08/09/1919

Ifakunle,

   Tomorrow, we’ll cover Adunni’s secrets in the earth. We’ll bury her beneath the tree you both climbed as children, behind the mudhouse you both made love as I stood guard. We’ll bury her by that path you buried your hopes and dreams with her in a snail shell you wrote your names. I brought her down myself. I untied the ropes of death around her neck. I lifted her and delivered her in the cocoon of her father’s hands. And these same cursed hands send death in words to you. Her father betrothed her to someone else. Preparations had already begun. They would have been married in two weeks. She said no. She died waiting on you, dangling from your tree of love. I am sorry for your loss, my brother.

                           Your Friend,

      Adekunle Orimolade.

        09/08/1919

Dear Adunni,

   I hate that my words fly and take days to reach you. I hate that I had to be forced to fight a war not of my doing too far from you. I hate that I haven’t seen you in three years, four months, two weeks, six days, and eternally lonely hours. And that war is a whore. It copulates with the side with the biggest guns. We are in luck my love. My side has the bigger guns. Do you remember the promise I laid in your tears the day before I left? That even if it takes a million years. That if the skies go black and the lion became prey to the goat, that I would return to you. Just as the sun dies to rise again, our love has risen.  By the time you will get this, it will be a day to my arrival. Tomorrow is that day, my soul. The world war is over.

                            Your Body,

                              Ifakunle.

     07\09\1919

Ifakunle,

    My love. Three years is too short to await love. You yourself know your skin is the essence of my existence. And your eyes are muse for my poetry. But the cockerel crowed too much. The moon shone too many nights. The earth took in, and gave birth to too many harvests. And my father became impatient. I would’ve waited forever and some forevers more, but they will give your soul to another. I’m to be wife to your friend, Adekunle. Let me not have this soul suffer decadence. Let me not deign your affections with another’s seed. Let tomorrow of the day you receive this, be the day we truly unite. Let your body find its soul on the other side.

                                       Your Soul,

                                        Adunni.

      09|09|1919

District Officer,

Ile Ife.

     Due to the traffic of arrivals of the war heroes who fought valiantly on the side of the world against the Germans, all letters to and fro the overseas hitherto belated for two months now still cannot be delivered until tomorrow, 10th of September 1919. We thank you for your continued patience and perseverance.

                             Yours Faithfully,

                             Anthony Johnson.

None of these letters saw the light of tomorrow.