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A Letter To My Ma, by Fatima Okhuosami

4/5/2017

 
You ask me how it is that Paapa never write all this time. I tell you all now and I telling it fact.

We get to Kano safe and meet the new smuggle man. He bribe the officers at Niger border and they letting us pass without no papers. We walk long long way till we reach the new village and our new smuggle man. We eating small food and drinking small water peoples give us or steal when nobody looking.

The new smuggle man ask us for extra but we no agree. He tell his mens we no want pay so, they and beat us bad and take half our money but, Paapa be telling the man he go to hell fire so, they break his head with bat and take all his money. I tell him no worry and be sharing my half with him.

We enter truck to Agadez next day and must hold the wood proper or we fall and die in Sahara desert and no one even be stopping to bury you or say the Lord’s over you. In Agadez, we wait four days for truck to Libya. We cannot see well cos of morning to night hot sun. You not knowing me; your first son if you see me that time. I looking like dried up corpse.

We hiding when rich mens come in their big big cars looking for slave. We looking right back when them poor Niger peoples squeezing nose mocking our ugliness.

We finally get truck and be on our way. The driver be telling us good things of Libya and how we be making money fast moving fine powder place to place. We pass three stop on the way and pay $5 for each. We reach next stop and the bandit people stop us.

All of us come down and lining up. $5 per person they shout. We all pay until it is Paapa turn to be giving his own but he start to shake.


​The bandit point his gun at him and shout;


"You no want to give Boubacar his money boy?"

"You be wanting to die for my desert?"

I run to Paapa and whisper ask for his money. Him telling me he spend it for Agadez when we wait for truck and I not around. He spend it on Coke and Porridge.

I having only $5 remaining for last stop and I cannot giving it for Paapa so I fall at Boubacar feet for hot dry ground and begging for mercy. I wetting the sand with my crying. He just start laughing crazy with his tobacco teeth and I be thinking he letting us go and I happy but he raise his gun and blow two bullet into Paapa head. I watching him fall and his life blood flow and I scream and scream till I not fit make a sound no more.

They say go now and we driving away. Nobody even be covering Paapa body.
Gordon Lawrie
4/5/2017 11:15:06 pm

Dazzling, Fatima. Welcome to Friday Flash Fiction.

Fatima Okhuosami
5/5/2017 05:13:49 pm

Thanks. I'm glad you like it. I had fun writing it.

Bobby Warner
28/5/2017 01:49:11 am

Little late getting around to reading this one--but well worth the wait! Very strong, realistic stuff, Fatima. Wonderfully graphic and timely. You'll go far as a writer. Hey, take my word for it! Excellent job.


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    Friday Flash Fiction is primarily a site for stories of 100 words or fewer, and our authors are expected to take on that challenge if they possibly can. Most stories of under 150 words can be trimmed and we do not accept submissions of 101-150 words.


    However, in response to demand, the FFF team constructed this forum for significantly longer stories of 151-500 words. Please send submissions for these using the Submissions Page.

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    One little further note. Posting and publishing 500-word stories takes a little time if they need to be formatted, too.
    ​Please note that we tend to post longer flash fiction exactly as we find it – wrong spacing, everything.

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