Unforgettable History

Clara strolled down the hallways, her glasses firmly fixed on her eyes as the breeze blew rapidly, sending chills down her spine.

A smile sneaked across her face as she remembered the good and bad days of her youth when she saw two little children arguing over a toy.

She walked towards them as they were both engrossed in their argument.

"Hello, kids..." she interrupted.

The kids turned to her, panting.

"Miss Clara, it's mine!" the older one whined, clutching the toy to herself.

"You're lying! It's mine. You borrowed it!" the other girl yelled, trying to drag the toy away.

"It's alright, kiddos! How about this?" she said with a smile, watching their reactions as the children turned and waited eagerly to hear what she had to say.

Clara took the toy and handed it to the younger child.

"But..."

"Shhh!" she immediately hushed her with a warm smile. "Is she your age mate, Precious?" she asked.

"No, Miss Clara," the older girl, Precious, answered grumpily, her face scrunched up.

"Come here, honey..." Clara placed her hands on her shoulders and squatted to her level. "Darling, a time will come when this toy won't be so important to you. The older you grow, the more responsibilities you'll have. I thought she was your friend?" she asked gently.

Precious nodded, staring at her friend Miracle as a slight smile crept onto her lips.

"Now tell me, darling, is it right to share things with your friends?" Clara asked.

"Yes, it is," Precious replied, lowering her face in guilt as she fidgeted with the hem of her gown.

"Then why are you dragging it? When she's done with it, she'll give it back to you. That's what friends do. They don't spoil your things or do things that hurt you, okay?" she reassured her.

Precious raised her head and smiled broadly.

"Yes, Miss."

Clara turned to Miracle with a fake frown.

"Hope you'll return it?" she asked.

Miracle stared at the toy, then at Precious, and back at Clara.

"Yes, I will," she responded softly.

"Good girl. And don't spoil it, okay?" Clara smiled, gently patting her head.

"Yes, Miss," Miracle replied happily.

She walked to her friend and nudged her gently.

"I won't spoil it, I promise."

Her words made Precious smile.

Clara watched the children leave with a smile. If only she could rewind time. If only her past had been as perfect as theirs, she wouldn't have had so many regrets.

"Miss Clara?"

She heard her name from behind and felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Yes?" she responded.

"Jeez, I've been calling your name. Where's your mind?" Mrs. Annabel, her colleague, teased.

"Ugh, I'm sorry. I'm just a little stressed out," Clara replied with a warm smile.

"Oh, sorry about that. Ma'am asked me to call you. It's time for the meeting. Hope everyone has gone home?" she asked.

"Yes, they have. Thanks. Let's go then," Clara said as they walked towards the meeting hall.

The meeting went smoothly as the proprietress corrected their faults.

Later, Clara left for home feeling slightly dizzy.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

She heard her children's voices as they rushed towards her.

Angel, David, Michael, and Sophia were her four children.

"Uhm, Mum, Sophia has been whining. She wouldn't eat her Golden Morn," Angel complained as soon as they reached her.

"And is that your good afternoon?" Clara retorted.

"Sorry, Mum. Good afternoon," Angel corrected with a sheepish giggle.

"So you can't even take care of your younger sister? How will you take care of yourself when you get to university?" Clara questioned, carrying Sophia.

"But Mum..."

"Don't 'but Mum' me! Just look at your sister. Has she had her bath? Has she done her assignments? No! You're eighteen, for crying out loud. This shouldn't be happening, and you know it!" Clara half-yelled.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Angel apologized, shooting daggers at Sophia, which Clara ignored.

"So, how are you all?" she asked, pulling Michael close and kissing his forehead.

"We're good," they replied in unison while Sophia played with Clara's hair.

They all walked inside. Clara dropped Sophia down and rushed into the bathroom for a shower.

She couldn't help but smile as the cool water touched her skin.

Gosh! I wish life were as calm and refreshing as this.

