{
  "id": 19308588,
  "title": "This Impossible Life",
  "url": "https://urgent.news/2026/11/10/this-impossible-life",
  "topic": "culture",
  "section": "Culture",
  "published": "2026-11-10T08:15:29.000Z",
  "source": {
    "name": "Literary Hub",
    "slug": "literary-hub",
    "url": "https://lithub.com/this-impossible-life/"
  },
  "original_language": "en",
  "account": "Within the vicinity of the third Mainland Bridge, an elderly woman handed Alohan to a stranger. Over the subsequent weeks, the man roamed the peripheral roads emanating from the bridge, bewildered by his unexpected circumstances. The origins of Erasmus's use of acid remained unclear: Was it intended for his photography development lab, or for a different purpose altogether? Why hadn't Erasmus cautioned Alohan about the perilous acid before their altercation? There would be no chance to inquire further. At least, Alohan was now as far removed from Erasmus as he could be. He focused on moving in that direction. The loss he had incurred due to Erasmus was indescribable—it wasn't measured in money. No monetary value could be ascribed to the mutilation of one's body. Yet, it was a profound sorrow that surpassed the loss of his parents or Ivie. Losing limbs was a source of intense pain. Once, Alohan possessed a full face, a complete set of lips, and two functional eyes. Those were the days when he took for granted the completeness of his visage, the responsiveness of his mouth and eyes to his commands. Now, his face was incomplete, and he was reduced to the status of a common beggar, marching along the roadsides in tattered attire, subjected to the incessant chatter of oka n’ube vendors lining the streets. Astonished, Alohan questioned the incessant talking of people. He yearned for silence. He wandered silently, struggling to ignore the surrounding noise, constantly yearning to cry. A vendor declared, \"E don die\" as he sat at his makeshift stand. The aroma was of roasted corn. Nearby, a woman displayed tomatoes and garden eggs, her feet crossed, tying her Ankara cloth. \"E don die?\" she inquired. \"Baba Go-Slow don pafuka—dead and gone,\" the first woman responded. \"True true this time.\" Death, Alohan contemplated, might prove to be a more tolerable existence than the dismal reality he faced in the country. If it were true that Baba had passed away, then so be it. \"Na so?\" a tall man chimed in. \"Sai Baba? Our very own Johnny Walker? You don’t mean it!\" \"I mean it o,\" the woman affirmed. A salvation flyer vendor approached Alohan, offering a paper. \"Buy your salvation here! Stairway to heaven! Pure gold from God!\" He waved the leftover paper, his voice resonating with fervor, promising heaven's promise, unlike the material riches on earth. But how could one attain heaven? Alohan pondered, taking the flyer but offering no payment. Perhaps it held more details. He desired to read. However, the vendor, eager for payment, snatched the paper away and departed, shouting, \"Gold tickets to heaven! Meet your heavenly father through me!\" Moments later, a throng gathered around the hollering man. Dressed in formal attire, elegant gowns, shabby singlets and shorts, fathers with children, childless fathers, mothers with babies on their backs or hips, and childless mothers, a man in washed blue dungarees without a shirt approached Alohan, expressing disbelief at his disfigured face. After acknowledging the flyer, he departed contentedly. The hunger gnawed at Alohan's stomach, rendering him dizzy. He spotted a fallen fruit beneath an ackee tree and approached it. His undamaged hand retrieved the fruit. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the fruit's exterior was yellow-orange, while the interior remained green. He discarded the fruit, aware that consuming it unripe would likely cause poisoning. Though death seemed palatable, he was not yet prepared for it. Searching for additional sustenance, he discovered a ripened fruit, half-split, revealing three black seeds. He brought the ripened fruit to his mouth, but upon opening to consume, the painful tugging around his injured mouth reminded him of his condition. His mouth barely opened, prompting a painful sensation. He turned back to the crowd, witnessing police sirens and officers wielding batons attempting to disperse the gathering. Rain clouds gathered, thick and gray, with the scent of an impending downpour. A second heaven ticket vendor approached a policeman, asking, \"Shebi you want enter heaven?\" The man demanded release to sell his ticket. \"Na wetin concern you here?\" a spectator questioned. \"No be with our own money we dey buy our salvation?\" Thunder rumbled, followed by lightning, prompting the police to release the vendor, who hurried toward Alohan. Upon reaching him, the vendor smirked, inquiring, \"Salvation for you?\" A white van pulled up to the curb. The vendor entered, and the rain intensified, blinding Alohan. Reflecting on this moment, he understood there must have been a reason behind the rain. Much like his parents' passing, the rain brought no good news.",
  "summary": "On the outskirts of the 3rd Mainland Bridge, the old lady dropped Alohan off. For the weeks following, he wandered around, vagabonding the peripheral roads stemming out of the bridge, astounded by his fate. What had Erasmus been doing with",
  "key_points": [],
  "editors_take": null,
  "illustration": null,
  "coverage": {
    "outlets": 1,
    "also_reported_by": []
  },
  "ai_generated": true,
  "disclaimer": "Summaries, key points and the editor’s take are written by software from other outlets’ reporting and may contain errors — always check the linked original."
}