deafening sound, the blurred images of children, teenagers, fathers and mothers soaked in pools of blood and his waking up in the hospital the following day with a severely damaged right leg. He remained grateful to Heavens for the efforts of those unknown Nigerians who pulled him out of the rubbles and ensured his admission into the hospital. How helpless his life must have been at the mercy of severe loss of blood after he passed out within the first few moment of the attack was totally outside the scope of his imagination. The major source of goose bumps that spread all over him was mental pictures of those lifeless children who never had the opportunity of another breath immediately the church was attacked. “What offence could those innocent young have committed to be paid back with death in the most gruesome manner?” he imagined.

 

It did not take more than four Sundays for Emeka to fully understand the country’s deep plunge into the den of insecurity. All the free hospital beds have been occupied by victims of subsequent blasts, most victims battling with conditions that grossly humiliate life. 

 

 

 

The signs are everywhere.  A deadly sect is on rampage, the nation has been held to ransom, cities have turned to bloody stages with fatalities climbing to five figures, hospitals are saturated with victims, church activities and social gatherings remain under lock and key, national events have been moved to the inner chambers and carried out in hushed tones. The roads have become death zones, the airspace loaded with ammunition, media houses turned target points, telecommunication companies counting losses to damaged facilities,  barracks have gone into hiding, NGO’s and multinationals battling with rubbles and Sundays turned days of nightmares. 

 

He wondered how long it will take for situations to get back to normal. Reluctantly, his hand groped for “ON” button the small transistor radio that Mma brought on her first visit to the hospital.

A chilly news headline forced him back to full consciousness. He could not fathom the rationale behind a government proposed dialog with a group that has brought the country to her knees and severely battered her image to the outside world. “What has happened to the repeated promises of bringing the culprits to book?” he shook his head in disapproval.

A feeling of rejection was beginning to overwhelm him; he searched for Mma for a possible conversation to bridge impending tears that have got his eyes laden. But Mma was already on her way to buy food for lunch.  In a desperate desire to overcome tears, he reached for his little book of poems, a collection he has written within his period in the hospital. Randomly, he flipped to the page of the 17^th poem of his book. The title was Echoes, written on one of those horrible days after listening to the screams of a primary four victim of the same merchants of death while receiving treatments on her wounds. Silently, he recited:

 

          Echoes
 

The night stretches

The day so lonely

In pains she groans again

Could someone hear her

 

With love she loved you

With trust she embraced you

Who has stained her with tears

Oh, pains of innocence

 

Hatred gained furry

Bitterness acquired violence

Poverty roars high

Who tames the wild

 

A Sunday like any other

Devil’s weapon unleashed on mortals

Humans ripped to shreds

Oh, innocent children in a pool

 

Who consoles the bereaved

Who heals the broken-hearted

Who speaks for the voiceless

Heavens, to thee we beseech

 

She believed in the promise

She devoted her childhood

In the same country she gave her best

She reels, half-alive, wrapped in scars

 

Recitation of “Echoes” offered less help than anticipated as sultry tears of despair came streaming down his cheeks.  In a blurred vision of tears-soaked eyes, he noticed Mma’s presence within close range. His attempts at pretence fell flat. Mma clearly witnessed the entire event and unavoidably, mutual repeat of those discomforting episodes bounced back.

 

Exit of the brief period of distressing episode gave birth to fresh mutual agreement; first, a mutual agreement on the selection of any poem to be recited at any time or an outright replacement of the book poems with his collection of his short stories.

Second, that copy of his JAMB Admission Letter which he pleaded to be brought to his hospital bed should be taken out of sight as that has tuned to agent of tears lately.

 

They made the best out of their lunch and immediately Emeka got himself immersed into writing a fresh Short Story.  This time, he sailed on his fervent hopes in Nigeria’s future. Mma scanned through the first few lines of the write-up, a full-scale imagination of what the country is missing with the likes of Emeka in dire conditions overwhelmed her. She was in perfect agreement with Emeka’s viewpoints but noted that, with such enterprising, young Nigerians minds forced into hospital beds, progress of the country is, but delayed.

©Ray EKE. 

