My ears followed the noise of those children playing hide and seek under the moonlight.
Staring through the window, I saw them running and looking for concealment before their seeker finished the count.
I wanted to put an end to it, but my words expired in my throat. I shuddered, because that noise reminded me of you. Our hide and seek game. Our last drama that ended in tragedy.
Water formed in my eyes; I squeezed them shut. When I opened them again, I couldn’t restrain the rivers falling down my cheeks.
As I fixed my attention outside again, I hearkened back to that night when we were very young. When you were my brother. Your face remained unforgettable, even though I didn’t get to see how it would look now if you were here.
That night, we were playing hide and seek with other children. You wore a reddish ankara, exactly the same as mine.
We played far into the night until I became the last seeker. You entered the nearby bush to hide, and I, determined to catch you. I searched, but you were nowhere. The game ended. You didn’t return.
The news exploded fast. Soon, the community was out, searching for you. The search continued, night to dawn, dawn to dusk, and lasted for days, until every hope died.
Your mother wailed; your father sought in silence. The air was filled with sorrow.
Everybody found nothing, but that night, I found your ankara soaked in blood. I dreaded the sight, and I wasn’t sure about everything. What happened to you? I wept.
Nobody must know. I buried your clothes in the earth and inside me, because this secret would follow me to my grave.
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Abdulsamad Jimoh is a writer, lawyer, and avid reader from Nigeria. He adores crafting stories that delve deeper into the complexities and intricacies of human existence. His works have appeared in WSA Magazine, Reedsy, and elsewhere. He is the winner of the TEBEBA School of Writing Challenge 2024.
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Read – Under-ageing – A Flash Fiction by Tobiloba Owoeye – Nigeria