When she was done, she got dressed, applied light makeup, and walked downstairs into the sitting room.

Her younger children were watching their favourite cartoon channel while Angel sat alone, engrossed in a Kung Fu movie on her phone.

Clara walked to the dining table and uncovered the food placed there.

"Is this mine?" she asked.

"Yes, Mum!" Angel replied without taking her eyes off the screen.

Clara sighed and sat down to eat.

The day had already been hectic.

Her fork fought its way through the noodles as she devoured them.

"Mum?" David, her fifteen-year-old son, called suddenly.

"Hmm?" came her response.

"Could you tell us a story?" he asked with pleading eyes.

Clara stopped chewing for a moment and looked at him.

"What kind of story do you want to hear?" she asked, still chewing.

"A story about you!" he grinned, unaware of the shocked expression on his mother's face.

She froze for a moment, trying to process his words.

"What did you say?" she asked in disbelief.

"I said—"

"Will you shut up?" Angel cut him off rudely.

"It's alright," Clara sighed, interrupting the children as she set down her fork.

"How about you all come to the dining table, and I'll tell you a brief history of my life, if that's what you want?"

The others immediately turned away from the television.

"I want to hear it too!" Michael pouted.

"Sure. Come on, everyone."

They all rushed to the dining table, including Angel, though she seemed reluctant.

"Alright, so I'm going to tell you my life story, and I hope you learn something from it," Clara said as she looked at her eager children.

Their ears seemed ready to reach her mouth if they could. Only Angel remained distracted by her phone.

"Angel..." Clara cleared her throat, gaining her attention.

"This story is mainly for you. I've raised you to this stage, and you'll soon be leaving for university. I won't be there every moment, and neither will your future husband."

Angel immediately dropped her phone.

"But Mum, I already—"

"You don't know anything. Not even a quarter of it," Clara interrupted.

Angel sighed and folded her arms with a frown.

"Alright, everyone," Clara said with a smile, looking at her younger children.

"My story goes like this..."

We had just moved to a town called Iyo-Rong in Andoni, Rivers State, and things quickly turned upside down for our family.

We had been quite wealthy when we lived in a more developed town than this remote island. Poverty was widespread here, leading to high rates of theft, kidnapping, cultism, murder, and all sorts of audacious crimes.

"Mum, how long are we going to stay here?" Francis, the first son of Mr. and Mrs. Chima Paulinus, asked in frustration as he looked around.

Little Annabella, Clara, Helene, Isabella, and Samuel simply stared at the strange surroundings in confusion. They had never lived in a place like this before.

Clara gently patted her younger brother Samuel to sleep in order to avoid any disturbance while the others unpacked.

Mrs. Chima sighed as she pulled out a bag.

"Honey, don't worry. Things will be fine. Let's go inside," she said with a warm smile.

Francis still looked unconvinced.

"But Mum..."

"Enough of it, Francis!" she cut him off sharply, trying hard to control her anger.

"Alright, everyone, let's go inside," their father said from behind them as he carried a heavy bag of clothes.

After arranging their belongings, they all sighed in relief.

"I'll be going out to meet some new friends I made. Maybe we can get something out of it," Mr. Chima finally said as he stood up.

Mrs. Chima nodded while the children stared blankly at him.

He left, and immediately the children turned to their mother.

"Where is he going?" they asked in unison.

"To work, of course. He was transferred here while still serving as a corporal. You don't expect him to abandon his job, do you?" their mother explained.

"Oh, I see," Francis replied, leaning back in his chair.

Clara watched her mother carefully. She knew her mum wasn't telling them the whole truth, but asking questions would only annoy her further.

Quietly, she walked over to Samuel and gently patted him as he slept.
"Alright, let me prepare something for you all to eat before your father arrives," Mrs. Chima said as she walked out of the room.

As she stepped outside, she accidentally bumped into the landlord.

"Aww, sorry. I didn't mean to!" she apologized immediately.

