With Love, From The Warfront

 

Dear Titilope,

I live through every day with a picture of you tucked into my breast pocket. At the oddest times, I tap it to make sure it’s still there. The boys here call me lover boy because I won't stop talking about you. That's all I have every day really. Just you. If I don’t talk about you, we’d have to talk about our friends that are dropping like flies.

There was this one guy who I thought was a lot like me. He just wanted to get home to his girl. She’s from Abakaliki too so I called him my in-law. Like me, he didn't want to be here. We showed each other pictures of our women. His was a lot like you. Big smile, bright eyes. You'd have liked her. We bonded over fermented palmwine and even said we’d visit each other after the war. His babe's name is Onyinye. 

But I don’t think Onyinye will see him again because yesterday our base was attacked and his head got blown off right in front of me. Not by a bomb. A gun, Titi. A fucking gun. One bullet and his head just went splat. I can’t get the sight out of my head. Our hysterical captain cursed the government as we tried to defend ourselves. He said we should have guns like that too but the government doesn’t care about us and our lives. I felt his rant was a little ill-timed. The terrorists were raining bullets on us. Babe, it was like actual rain. We didn’t even know where they were shooting from.

One guy they called Bobo also got really hysterical and stood up, out of our hiding place and started to shout at the rebels, asking if they wanted a piece of him. Before I could ask him if he thought this was a movie, they had sprayed him with bullets and he landed in a heap right beside me.

I looked at him in panic but he was smiling. Titi, he was about to die and he was smiling. Then he said "E go be" and passed out. Sorry, passed away. Bloody hell. I think he committed his own version of suicide.

I’m a little shaken because there’s no water anymore. I don’t even want water honestly. I just want to be in our room in Ibadan one last time. See you one last time. Maybe then I’d be able to smile like Bobo did when he died.

I’ve been trying to fall asleep so I can at least see you in my dreams. But I haven’t slept in three days. We’ve been on the run for a bit and the rebels are after us. They’re like those things in those awful movies you like to watch. Zombies? Vampires? Undead? Mindless fucking killers.

Sorry I’m cursing so much. I know you don’t like it. I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s weird that you don’t like it when I say the F-word when you curse like a sailor. The only difference between me and you is you don’t say "Fuck", but you know it’s all the same, yes?

 

You know that hysterical captain? He died last night. His head exploded like Onyinye's boyfriend. In front of me too. I honestly wish they’d stop blowing people’s heads off in front of me. It’s rude. I hope you’re laughing now. I am. You’re probably going to be a little mad at me because you always complain that I make jokes out of everything. I’m really sorry if you’re pissed

 

If I make it out of this alive, will you marry me? I’ve been telling the guys here that you’re my fiancé so we might as well. I know it might not happen because we’re losing. They’ll send in a new squad after we all perish and those ones will perish too. We’re out-gunned. We barely even get anyone of them. We caught one a few weeks ago and they were trying to interrogate him, I guess. I didn’t hear anything because my Igbo ass doesn’t speak any Hausa. But he screamed some northern nonsense and something exploded. He died, taking the two interrogators with him. 

 

Titi, their weapons are so sophisticated, things we don’t have. Our guns don’t even work all the time. It annoys me. There’s this joke they keep telling about some guy who was face-to-face with one of the rebels and his gun stopped working. The name of the guy changes each time they tell the story. Sometimes it’s Olumide, sometimes it’s Olujimi or Aramide or something, but I can almost swear it actually happened.

If I’m being realistic, there is no way in hell I'm coming out of this alive. We’re only six left and these people are still hunting us. So I guess this is actually goodbye. I don’t have any profound last words. You know I’m not good with these things. But you know that I’ve loved you since that day you walked up to me at the secretariat in your NYSC uniform. I was a little taken aback by your boldness, but I think I fell for you instantly. And I’ve been falling every day since then. I just want you to know now because I never said any of these things to your face. 

Please live your life. Don’t cry or anything. Wait, please cry. It would be weird if you didn’t.  Tell Yetunde I said hi and to take care of you and make sure you live. God knows I won’t. So live. For both of us. Have fun, Omalicha. I’ll be looking down at you all the time. Or up at you. Heh. Whichever one applies. But if you’re okay, I’ll be okay. 

 

Love always

Kenechukwu