TRAPPED BETWEEN BARRIERS

The agreement has been finalized. A thrilling cloud of triumph has engulfed Mazi Udemezue and his household. Gathered in that sitting-room, the entire family handed justice to that pot of freshly prepared pepper-soup as a mark of victory—a triumph over poverty and derision.

The inter-family competition reached climax and this time, the Udemezue’s are to be recognized and respected in the entire community for having planted a son in one of the countries in Europe. This thought has possessed the Udemezue’s, to that effect, Joe is to be pulled out of his second-semester, third year, University exams in preparation for the journey to one of Africa’s neighbouring countries---Spain. In the spirit of oneness, the family gathered to celebrate. A unanimous agreement was reached by the family to take the entire community by surprise, by keeping discussions about their supreme triumph a top secret.

Three out of their four farmlands had already been mapped out for sale to cater for the air ticket and other exigencies of the trip as demanded by Ken… the syndicate, who had concluded agreements with the family to secure a befitting place for Joe in Spain.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Welcome to Casablanca Airport. Local time is 03:30pm and the temperature is 34 degrees Celsius. For your safety, remain seated with your seat belt fastened………………”.
The feminine tone of the flight attendant was appetizing.

Gripped to the marrow with nostalgic feelings, Joe remained mute in his seat as the aircraft taxied to the parking lot, not in the least mood to open up discussions with Ken who sat beside him.

Waiting patiently in that luggage claim room as their luggage journeyed towards them, Ken instructed Joe on where to keep the luggage and wait for him while he quickly goes to grab a bottle of water.
That was the last time Joe saw Ken.

Hours after Ken disappeared; the reality began to dawn on Joe. Mr. Ken has abandoned him. The initial arrangement was to have a brief stop-over at Algeria and to proceed to Spain an hour after. Now, signals of nightfall are fast overtaking daylight and Joe must find a place of shelter before darkness becomes absolute.  The money in his pocket could barely take him to the closest two storey building that was awaiting completion.

With his luggage kept at a corner of one of the filthy rooms, Joe sat down confused, his mind, a whirlwind of thoughts.
Not quite long, three young men emerged from nowhere. Joe shrank in fear. Joe is to receive the beating of his life by these young boys who have specialized over time, in trailing young African youths abandoned by their “masters” at the Airport while on the same course as Joe. One call by the boys, a Hilux Van arrived; in it were one Sergeant Malik, two security guards and two frail-looking young men whom Joe later identified as Peter and John from Togo and Ivory coast respectively, who were victims of the same predicament as Joe. The boys are to be taken to an isolated cell outskirts of the main city for an unknown number of days. A specialized cell for youths who become vulnerable after been abandoned at the Airport.

Having  lost all their belongings to hoodlums and guards, Joe and his colleagues remained locked-up for days in that isolated, dark, filthy, God-forsaking hell of a cell, too dazed to talk to one another.
From there, they could hear the drone of a Hilux Van in the distance and in a moment, Sergeant Malik and his men arrived. Joe shrank in paralytic fear. The door of the cell was thrown open.
One after the other, the boys had their hands tied at the back, with steel chains taking absolute custody of their legs. Their persistent plea for leniency was greeted with malicious smile from Sergeant Malik who took intent supervision of the events in the company of three hefty guards, all armed to the teeth.

Darkness was impenetrable.

Having succeeded in bundling the boys into the back of the Van, Sergeant Malik and his men hurried in, in readiness for the arduous task ahead. Joe and his colleagues are to embark on a distressing 6-hour journey to the unknown, a journey to the land of uncertainty and illusion, a land where the possibility of life is next to impossible.

Turning right at that notorious junction, Sergeant Malik and his men headed straight to the road leading to the world’s mightiest desert---- The Sahara.

About 4 hours into the journey, Joe could perceive at intervals, sickening stench that travelled with the wind.  The stench gained concentration as the journey advanced and in a matter of moments, the cause of this stench would leave Joe permanently sealed with fear.

Malik and his men had already planned their ordeal and to them, the rule was apt: “SEPARATE THE BOYS WITH MILES OF EMPTINESS”. This rule, they obeyed to the latter and in a matter of minutes, the Van pulled to a stop. John the Togolese was bundled down, unchained and abandoned in the middle of nowhere, at the mercy of desert animals and climatic violence, in the dark, impenetrable moonless night.