"Nah, nah, it's okay," the old man waved it off quickly.

Curious, Clara rushed over to see who her mother was talking to.

The man looked old, yet surprisingly strong. Clara watched him closely, feeling uneasy for reasons she couldn't explain.

"Hello, little girl," he said, flashing a broad smile.

Clara instinctively stepped back. The strong smell of snuff and alcohol nearly made her wrinkle her nose.

She rubbed her nose with her index finger while the old man kept staring at her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

Noticing Clara's uneasiness, Mrs. Chima quickly interrupted.

"Uhm, landlord, how is your family?"

"Oh, they're fine. Well, I'm all alone now. My wife is dead, and my children are abroad," he replied with a grin.

Clara felt a chill run through her body as she looked at him.

This man is so creepy, she thought.

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Chima replied politely.

She gently nudged Clara back into the room and closed the door behind her.

Clara paced around the room restlessly. Even with the door shut, she couldn't shake off the strange feeling the old man had left behind.

"What's he still doing there?" she muttered.

She peeked through the wooden window.

To her surprise, the landlord was still standing outside.

His face looked tense, his eyes strangely fixed on the door. His lips moved rapidly as though he were muttering something under his breath.

Clara strained her ears, but she couldn't make out a single word.

"Oga Landlord!"

Her mother's voice suddenly rang out.

The old man jerked as though he had been caught doing something wrong.

"Ah! I'm leaving, I'm leaving," he stammered before hurriedly walking away.

Mrs. Chima watched him disappear into his apartment.

She shook her head.

"God forbid. Anything I don't know will never know me or my children," she whispered to herself before walking inside.

Before her mother entered, Clara quickly left the window and sat on a nearby chair.

She noticed her mother silently praying under her breath while repeatedly shaking her head.

Soon, dinner was ready.

Mrs. Chima served rice to her six children, and they all ate while waiting for their father's return.
Mr. Chima arrived with his friends, chatting excitedly. They poured all kinds of sea creatures into a large basin and began sorting them.

"Francis! Anna! Clara! You people should come outside! Your dad is back!" their mother called.

The children rushed outside.

"Wow... gross!" Anna exclaimed in disgust.

Francis immediately smacked the back of her head.

"As if you won't eat it later," he said.

"But it looks irritating," Clara chipped in.

"That's because it just came straight from the sea. It hasn't been sorted yet. Come on, join them. Separate the fish, octopus, crayfish, and prawns. And don't stain your clothes," Mrs. Chima instructed.

The children exchanged reluctant looks before squatting down to help. They sorted the sea creatures alongside the older men, who couldn't stop chatting and laughing.

Before long, they were finished.

Mrs. Chima cooked some of the octopus and served it to the men. The children watched with watering mouths, hoping to get a taste.

Unfortunately, their mother served them crab soup instead.

"Yikes! Isn't there any better meat than this?" Annabella complained while chewing a crab leg.

"It's made that way. Stop complaining and eat your food," Francis replied.

Clara simply watched them argue. One thing she loved about herself was that she wasn't picky when it came to food. Everything eventually ended up in the stomach anyway.

She quietly ate her crab while Annabella continued whining and Francis kept teasing her.

After dinner, everyone ate to their fill. Mr. Chima's friends returned to their various homes, and the family prepared for bed.

---

"Meow... meow..."

Clara's eyes snapped open.

She sat upright immediately and looked around the dark room.

There was nothing.

Slowly, she lay back down.

"Meow... meow..."

The sound came again.

"The blood of Jesus!"

She heard her mother's frightened voice.

Mrs. Chima sprang to her feet and immediately began praying while lighting candles.

Clara watched silently.

Why must that sound come here too?

It was the same strange sound they had heard in their former compound back in town.

Why was it happening again?

The thought unsettled her.

She didn't want another round of sleepless nights.

Their former compound had been terrifying enough.

