CHASM

r: Peace Ozavize Emmanuel( P

They came in the dead of the night, long after chriping crickets and croaking toads had gone to sleep. Doóse had stumbled through the dark hut, which she shared with her sister, and out into the compound which was dimly illuminated by the crescent shaped moon. Her stomach continued to make certain unpleasant rumbles, one she'd come to associate with Mfená's cooking; one that sent her scurrying to the pit toilet at close intervals.
She got into the tiny zinc cubicle and shut the door. Pushing aside the flat piece of wood that served as a cover for the latrine, she positioned herself with feet spread out and settled down to the job of relieving herself in peace. There was a reason it was called the restroom, it didn't matter what form it took. She closed her eyes, savouring the feel as the waste came running out in watery squirts. That was when she heard the first scream a distance away. She stiffened, eyes wide open and willed herself to swallow the huge lump of panic that lodged itself firmly in her throat. She had heard about the cattle killed earlier during the week and hadn't believed the boys who'd sworn that the custodians of the cattle would come for their pay. A gunshot followed and then there was silence.
Doóse remained still, the silence punctuated only by her quiet but steady breathing. She wondered if she should go get papa. He would know what to do. She hoped. The sound of heavy footsteps filled her compound before she had time to decide. She heard papa's hoarse voice, thick with sleep, asking who it was. Always ready to defend his family, she could picture him struggling to tie his wrapper around his thin waist as he dragged himself outside his hut. Another gunshot sounded and Doóse shut her eyes, trying not to think of what might have happened. Loud screams filled the night air, then followed in quick successions by more gunshots and more screams. She heard her sister, Terember's voice first and then it went silent just as Mama's own rang out clear and then it was silenced too. Doóse clamped her hand over her mouth but couldn't stop the torrents of tears that flowed down her face. Mfena's came last. Then the sound of receeding footsteps and then silence.
  Should she go out now? She wondered. A part of her didn't want to though; didn't want to see her family's lifeless forms sprawled on the brown Benue soil. She found her lips moving, praying that the night would end soon and that morning would find her alive.