The journey continued.

With considerable kilometers from John, Peter the Togolese was bundled down and dumped, leaving Joe and two guards at the back of the Hilux Van.

Eventually,  it was Joe’s turn to be consigned to fate.
Unable to accept the harsh realities of being stranded in a barren sea of bareness, Joe clung to the uniform of Sergeant Malik in desperate plea not to be abandoned. A deafening slap from one of the guards threw him to the ground. Malik and his men turned on the ignition and the van roared to life.
Joe remained paralyzed with shock as the Van vanished into the distance, his heart pounding heavily with a mixture of fear and impotent rage. This time, that same sickening, life-threatening stench has become totally unbearable. As he tried to make a swift move in search of fresh air, he stumbled on something and fell. Lo and behold, a smouldering human flesh. The reality began sinking into his consciousness faster than ever and the fear in him crystallized.
Sealed with unconcealed fear, he crawled a little distance and waited in desperate desire for daybreak.

A night in the desert united Joe  with shock and despair but then, the brutal realities of daybreak have made the night something to be desired for him. Behold the bodies of promising, young African youths littered everywhere in the desert while in desperate bid to get to Europe.

For Joe, he must act fast if his dream of getting to Europe will not end in such anti-climax as that of those littered everywhere in the desert , but then, how far can he go in such a vast sea of sand with neither food nor water?
The temperature is beginning to climb and before evening, it will attain a blistering 45 degrees Celsius. Joe took a gamble on his options and embarked on a grueling trek to his right in desperate survival against the odds.

 The Sun had already started unleashing nuclear terror on the desert floor and before noon, Joe was already ravaged by hunger and thirst. “Struggle must continue no matter how dangerous”, he admonished himself and continued his ominous trek under the baking Sun of the Sahara. Just ahead in a distance, he could vaguely see a continous line of walls shrouded in mirage. He managed to double his steps. Behold! the double, 6-metere, fortified, anti-alien, razor-wire fence separating Morocco and Spain. His heart gained momentary relief but then, this latest discovery left him with nothing to be cherished as the stench of those shredded bodies of promising migrants at the foot of the razor-wire fence who slumped and died after unsuccessful attempts to scale the fence, kept him gasping for breath.
So far, Joe’s system has already been pushed to the limits and he clearly knew the implication of a second day with neither food nor water in the desert.
As the battle with hunger, thirst, hopelessness and scorching temperature s reached climax, Joe was left with only one disgusting, ominous choice: SCALE THE DOUBLE, 6-METRE, RAZOR-WIRE DEATH TRAP.
With the little energy left in him, he began the titanic struggle not minding the consequence. The anti-alien, razor-wire fence showed no mercy in shredding Joe’s flesh and blood oozing out from his mangled skin wetted the ground beneath. With one last effort, Joe scaled the first fence and fell across in a barrier in-between the fences. Every energy in him has been lost to the first attempt and blood was fast oozing out from all over his body.
In a matter of minutes, Joe was already soaked with a pool of his blood and hope for life began diminishing much more rapidly. Temperature has already attained whooping 44 degrees Celsius and no sign of help could be found anywhere.  His internal struggle to regain consciousness met brick wall as his system, having lost ample quantity of blood, was beginning to shut down gradually. Within him, hope, energy and determination were gradually replaced by disappointment, depression, dehydration and above all, fear of death which hovered imminently around him in the scorching blast of the Sahara Sun.

Now, totally eluded by impulse, Joe remained motionless on the backing desert floor, helpless, hopeless and dehydrated with a pair of eyes that glared at bareness. The desire for Europe had fizzled out in him moments ago, John and Peter were no more, death was abundantly around and help was completely out of sight.
Helplessly trapped between barriers, Joe Udemezue lost his grip on life and gave up the ghost.
© Chinedu Ray EKE. 

