By Kinsomebody Egbuchu (Abia writers) It was midnight, and I crawled atop a double cushion foam bed, my only bed. Immediately, tiny rain...
By Kinsomebody Egbuchu (Abia writers)
It was midnight, and I crawled atop a double cushion foam bed, my only bed. Immediately, tiny raindrops spattered on the roof, and cold air waffled into my one-room apartment. This apartment is my mansion, estate, etc. And in it, every morning I wake up, I heartily thank the Almighty God for the perfection of wholeness, the wholeness of perfection, and who He is.
So, when I dozed off, it looked like images of world phantasmagoria floated into my consciousness. I saw "Chains" surge their way towards me in the dream. And hidden hands dangled them menacingly from "Above." And behold, the "Chains" were far off. Still, in my conscious dream, I blinked, and the "Chains" floated nearer. I shrouded, and a loud bang sounded outside my door. Like a frightened stallion, I sprang up, and something heaved itself against the door.
Defensively, I ducked under the cushion foam, and the door crashed violently on top of it. Dark "Shadows" rushed into the room, and with them came a long, heavy "Chains" that lashed on me as the "Shadows" barked: "Chains from infiltrators."
Then, I came to recognize these 'Chains'. I realized that the 'Chains' draw their power from the Nigerian Government. After this first dream experience, I also came to the recognition that these 'Chains' are Biafran kinsmen sponsored by the Nigerian govt, who came after me and called me 'Idiotic' when I first declared my intention to restore Biafra. They worked tirelessly on the 'orders from the Nigerian government' against my dream. When I protested, the 'Shadows' (Britain) boldly and quickly replied that 'Nigeria' could not operate and have their way without my kinsmen taking the lead. When I realized this, I went home to tidy up things. But I did not give up. I stood my ground, ready to face whatever came my way.
Then came another excellent and sweet night. I folded myself into my double cushion foam, and off I dozed. Again, images of Biafra restoration rounded me. I was about singing down the heavens with those with the same ideology as me. And lo, "Chains" rushed me from all angles of my room.
This time, both "Shadows" (Britain), "Above" (Nigeria) and "Chains" (Infiltrators) were on my throat. I yelled, but violently, they handcuffed me, threw me inside a plane down to Nigeria, and landed violently inside a Nigerian Prison. I looked up, and it was the Nigerian politicians collaborating with Southeastern Politicians.
My Abuja contractor kinsmen united and spat on me, and I struggled as if I were on an "Idiotic" mission. When I yelled again for general help, there were none except the birds of the air, who carried my complaints to the outside world and watched my humiliation.
Since my Biafran restoration project, I have been hounded daily by my Biafran people in collaboration with that shadowy deity called "BRITAIN"
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