Dead Rose Flowers

What was left of him

Photo from Pexels by Patrick Porto

Edosa Evbuamere was the King of Uromi. He was my father and I had just been out of prison. I had to be good as the king’s daughter, as a princess. “Well, they got it covered, don’t they?” Spending six (6) years in jail for a crime I didn’t do. But they just had to tell the whole world that I went to study abroad. “For your good, wasn’t it?” At least, I had read while I was in there. A lot of business management. I wonder why I suddenly had an interest in that.

I had come out from the small cubicle. The place I’ve been strapped to for years now. I had come out to the long corridor that reeked of the wet damp sticky sweat of men who chose to work out and sweat like goats in the field. I had got out through the mesh wires away from the screams of little boys trapped in 40-year-old bodies. They reeked. They reeked and I was so sick of it! I had come out of the huge metal gate. I look back and smile more but I forced it because I knew I won’t ever come here again. I wasn’t. I will not. Anything that’ll bring me trouble I’d run in the opposite direction. If it’s going left. I’ll go right.

I had come out the iron door reeking of tangerine my prison mate always peeled. She and I were the only females in the prison. I guess our crimes were manly. But I didn’t do anything. I hate knives. That’s why it pissed me off anytime she brought it out. As if caressing those little orange things. Poor balls.

They said I had to take the bus. I had to take the bus! The Yimu line. They took half of the road that the government-owned. Why couldn’t they choose a proper park? I should have taken an Uber.

I get inside with people. I seemed to be the last passenger cos he started to fire the engine angrily like he’s been waiting for a very long time. The drive to my father’s palace wasn’t a long one. Or was it? Did I just sleep off? I couldn’t sleep. I can’t sleep when I’m in someone’s car. It just doesn’t work out for me. What if I was stolen?

I get to an ancient red huge house that had a touch of 'modernity' to it. Dad likes a bit of finesse. His being the king was just formality. He had occupied a seat in the senatorial house and I was released just for that reason. To be a face.

I push open the black metal gate that lets off its metal grayish handle. I put it back, just that small push won’t have spoilt it. I drag my 50kg flesh of a body over the cemented compound. And a lot of changes have been made. I found my way to the chief council room where my father exerts his authority. I had to kneel on the ash in front of the mud room. What sacrifice is going on? What is to be burnt? What has been burnt?

Oghosa, Vendez, Iwinosa, Osamudiamen, and my father’s most trusted chief, Osanohen came out. Gently, he lifts me off the floor and says how nice it was to see me.

'You’ve grown ooh. Six years has done this much wonder to your face ehn?'

'Uncle, good evening sir.'

'Ooh, my dear. Manners are not far from this one ehn.’

He chuckles. He turns to the other chiefs as he says his last sentence. I wish it was far. I wish I had truly done the deed not made to serve time for another.

Father looks at me in the living room where chandeliers do their bidding. Father briefs me on what to do at the House of assembly. Father looks me in the eye and says 'Get ready’. Father forgets to say thank you for serving his time.

This is the first part. I hope you enjoyed it. I’ll be posting the next one soon.