Almost every night, strange noises echoed through the darkness. Mysterious lights flashed around their room, and unexpected knocks rattled the gates and doors.

Many nights, the frightened tenants would gather for impromptu prayer vigils.

Clara didn't want any of that here.

She wanted peace.

She wanted sleep.

Why did every place they moved to seem troubled?

Mrs. Chima continued praying for a long time.

Eventually, the strange sound disappeared.

Relieved, Clara drifted back to sleep.

* * * Next Morning * * *

Mrs. Chima woke her six children for morning prayers, which they observed together before beginning their daily chores.

"Landlord, good morning," Mrs. Chima greeted warmly as soon as she stepped outside.

The old man turned and glared at her before looking away again.

"Ahh, what's wrong with him?" she muttered to herself.

"Landlord..."

"I don't need your greeting! Ah-ah!" he snapped angrily.

Mrs. Chima frowned.

"Are we quarreling?" she asked in confusion.

The old man simply adjusted himself in his chair and continued staring at her.

"Ha! God, please help me," she sighed before walking away.

After finishing their chores, the children gathered inside to watch movies on their father's phone since there was no electricity.

"All of you should listen," Mrs. Chima interrupted.

Francis groaned.

"If you try that nonsense with me again, I'll slap you," she warned sternly.

"Sorry, Mum," Francis replied immediately.

"You people should be careful in this compound. I'm going out now to see if I can locate our church around here. Maybe we'll start attending and give this man some space."

The children nodded.

"None of you should go outside until I return. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mum," they replied.

"Good. I'm going now."

She left immediately.

The children exchanged looks before returning to their movie.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Who's in the house?" came their landlord's voice.

Francis stood up immediately, but Clara grabbed his arm.

"Mum said we shouldn't go outside, remember?" she reminded him.

Francis hesitated.

"So we're just going to ignore him?" Helene asked.

"Yes. That's the best idea," Clara replied.

Helene rolled her eyes and hurried to the door before anyone could stop her.

She opened it.

"Ah, little girl! I thought nobody was at home. Where are your siblings?" Mr. Godfrey asked.

"They're inside," Helene answered.

"Alright then. I just wanted to check up on you children."

He smiled, pinched her cheek lightly, and patted her head.

"Good girl."

Then he left.

The moment Helene shut the door, Clara rounded on her.

"Seriously? Helene, are you okay?"

"He only came to check on us. What's the big deal?" Helene huffed as she collapsed onto the bed.

"Mum warned us not to answer the door, didn't she?" Francis said.

"But he—"

"Will you keep quiet?" Annabella cut in with a hiss.

"I'm sorry," Helene whispered, lowering her head.

"I'll still tell Mum," Clara declared firmly.

Helene scoffed.

Francis shook his head while Annabella remained silent.

Not long afterward, Mrs. Chima returned.

"Why isn't the door locked?" she asked immediately after greeting them.

"Helene answered the landlord!" Clara blurted out.

Mrs. Chima frowned.

"I don't understand."

"After you left, the landlord came. Helene opened the door and talked to him despite your warning," Clara explained.

Mrs. Chima's expression darkened.

"What did I tell you before I left?"

Before Helene could answer, a sharp slap landed on her cheek.

"Mum! I'm sorry—"

"Sorry for what?" Mrs. Chima interrupted angrily. "You people don't know anyone in this place, yet you're behaving carelessly!"

Helene burst into tears.

"This should be the first and last time I hear such a report."

She sat down and opened the nylon bag she had brought with her.

Inside were several fruits.

"Francis, get me a bowl, some water, and a knife."

Still upset, she watched Helene, who sat quietly with tears in her eyes.

Francis quickly obeyed.

Mrs. Chima washed the fruits and shared them among the children.

Mrs. Chima sat on a wooden bench, sorting dried melon seeds when Francis walked up to her.

"Mum, aren't we supposed to start school? We're already two weeks late," Francis complained.

