Kelemo was one of the "subversives" whose names were being read out on the corporal's radio as he advanced further into our room. The army man's boots stamped dirty imprints on the floor. I could hear the commotion as other soldiers rampaged through the tenement. I rose from the bed and held the cover to myself. The woman in the next room screamed at the top of her lungs and begged a soldier, please, don't, don't, don't. I heard the laughter as her cries were defeated into whimpers. No use begging hyenas, I thought. I promised myself that whatever would be taken from me, I would freely give, of my own will. The corporal's eyes traced a lusty line down the length of my body, and I allowed my cover-cloth to slip to the floor.
- Kelemo's Woman is published in Eclectica.
- Whilst you're over at Eclectica, you might want to check out this travel piece by Ike Anya - Going Home. The home in question being Nigeria.