BCL

All I asked for was water, rather than attend to my needs, she chose to be a smart mouth. I was beginning to get infuriated by the madam's secretary and my demeanour voiced my sentiments. 'Is it so hard to fetch a glass of water to pacify my thirsty soul?', I asked.

The secretary stood before me looking really attentive as I barked out an order for a glass of water. 'Not a problem sir, what kind would you prefer? Sparkling or Still water sir?', she inquired. Ignorance immediately activated shame within me and I retorted, demanding for Sparkling water.

'Room temperature or Refrigerated?', she asked softly. At this point, my heart had begun to race. 'Which one is room temperature again?', I asked myself. The room was air-conditioned, so there was no clear difference between both. I opted for refrigerated being a man given to cold drinks.

The secretary turned away as if to leave, then she remembered something. 'One more thing sir', she said politely, "Would you favour bonbons or croissants after your drink?", she asked. Croi what? I had no idea what she was talking about and I could swear I heard bumbums. I brilliantly decided to go with the road less travelled by, since nobody would want to eat "bumbums"- I chose croissants.

I expected her to leave, yet she asked another question. 'Which would you prefer sir: Croissant au chocolat, L'orange, D'ananas or croissant brillé with a fondue'. I went blank at this point, none of these sounded familiar to me and I didn't want to embarrass myself any further.

Not seeming anywhere near the door, the secretary stood in front of me with her pen and notepad expecting an answer. I unconsciously said 'the one with the "fondu".' She scribbled something and asked, 'What kind of bonbon do you want thereafter'.

I thought we had already eradicated the "bumbums", I couldn't get why she brought it again. In the absence of what to say, I said bring anyone you have. By the time she fetched my glass of water, I wasn't even thirsty anymore. I drank the water and there was nothing special about it, it still felt like the normal water I was used to.

One thing I know, She surely put me in an awkward situation with her questions and the sea of choices she offered. The lesson I learnt here is to be outspoken when necessary. Imagine I told her from the onset that I just needed cold water and dismissed her immediately, Would it have come to this?

I also learnt that one has to be educated even after being schooled. Certain things can't be taught within the four walls of a classroom-this includes etiquette and social language. After being humiliated by the unsuspecting secretary, I vowed to learn about social exchanges and all that come with being well rounded.

Batousai

Loud cries filled the air to herald the entrance of a new baby into the world. Although it was hard to decipher between the mother's shrieks and the baby's wails, it was quite clear that things were not alright in that delivery room. The baby's wails were totally understandable, however the mother's prolonged shrieks remained a mystery.

The visibly weakened mother struggled with an outstretched hand, forcing the word 'Shinobi' forced out of her lips. She died shortly afterwards without even getting the chance to touch her own child. A sad silence overshadowed the room as Miyuki and her hand maidens cleaned up the mess on the floor.

Miyuki rocked the orphaned child from side to side pondering on what to do next. This kind of incident was not alien to her as she had 7 adopted sons in the past, all of whom lost their birth mothers to a similar fate. As usual, the identity of their fathers were unknown so she had to raise the children as if they were her own. 

The mother had mentioned 'Shinobi' before she died meaning the child should be called by that name. Shinobi wasn't a name anybody was called, it was a title given due to an occupation, its like christening a child 'Doctor'. On the other hand, no female ever bore the title 'Shinobi', how then could this girl ever be Shinobi? It was dilemma for Miyuki; causing her to go deeper in thought.

She called the child Natsumi, naming her after Tokushima's former most beautiful woman. Like this child, the original Natsumi took the life of her mother at birth and had no name. The midwife had to raise her all by herself amidst the jeers from friend and family.

Miyuki ensured Natsumi was treated like her other sons: raised with a hand of steel. She took swordsmanship and combat lessons everyday from age 3. By the time she was a teenager, she could best anybody in a combat and was inducted into the Cult of Warriors as the first woman in history to be summoned to this hallowed gathering.

Days became months and months became years, Natsumi blossomed into a very beautiful young woman with bright eyes, a powerful touch and an athletic physique. Her beauty was often misleading and many men often got beaten to a pulp if they misjudged her. Some of the lucky survivors had gory tales to tell about the impact of her strikes against their corpus.

One autumn evening, Miyuki was knocked down by Kazakage's convoy at an intersection while trying to cross the road. The imperial minister's horses came up from nowhere and stampeded the old woman. She was 65 years old when she met a gruesome death. Tokushima mourned for a while and soon she was forgotten, just like the others that died from such executive lawlessness.

Everyone forgot about Miyuki but not Natsumi. She was spewing hate against Kazekage and his government but she did nothing. The corruption, oppression and suppression was already unbearable but everyone endured in silence hoping change would come someday. She wanted to avenge the death of Miyuki who didn't even enjoy the courtesy of an apology/remorse from the camp of the minister.

Natsumi kept hearing the voice of Miyuki telling her that she had a purpose on the earth and she was different from every other woman.

No-one told her what she was created to do, all she knew was that she was made for a time. So Natsumi did nothing and moved on with her life occasionally foaming in the mouth against the government in her small Dunga as she waited for the time to fulfil her purpose.

In no time, Kazekage's son became imperial minister and was more cruel than his father. Life became so bad that the people of Tokushima were as slaves even within their own country and on the other hand, Natsumi grew old and weak.

She eventually died of a typhoid and never amounted to much. Her greatest achievement was when she was 18 and announced the fiercest female warrior that ever lived.

Are you still waiting for the time to make a difference? I hope you don't wait forever.

The Legend of the Seeker III

I ran eastwards as fast as my legs could carry me and shouted 'Revren' just like the lad said. The people looked at me strangely, knowing I was not from Izundu, they wondered what was going on. By the time I got to the white man's god, the whole village had heard about me and had come out to see from themselves.

The white man's god came out and he was white too. He wore white garments and leather sandals. His voice was mild and his hands were as if he never tilled the land before. He touched my face and said something in a language I could not understand. Another strangely dressed native told me what the god said in my dialect, I was shocked.

'Don't be afraid Ugaba, you would not be disturbed again', he said. Nobody knew me by Ugaba since I lost my family, everyone simply called me Jabu (meaning the accursed). 'How did he know my name and how did he know I was disturbed?, I asked. The interpreter relayed his reply and said 'I have known you even from your mother's womb'. I still did not know what was going on.

 The white man's god knew everything and was kind too. I was not used to this kind of god. The gods I had served in the past were heartless and always sought revenge and blood but this god invited me into his shrine and took care of me. He gave me clothes like his and food like the one he ate. He kept giving me things and never asked me for yams or goats or oil palm or human heads.

One day, the white man's god asked me for my life, I thought he wanted to kill me. Even though I was free from the spirit that tormented me and I owed my life to the white man's god, I didn't want to lose it. He told me that I can only gain my life by losing it first; I wasn't even ready to be re-incarnated.

He took time to teach me how to give him my life, I discovered I didn't even have to die. All I did was say a short prayer and I had given him my life. Everything was easy with the white man's god, my crops grew fast, my goats reproduced rapidly and even the beautiful daughter of the town crier had eyes for me.

The white man's god taught me everything even though he taught me only one lesson: he taught me to love. Everyday he taught me how to love and be loved till he left us. Even though he is not with us anymore, he sent another that is like him to stay with us.

The white man's god's replacement taught me how to read and write and speak the white man's language. He also gave me the paper and the ink, that is why you are reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it.