Desperate for one touch part 1

“Why are you vexed over such a simple matter?”

The audacity of the question! This guy has guts! But that is to be expected; afterall soldiers are not lily-livered people. Truth be told, Josh had not asked the question that way but he most certainly implied it and now I am upset with him. What’s more upsetting is that the question won’t go away.

It’s been ringing in my head for the last several minutes. Everybody seems to be attracted to my toes, because all kinds of people have been stepping on them all day, top on the list is this good for nothing psychic, or whatever they’re called theses days, all because I’ve been cursed with this incurable skin disease.

My name is Aman and I am the Chief of The Armed Forces of my beloved country and this is my story.

I am from humble beginnings and was raised as an only child. My mum was sweet and caring my dad was firm and demanding. These traits shaped me into the man I have become. Growing up as a child I always wanted to be in the army. My attraction to this line of work cannot really be explained. Of course my dad encouraged me one hundred percent, my mum, not so much. I figured I would find other ways of making it up to her.

My early years in the military were rough and unpleasant but with time I learnt the survival tricks necessary not only for my survival and sanity but also progression among my peers. I steadily climbed through the ranks and in a matter of years I had gained favour, not only with my superiors but also with the Prime Minister. It became common practice for him to put me in charge of sensitive and delicate matters of national interest. It was on one of such commissions I had an unforgettable experience.

I remember to this day the details of that particular commission. I remember it because the Prime Minister had given his word that if we came back victorious, I would be rewarded with the second highest position in the country, as the Chief of the country’s armed forces. I also remember it because it was In that same period I caught this dreaded disease called tsara’ath in my language, but which you all refer to as leprosy.

We had gone to war with a neighboring country and we won the war. As was customary with such victories, we went through some of the small towns in that region gathering the spoils of war. I on the other hand was not interested in the spoils of war; I was more interested in making sure no ugly surprises lurked around the corners.

Out of curiosity I stepped into a very narrow street that seemed to have been deserted and desolate for decades. Normally war would cause any street to look desolate, but this particular street seemed like it had been desolate even before we launched an attack on the region; it looked ghostly. As I wandered through, my eyes caught a movement in one of the dilapidated buildings and immediately I lunged through the doorway with my sword drawn out.

This action caused a group of men to shriek in fright begging for their lives. In the split seconds that ensued, with me looking slightly confused, one of the men threw himself at my feet and spoke a language I was faintly familiar with. Basically he was begging for mercy…as I tried to grasp the rest of his words, one of my lieutenants who had followed me, swiftly sliced the man’s hands off my body and made an attempt to strike his neck off as well when I ordered him to stop.

“General,” he said, his sword still pointed at the man who was now wailing and soaking in his own blood. “They are lepers and they know better than to have any form of contact with man or beast. This man has just committed an abominable act.”

With these words all my senses suddenly opened up. It was then I noted the stuffy room and the pervading stench; I now clearly saw that their bodies were badly deformed and by this time they had all curled up in one corner of the room. All of a sudden my own body suddenly seemed leprous.

“Give me the order sir.”

“No,” I said, “leave them alone. We need to leave this place immediately.”

With those words I sped out of the building, down the street faster than I had entered, desperate for any kind of air that was not leprous. As I bent down choking and gasping, my lieutenant made an attempt to touch me.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, “Move away.”

“Sir, let me help you.”

“I said do not touch me! Don’t you get it? I am now untouchable. If you touch me your very life will be condemned.”

“Sir, I left home with no guarantee of surviving this war. Let me help you and die an honourable death.”

“My boy, death in war is more honourable than this cursed affliction.”

“This is why you should have let me kill them sir!”

“You simply do not understand. My parents died from this same curse. They forbade my going near them; even in death I still couldn’t touch them. Killing those men would have felt like killing my parents.”

This time he was silent. Further argument was no longer necessary.

“Go secure my tent.” I said to him. “Make sure it is moved far away from the rest of the camp. Go now.”

“Sir, I have a suggestion.”

“Speak.”

“The leper’s touch lasted only a few seconds and he didn’t even touch your bare skin. For all we know you may not even be infected so to move your tent away from the camp will only cause undue panic. This can still be kept under wraps.”

As cursed as I felt, my brain was able to process Josh’s point, he was making some sense and he was not done talking. My silent approval was all he needed to go on.

“Let us keep this between us, no one else has to know for now, I will be by your side all the way making sure no one touches you, and I’ll keep my distance as well. We can come up with some story of you not feeling well - or something like that. Then we’ll see what happens in the next few days.”

I nodded in agreement and that’s exactly what we did. With Josh’s help my secret was preserved for the next few days of our journey back home.

The news of our victory had already gone ahead of us and our arrival was greeted with pomp and pageantry.

Now because the Prime Minister was a man of his word I knew that my new appointment would soon be made public and I would be decorated as the new Commander-in-Chief. Word of my “ill health” had also reached him and after his initial speech welcoming us back home, he beckoned for me to join him in his inner chambers – perfect timing.

I immediately followed him into his chambers with Josh shutting the door firmly behind us. As he sat down he raised his brows, curious about Josh being with us and why I still lingered at the door. I quickly explained Josh’s presence and he quietly listened to the whole story of my encounter at the leper’s colony. Within minutes his cheerful countenance had changed to one of sobriety. It was clear he was concerned. But the concern only lasted a few minutes.

“I sympathize with you Aman, but this doesn’t change a thing. You have brought me much wealth and fame, your reward is long overdue. Your new appointment as my C-in-C will most certainly be announced tonight and once we are done with the celebration, I’ll order the very best of doctors to attend to you. Besides you still look very much the same and hopefully this embarrassment can be averted.”

“By the way” he continued, “News reaching me says your wife eagerly awaits your return and a huge party is already underway at home, in your honour. How do you want to handle this?”

“If I could have a private moment with my wife within the walls of your house, I replied, I would be most grateful.”

He quickly granted my request and as discussed we went back to join the party. The announcement of my promotion was received with loud cheers and a standing ovation from everyone present.

Facing my wife with the “real” news of my illness was more difficult than facing the Prime Minister and her gracious response compounded my frustration. She knew me well enough not to show pity but understood and expressed the delicacy of the situation we both faced; promising to be by my side all the way albeit from a safe distance.

Of course in a matter of days my worst fears were confirmed and the treacherous signs of leprosy started spreading all over my body. It didn’t take long for the news to reach the ears of everyone and anyone who mattered. My nights became sleepless and my days got restless.

As promised the Prime Minister sent for the best doctors in town and they honestly did their best, especially as there was the promise of a huge financial reward to any doctor who could succeed in producing a cure. Hmm, cure? For a centuries-old disease that had not been cured before now? Nevertheless I submitted myself to all the tests and treatments the doctors offered, yet all I got was periodic relief from the pain, along with herbal remedies to treat my insomnia.

Article written by Nkoyo Itegboje

Nkoyo Itegboje is a writer based in Lagos, Nigeria. You can connect with her via her facebook page or send her an email via