Mrs. Chima paused what she was doing and looked up at him.

"You and your younger sister will start next week in Asarama," she explained.

"You both are already in secondary school, so it will be better for you there."

"What about Clara, Helene, Isabella, and Samuel?" he asked.

"Well, Samuel is still a baby. Clara and Helene will attend the public school here, while Isabella can go to the nursery school close to the house."

"Oh."

Francis muttered his disappointment and walked away.

Clara, who had been eavesdropping the entire conversation, hissed in annoyance.

A public school?

Seriously?

She missed her friends already.

Most especially her best friend, who always made her laugh with her silly antics.

Ugh! Making new friends is boring.

With a frustrated sigh, she went back inside.

* * * Later That Day * * *

Clara yawned and stretched before opening her eyes.

She glanced around and found all her siblings still asleep.

Humph.

The sound of laughter outside caught her attention.

Curious, she hurried out of the room.

As soon as she stepped outside, she saw her parents sitting with one of her father's friends.

"Good afternoon, Mum. Good afternoon, Dad," she greeted, yawning again.

"Hungry?" her mother asked.

Clara smiled and nodded.

She turned to the visitor.

"Good afternoon, sir."

"Good afternoon, young lady. How are you?"

"I'm fine, sir."

She headed towards the kitchen.

"The food in the white plate is yours. Don't touch the others!" her mother called after her.

Clara laughed softly and went to wash the dirty plates in the sink.

When she finished, she sat down to eat.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden voice startled her.

She turned and saw Francis standing there, still looking sleepy.

"Hmm?" she mumbled after swallowing her food.

"I'm eating."

"Is that yours?" he asked, yawning as he searched for his own meal.

"Yeah. Mum said it's mine."

Francis nodded and began eating.

"Gosh! I still don't understand this new fishing lifestyle Dad has adopted. This place sucks."

Clara immediately agreed.

"I thought I was the only one who hated it here. No meat, no proper food, just garri and fresh seafood all the time. So annoying."

Then she smiled sheepishly.

"Although the fish is actually tasty. Especially that devil ray."

"Yeah, kind of," Francis admitted.

"I still can't believe Dad got transferred here. Four years feels too long."

"Four years?" Clara nearly choked.

"Don't you know how to pray for miracles? Two years is more than enough. I hate this place."

Francis burst out laughing.

"Do you really hate it that much?"

"I do."

"Alright then. We'll see."

Clara rolled her eyes.

"Hungry pig," she muttered before walking away.
"Clara, I'm hungry," her little sister, Isabella, whined as she slid down from the bed.

"Go to the kitchen then. Big Brother is there eating," Clara replied as she walked outside.

"Anything I can help with, Mum?" she asked, settling onto a stool.

"Yeah, if you can. Just don't let the prawns hurt you," her mother replied.

Clara scoffed inwardly.

"No problem," she said, bending down to sort the mixed fish.

Her parents continued discussing in their dialect, which Clara understood perfectly, though they assumed she didn't.

After a while, a woman walked into the compound.

"Ah, ma'am! You people are doing this too?" she asked with a warm smile.

Mr. Chima chuckled.

"When you're with the Romans, you act like one. Or am I wrong?"

He adjusted himself on the bench to create space for her.

"It is true," the woman replied as she sat down.

"Madam, how far now? When are you bringing them? We have service today."

"Oh, we'll come on Sunday. It's their first time here, and most of them are already asleep," Mrs. Chima explained.

"Oh, I see."

"No problem. I just came to check on you people before leaving."

"Thank you. God bless you," Mrs. Chima replied warmly.

"Alright then, I'll be on my way."

The woman stood up and turned to Clara.

"Fine girl, hope you'll come to church on Sunday?"

Clara looked up innocently.

"Yes, I will."

"Good. Bye then."

She waved and walked away.

"Who's that?" Mr. Chima asked.

