*The Diary of Mazi

HIS WIFE JUST ARRIVED UK VIA HEATHROW AIRPORT

The painless journey and sojourn of many men Diasporaned to sorrow and agonies of joy. Men who left their families traveled at the greatest risk of their youthful lives.

They arrive, rejected, scorned, hated by the same people they read are civilized.

They arrive to learn that their names have been replaced by one spiteful name “nigger”. They brace the storms, the cold, and snows of pneumonia; find a jobless acceptable to their graduate levels; just to make a start.

They share a room, save up all their monies, run home to find their missing trouble, disguised as a wife.
They celebrate her arrival with joy and happiness.

One year down the line they invite all to their son or daughter’s christening. They name him Chukwuebuka( God is Great) Chizaram or Chinonso.

Suddenly!! the shackles of intelligence and home trainning falls. She becomes “wise”, enjoys the company of the adolescent’s single mothers of UK. They take her to the alter of dissolution, the dance place of fornication. They baptise her with the young sinners of London and then battle of lies and slaps starts.

He is chased from his own house, house bought from his sweat and cold nights of UK streets.

She is happy, and spreads her wonderful legs to welcome and enjoy the Ubers of men without conscience that parade London. Men whose lives and souls have been layed “moraless” by the sins and iniquities of the mothers, visited upon the third generations of them that hate the Lord.

Today he is regarded as a criminal because she has informed the police of all things good, evil and fabricated.

Now he walks the bushes, like a criminal, walking so slow, like a predator just to get a glimpse of his son as he plays in the playground without a father.

Whenever he is alone and misses his child badly, he would walk around the park looking at little boys and girls playing with their fathers.

Tears come down his face. He remembers that there are lots of stories he would love to share with his son. He thinks of lots of games, he would like to play with his child. Tears drip down onto his happy face.

He wonders which man his child will call “UNCLE” this night. How many more men to grace her bed before they reach Eighteen? Will his daughter be like her mother when she grows?

He recalls how her friends tell her to speak to her Lawyers and educate her on the lies she will the lawyer, she lies to the police he is not good around his own children.

The lawyers speak to the judges, add more lies to the lies she has lied to.

The judges nod their heads; they give a letter that keeps the man away from his children. A smile of treachery blimps her triumphant face of evil accomplishment. Her friends rejoice as they party the next weekend to celebrate the destruction of another Igbo family.

He is very sad, kisses his son goodbye, promising never to be far from him. She sells his house, travels to Dubai, buys a good car, finds another man, invests the money on the gold digger, he takes all the money and runs to Manchester.

She is moved to the ghetto is single mothers called council housing. Home of 4000 people in 6 story building. The incubator of gangsters.

“Her son” grows among children of gang iniquity, he learns how to slang, buys a knife, he carries a gun. He is now the lord of the postcode, no father to guide him, he stabs and runs, CCTV picks him up, the police are called in, they speak to the Judge who nods, the judge gives the police a letter, the police gives the letter to the warder, the warder takes him to prison. One life is gone and wasted.

Next door his friends are stabbed, people scream, they apply first aid. They are all on their phones calling the Ambulance and the police that took him away from his father.

They asked questions. They realise they are black youths, the response is very slow and delayed, passersby are anxious. Then he pant for his last breath, the ghost is given up, ambulance arrives. They cover him with a black cloth. Another Victim of Black on Black crime.

His death becomes a simply statistic on the crime rate. In the first 100 days of 2021, 52 were killed in the capital, many of which were stabbings with an increase of 44%.

Another British Airways flight arrives at Heathrow bringing another knife, sorry, “Wife” that is prepared to cut another black soul to pieces.

The rancorous circle of Full Divorce Development Lifestyle (FDDL) continues as we receive another invitation to celebrate her arrival.

Mazi phone rings, another Igbo victim in a psychiatric hospital, next letter is for next prison visitation to console our brother and attempt to understand why “He Did it”

The journey is painless. The suffering is real but who cares as long as they send money home.

Mazi Obi Okoli-OjeluIgbozi
(The Voice of the Ancestors)
▪️The writer, an author, has lived in London for many years observing the tragedy that a breakdown of family values imposes on the husband, the wife, the children and society at large.

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