Maniuiri; A fiction by a Nigerian Writer

The old town of Maniuiri used to have crowded streets, smiling inhabitants, beautiful weather and stunning evening market, the Shasharkary. But if you stepped into the town today, you would not recognize it as the same city great author Nugo described in his book of the world’s most lovely destinations.

The nation of Nakanani has endured a severe drought for the last five years. The country of the farmers had been wrecked; the oasis country had turned into a desert sandstorm, and Maniuiri fared worse. Maniuiri was at the heart of Nakanani; she lacked the most fabulous soil or the largest rice farm, for her soil could yield no vegetation, but it possessed people of diverse composition, all assembled in the city of dreams.

ALSO READ: My life almost went sour overnight

Anything you would ever want to own could be had in Maniuiri, a market town. The most beautiful fabrics, the most delectable perfumes, and the rouges that made men drool could be had in the Verceni district, the then-fashion capital of the world. And if you were looking for the things that weren’t for sale, they shouldn’t be sold because they were illegal in their own right; you could go to the Lazinta district.

It was named the greatest ale city in the world, but everyone knew that was just an illusion.

Lazinta was the black market of them all, darkest. Oooh and the Shasharkary, loveliest thing you could ever see as a market, sat at the center of Maniuiri. During the day, there was not much to be witnessed; all the shops were closed and the lighting was not that bright. But when the evening sun fell, the lanterns came up, and the sweet, meaty smell of barbecued meat wafted from the other side of town, and everyone knew that it was the hour of the Shasharkary.

There seemed to be a carnival every night in Maniuiri. As I said, the drought had hit Maniuiri the hardest; it couldn’t accommodate so many people. So they left her, everyone going to towns where they might manage a good meal. As Maniuiri didn’t have farmers; it also lost its traders. It was an empty town, you can still see the dusty lanterns at Shasharkary, waiting and silently begging to be lit once more.

At Lazinta, they did not even bother to hide the black market for it was the only destination where

business went on as normal. And at Verceni, there were no more women who would like to buy clothes or men who would like to buy rouges to make passes at other men. There were only things in sight to see, namely the starving kids – the boys and girls who were already orphans prior to the drought, and those that became orphaned as a result of the drought.

ALSO READ: Amelia Brooks: Journey Beyond the Stars

It was stated that when some parents could no longer feed their children, they left them at Verceni, in the hopes that the benevolent few who came to feed the beggars would.

Starving children would even feed their own. In the ruin that had swallowed up Maniuiri, there was one who would not abandon the once-great city; her name was Selene. She was a rugged woman with as big a heart as the town she called home. Selene was a street vendor in the Shasharkary for quite some time, selling homemade trinkets and foreign artefacts from distant lands. While others left the city, Selene stayed behind, determined to bring life to the heart of Maniuiri. She spent her days cleaning the Shasharkary lanterns of dust, rearranging her unsold items patiently, and waiting for better times to come. The once bustling market square is now filled with emptiness, and the empty streets appear to be lamenting the passing of the happy people who used to call them home.

Selene’s dedication was evident from a distance, and her unwavering spirit inspired some empathetic hearts that had left the town to return. With them, they formed a small community of individuals who would not let the shining light that is Maniuiri fade out. They began to clean the dilapidated streets, sew seeds in the desolate lands, and trying to revive the sense of togetherness that once made their city alive.

In Lazinta, where the black market had thrived, a group of erstwhile merchants decided to use their skills to wholesome ventures. They realized the merits of economic activity and established a cooperative to trade essentials like food, water, and medicine, importing the essentials into the city. The erstwhile illegal trade gave way to a legal market, bringing some semblance of order and trade into the neighborhood.

At the same time, in Verceni, a few of the courageous people volunteered to care for the orphaned children left behind by hopeless parents.

They established a temporary orphanage, feeding, housing, and offering hope to those who had lost so much. They even built a small school for the children, giving them hope for a promising future. One step at a time, the hungry. The kids of Verceni began to smile again, reassured by the kindness of strangers. They worked more than ever to regain the glowing beauty for which Maniuiri was renowned. When news of this reached great writer Nugo, he cried. Vowing to help the city Too, he wrote of the bravery and endurance of the Maniuiri people. He also helped to raise money for the school at Verceni.

Word of Maniuiri’s slow return spread outside its borders, reaching the philanthropists and the aid organizations. They recognized the potential of this resilient town and descended upon it with assistance in the form of resources, grants, and human capital. With the new assistance, the residents of Maniuiri worked together with the rest of the world to rebuild their city.

Maniuiri was far from what it had once been, but the seeds of hope and strength that Selene and her people planted grew. The city that had thrived from the diversity of its people was healing, and every person was a part of the return of its soul. The first rains fell after years of drought. As a token of rebirth, the people of Maniuiri were able to dream of better days to come.