MATRIMONIAL BLISS ---- For the Love of your tracks OH YANNI. (18+)



It was pleasantly, a memorable day in the lives of Kevin Martins and FELITSA Daniels. A two-day national public holiday had been mapped out following their National team’s remarkable milestone in a just concluded World cup tournament. Everyone— relatives, friends and well-wishers of the bride and groom all gathered. A dazzling array of flashy cars laced the stunning outlook of the wedding venue. The weather was perfectly clement. An invigorating air of happiness filled the NOVEMBER SKY. The wedding proper had already kicked-off and the congregation staunchly, took part in all the activities, expectant of the star activity of the day— the exchange of marriage vows. Series of religious activities took their turns and eventually, it was time for the crux of the day’s gathering— time for the intending couple to make THE PROMISE.

The pastor called the bride, the groom and their sponsors up and with elegant steps, they marched out. A resounding ovation erupted from the congregation. The pastor read to the hearing of everyone, marriage vows and the bride and
groom repeated in turns. The process continued UNTIL THE LAST MOMENT of vow making was observed. The pastor then gave a concrete seal to the marriage vows with the statement, “Today, Kevin and FELITSA have exchanged marriage vows and are hereby declared husband and wife. Therefore, what God has joined, let no man put asunder”. An overwhelming applause by the congregation filled the atmosphere. Kevin and FELITSA exchanged pleasant stares and beamed synchronous smiles at each other. The pastor watched both of them with analytical interest for a while a said to Kevin, “You may kiss the bride”. Kevin quickly grabbed FELITSA and both indulged in a passionate kiss before the cheering congregation. Immediately, loud songs of thanksgiving and praise erupted from the band group and everyone was ushered into an atmosphere of great jubilation. Friends and relatives of the bride and groom rushed out in solidarity to the altar to embrace the newly wed. A frenzy excitement charged
the air.

 Just behind the jubilant crowd, the pastor emerged and mounted the pulpit. The loud songs of thanksgiving and praise gradually fizzled out and maximum silence ensued once again. As a matter of necessity, he called the newly wed to stand    up and in a clear and mild tone, he admonished; “Remember, the vows both of you have made to each other before the children of God are for a lifetime. Apart from being spiritually binding, they are equally sacred. The sanctity of these vows should be upheld at all times and nurtured FOR ALL SEASONS of life. Nothing, I repeat, nothing should be a barrier to the upkeep of these vows. Be it silver, GOLD, TRIBAL DREAM, ETHNICITY, riches, poverty, sense of NOSTALGIA, scarcity or plenty. No amount of reasons will also be considered worthy for any infringement upon these sacred vows. And for all of us here, let us still remember that we have a role to play in providing mutual support to one another for our collective spiritual growth. Growth in the spirit should not be a ONE MAN'S DREAM , rather, the dream of  everyone. Kevin and Felitsa we are WISHING WELL  today, tomorrow, another set of couple would be on the same track Kevin and Felitsa are today. That implies growth. So brothers and sisters, it is always NICE TO MEET YOU and to witness our fellow brothers’ and sisters’ union in marriage. Shall we now rise for our closing prayer..”

As the closing prayer came to an end, the atmosphere of jubilation resurfaced. The couple, in the company of relatives, friends and well-wishers embarked on a MARCHING SEASON to the "Liberty Hall"— venue for the grand reception of the couple.

 The reception was a spectacularly coordinated effort. Mountains of gifts from relatives, friends and well-wishers colonized every vacant space inside the "Liberty Hall" with tactfully selected symphony music tracks ranging from:

NIKI NANA (WE'RE ONE),  , TRIBUTE, SOUTHERN EXPOSURE, BEFORE I GO, SANTORINI, ARIA, ACROYALLI, A WORD IN PRIVATE, WITHIN ATTRACTION,  ONCE UPON A TIME, FLIGHT OF FANTASY to NIGHTBIRD, adorned everyone with unprecedented ecstasy. The reception ended at exactly 7:45pm.
With burning quest, the couple took a smooth ride to their high-class two-storey building located about three kilometres from their capital city.
Without much comments and time wasting, they inched their way to the bathroom for a detailed bath, took their supper in quick succession and retired into their room.
Initially,it was a moment of REFLECTIONS OF PASSION they shared during their days as singles. Part of their joy was that the mutual SECRET VOWS they made to each other in private have finally gained public ovation and admiration with an eventful FAREWELL to bachelorhood and spinsterhood. FELITSA, now a bit uneasy, chipped in with a comment, “anyway, LOVE IS ALL”. Their conversation suffered some periods of silence. At this one, Kevin glanced at the wall clock. “It’s already 10pm”, he said in a surprise. It was barely ten hours left for them to take-off to the NORT SHORE OF MATSUSHIMA for their actual honeymoon. Anyway, for a married couple, ten hours before daybreak is NEVER TOO LATE for them to showcase their matrimonial rights. FELITSA whose uneasy state appeared to have left her with ONLY A MEMORY of a newspaper’s description of the FIRST TOUCH of a man’s “creative licence”, stared Kevin in the eyes. Her right hand softly landed on Kevin’s chest and travelled towards the lower part of his abdomen with a mild expedition. Kevin smartly recognizes love signals AT FIRST SIGHT and obviously knew that A LOVE FOR LIFE was on the way, in fact in the making and responded accordingly. PLAY TIME signals filled the room and after a few moments of passionate fiddling with each other’s garments, both emerged in their TRUE NATURE, formidably ready to dance to the tune of the "MIDNIGHT HYMN".

 On sighting FELITSA’s buoyant feminine charms, an inferno of emotions clouded him and this time, his potent masculine desires became diametrically unquenchable. FELITSA knew little more than a novice in this kind of game and could not get the footwork right initially. She practically did not know what to do, even with her “destiny” in her hands. TO TAKE----TO HOLD or what? After moments of not-too-impressive efforts, she submitted completely to
the one who knows better— Kevin.

With the game he has been playing by heart all day long now at his doorstep, Kevin did not waste much time CHASING SHADOWS but headed straight to the “POINT OF ORIGIN”. Realizing FELITSA had never for once danced to the tone of an imaginary song, an aura of lordship engulfed him and slowly but softly, he continued his expedition to the Treasure Island.

 FELITSA became confused at how the Kevin she knew as a QUIET MAN had suddenly turned a total stranger with inordinate ambition to explore his world. She was also not at peace with what appeared like a DANCE WITH A STRANGER which Kevin was about luring her into. Despite all these, she still needed a full dose of the whole action. Therefore, it became difficult for her to say “Yes” but completely impossible to say “No” to Kevin’s appetizing demands.
Kevin’s treasure hunt took an upper hand. His arrival was greeted with a scream typical of a NIGHTINGALE but neither daylight screams nor WHISPERS IN THE DARK nor anything at the moment could stop Kevin’s mild pounding ON SACRED GROUND. Occasionally, FELITSA appealed to Kevin in ALMOST A WHISPER to tread softly and Kevin’s strict obedience to her appeals plunged them into a boundless ocean of goodness. Finally, the eagle landed and Kevin deposited a precious gift that would emerge in its full splendour before THE END OF AUGUST, the following year. Both could not express their overwhelming joy with mere words but cuddled each other and dozed off.
 For the first time they felt the taste of matrimonial ENCHANTMENT, it was unmistakably for them, A NIGHT TO REMEMBER.

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 The hustle and bustle of the previous day weakened both Kevin and FELITSA. About 6:35am, they woke up from sleep. With less than one hour thirty minutes left for them to get to the airport, they hurried their morning exigencies, had a quick bath and dashed into the room for the daunting task of split-second dressing. Kevin was the first to get dressed while FELITSA maintained a meticulous approach to her dressing. With a final LOOK IN THE MIRROR, she
turned to Kevin and with that gracious tone, she said, “sweetheart, I must thank you immensely for an unforgettable night of bliss. The pleasure was completely outside the range of my imagination”. “A million thanks to you gentle giant”, replied Kevin.
 “You just saw a PRELUDE to the great pleasures that have queued up for us in the future. We’re just at the threshold of our matrimonial bliss”. With those remarkable statements from Kevin, FELITSA hugged him unreservedly and both engaged in an invigorating matrimonial kiss after which they loaded their luggage in the car and took off to the airport for a flight to the NORTH SHORE OF MATSUSHIMA for their actual honeymoon.

 ©Chinedu Ray Eke