"A deaconess from Assemblies of God Church. I met her while looking for a church around here. Since it's the most accessible one nearby, I agreed to attend. She followed me home so she could know our address."

"Oh, I see," Mr. Chima replied.

Just then, another voice interrupted them.

"Good evening."

Everyone looked up.

It was the landlord.

"Oh, good evening, sir," Mr. Chima greeted with a smile.

"Good evening, sir," Mrs. Chima added politely.

Clara simply stared at the skinny old man.

"Are you people sorting fish?" he asked.

As he spoke, he bent slightly and reached toward Clara.

Instinctively, Clara pushed his hand away.

The old man looked surprised.

"Ah! Are we quarreling?"

"Don't touch me," Clara said firmly.

"Clara!" her father barked.

"Don't you have respect?"

Before Clara could explain herself, her mother intervened.

"Clara, go inside."

Without another word, Clara hurried into the house and slammed the door behind her.

Through the window, she caught sight of the old man's face.

His expression had darkened.

Moments later, he left without saying another word.

Soon afterward, her parents began arguing about what had happened.

Clara sighed and collapsed onto the bed.

She hated it whenever her parents quarreled.

A few moments later, Helene crawled onto the bed beside her.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hmm?" Clara responded.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Just a minor issue."

Helene narrowed her eyes.

"A minor issue?"

"Helene!" Clara snapped.

The warning in her voice was enough.

"Sorry," Helene apologized quickly.

Clara stared into space, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she heard her father's voice from outside.

"Uhm... Maxwell will be coming to stay with us."

Clara's eyes widened.

What?!

"Meaning?" her mother's voice shot back immediately.

"Listen now. My brother can't handle him anymore, so-"

"Is he not his son?" Mrs. Chima interrupted sharply.

"When that boy stayed with us before, all we heard were complaints. Now you want to bring him back again?"

"It's my brother we're talking about," Mr. Chima defended.

"Please keep it to yourself," she cut in.

"Your brother, your brother. You'll keep receiving insults because of that family."

"Woman, stop it! Leave my family out of this!"

"And when did I insult them?" she fired back.

"I'm warning you now."

Clara released a tired sigh.

Soon they would be shouting at each other.

It had become part of their daily routine.

Turning to the wall, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

Clara opened her eyes and stretched.

Something felt wrong.

Immediately, she sat up and looked around.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She was no longer at home.

Instead, she stood inside an unfinished building.

The floor beneath her feet was bare earth.

Slowly, she got up.

A wooden cross-shaped stick lay on the ground nearby.

Her heart skipped a beat.

It looked exactly like a grave marker.

Suddenly, realization struck her.

This was a graveyard.

Clara gasped and rushed outside.

The air was cold.

Too cold.

The silence was unsettling.

She turned around.

The room she had just left was gone.

Only crumbling walls remained.

Fear gripped her chest.

She kept moving, searching desperately for a way out.

But every room she entered led to another grave.

And another.

And another.

The darkness stretched endlessly in every direction.

"What is happening?" she whispered.

Panic flooded her body.

She searched desperately for an escape but found none.

Then she heard it.

"Clara... Clara..."

Her mother's voice.

"Mum?"

Everything around her suddenly became blurry.

"Clara, wake up!"

The voice sounded closer now.

"Mum!"

"Clara!"

She sprang upright with a gasp.

Sweat soaked her body.

"Ah-ah! What happened?" Mrs. Chima asked as she sat beside her.

Clara wiped the sweat from her face.

"I'm fine, Mum."

The dream still lingered vividly in her mind.

She didn't want to worry her mother.

Besides, there was nothing anyone could do about a dream.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Chima asked.

"Yes."

Mrs. Chima nodded and gently patted her shoulder.

"Alright then. Let me prepare something for you people to eat. You can go back to sleep afterward."

She stood and walked away.

Clara lay back down, folding her legs.

Gosh.

It was only a dream.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

"It is well," she whispered.