A Nightmare

The scene begins with the young man closing the door to his grandmothers and walking in to a car with three men wearing dark suits. He looks back to the house and noticed that the floor buffer is wedged in the front door. He comments to the men that the girl will notice something is wrong and may raise the alarm. Their response, “We already killed her. There is nothing to worry about.” They then proceed to drive. The young man is in the front seat of the car. Interestingly enough his phone is wrapped around his right hand, with one of those phone string things. His seated in such a manner that he is facing one of the men and takes that man’s phone. He pretends to toss it out of the car but instead just tosses the cover. Money drops and falls, rolling on the ground. The man looks sadden by this act and the young man apologizes. The young man realizes they are at a market that seems to be by the shore. He sees a lady whose face he knows, his seen it many times on the pavements in those University days and the man who is driving calls her Mariam (which isn’t her name). She is crossing the road behind the car, the young man turn to look, with face is half way through the window and he notices she seems to be wearing a black shawl that covers her from her shoulders to her feet. It has an almost spider like embroidery and its semi see through. Underneath she is wearing what he can only perceive as a bikini, the top looks like a bow tied to her bosom in yellow and the bottom half was a grey pair of panties. As she crossed the road in her black six inch heels her hair partly done , the right side of her head being what the young man can see has braids hanging and from the top of her head a mini afro. She then sees him and smiles as if to say hello. The next we see is how he struggles to leave these three men he has been on this journey with. They have reached the market and there is a flurry of people. His pushes and pulls to get of their grasp but alas he cannot. Another face appears, with a mini afro and maybe 5days worth of a growing beard. The young man knows this face, his seen him twice most recently whilst driving on the streets and back in high school with his brother. Thanks to his intervention the young man gets a chance to escape. He then picks up his phone and as he is running calls his mother and tells her how the girl at his grandmothers was killed and how he is running for his life. There is something wrong with the connection so he can’t really hear her. As he does this, he is looking around helplessly asking people for help. Telling them how he was kidnapped how the girl was killed, sad as it may seem he was met with bewilderment and shock. People seemed not to believe him. They looked at him strange; one man stepped forward and was asking if the young man was Njokay. The young man denied trying to tell them otherwise. To his failure and his assailants drawing near, he picked up two bottles standing firm on the ground and broke them using the shards of glass in his hands as a shield to ward them off. He ran and ran and ran only to find the market empty. Devoid of people and taking advantage if this he seeks to find a place of refuge within the stalls and stumbled upon the sea. Well not the sea itself but the firm ground with the wet sand that has continuously been washed over by the waves. He follows the path it leads him out of the market place and on the horizon across the water he sees something that looked vaguely familiar and to his right there were what he could only imagine were huts of sorts displaying art of many kinds. He saw people standing in front of one, five people to be exact, with their backs towards he remembers only one of them was a lady in a sari fused with deep yellow, orange and red. She must have sensed his presence for although everything else was still she moved her head slightly to the left as he walked passed them. The young man followed the shore as it curved into the right and saw a building and what looked like a part of a city. 3 men there wearing army fatigues one was shoveling gravel. He recognized the face. This young Somali man lived across the hall from him in the hostels. They called him K. And the other two with guns hoisted in their shoulders were guarding what the man saw as an ATM.

He went on his knees and begged the men for help as he retold his tale as they had drags of their cigarettes and gazed down upon him. They gave him a phone where he was asked to write his name which proved to be a difficult task. He then asked them to call his father, the phone wasn’t answered. He turned around to see K walking on the side walk a few meters above him and he was trying to tell the other men that they were in school together. K simply looked at the young man and continued walking and talking to the lady he was with. The men then gave him another phone where he was dialing his mother’s number in as someone from the bank walked out and asked the guards if there were any strays lurking about and if there were they should beat them. The young man pleaded to the guards to let him finish writing the numbers down so they can call and verify who he was as the men were taking the phone and descending upon me. This is when the young man awoke. Panting, his heart beating with unknown ferocity, his sheets covered in sweat. This young man was me.

I actually had this dream in between the hours of four and half past five this morning (21^st of October 2013) and decided to write it down. No interpretation of meanings or looking for signs and all that. Just retelling of a nightmare I had.

Jah Bless