HiveComb

Living in a military base forced us to be familiar with certain abbreviations; some of these abbreviations include MIA (missing in action) and KIA (killed in action). They are really not nice things to hear, but the fact that we live in a military base, it became a daily routine, especially when the insurgency in the northern part of Nigeria first started. Every day, we had soldiers, people's fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons, go missing in action, and the news of their missing or their demise must be brought home to the families who are looking forward to their return.

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Every family living within the base whose father has been deployed always prays and hopes for his safe return as well as prays against other uniformed men coming to tell them any of the above abbreviations, as kids knowing all these abbreviations and understanding military alphabets and slang makes you feel like the main character in an action movie, but when told some of them, it will break you.

We hardly had our fathers around, as they are always out serving the country with little or no time for their families, but whenever they are around, they try to make it worthwhile so much that even kids can spot the difference between when they are around and when they are not. Since we feared our fathers being deployed, we learned to live with it and accepted that it was our fate; all we hoped for was their safe return.

Our fears tend to catch up with us, and my dad and my friend's dad were deployed to the same location for the first time. It was fun and easy because you can easily call any of them, and from one person, you will hear how the other person is faring, too.

"Hey Isaac, please call your father and ask him why my dad is not picking up or so I can talk to my dad using your dad's phone," I said to Isaac since both our dads were in the same location

"Now you are feeling like you have the right to talk to my father anytime you want." Isaac teased as he dialed his father's number, but it was the same thing; he was not picking up either.

Since we knew they were both in the same location, there is no way both of them will be far from their phones. We got scared and worried, as the only reason both of them will not pick up is because either they are being attacked or they are the ones launching one, and at the end of both scenarios playing in our heads, there will be casualties.

We left where we were and headed home, but found both our mothers sitting sadly and with long faces, the look on their faces confirmed what we thought.

"Mom, why the looks on your faces?" We both asked with a teary eye.

"Don't cry; they are fine. It's just that Isaac's mom was on the phone with his dad when an attack was launched on their location. We will hear from them once they can repel the attack." My mom cheered us up as she hugged us both.

The entire day was a sad one; we all sat waiting for a call from any of them but got none until almost midnight, when my dad called, and by then Isaac and his mom had gone home to be with his younger siblings.

"Is Isaac's mom there?" My dad asked over the phone, breathing and panting like someone who had run a marathon.

"No, she is not here, but are you okay? Why are you breathing like that?" My mom asked, even more anxious about the situation on the ground.

"After about 10 hours of exchanging fire with the terrorist, we were overpowered and had to flee the camp with the plan of regrouping in a nearby village, we arrived the village a few hours ago and there has been a head count but Isaac's father has been declared MIA since no one saw him die, so it is MIA for now until it is confirmed otherwise." My dad said,

At that point, there were mixed feelings. We were happy my dad was fine, but Isaac's dad being declared missing in action caused us to be sad. The following morning, some uniformed men came to the house to inform Isaac and his mom that their dad was missing in action. We hoped a phone would just ring, and then it would be him reaching out to tell us he was fine, but days turned into weeks, and we had nothing until getting to a month when my dad called and said the phone should be given to Isaac's mom.

"Hello, Nne." It was Isaac's dad; he got separated from the others when they got overpowered and was taken in by another camp of soldiers, and since he was shot in the shoulder, they decided to keep him with them for some time for treatment until he was okay to rejoin his unit.

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We all danced for joy with tears rolling down the eyes of our mothers, showing how joyful they were; once again, we knew happiness.