INEXORABLE!!!

                                                                         

                                                                           1

…..My name is Saint Cristiano and I am fighting for my life.

I am pitted against Diablo Malvado the bone crusher and the odds are totally against me! The whole world does not give me a chance since the last opponent he faced is almost a vegetable receiving care in some intensive care unit. However, this was a make or break match, it is either I win and become the world champion or join the long trail of broken boxers who might have been.

I have struggled through the first four rounds with my breath sounding like that of a farrowing sow.  

The bell rang for round five and he came out of the blue corner charging at me like a raging bison high on amphetamines. Black, big, brutish with a shaven head attached to his shoulders devoid of a neck, he is the stuff nightmares are made of. Thick, tall, dark, a jagged scar tissue ran down his left eye all the way to his lips, giving him a perpetual lopsided grin that taunted me. He launched a flurry of punches, a flood of agony that drowned my senses. It was all I could do to soak up the furious onslaught without buckling at the knees.

Through the fog of pain, the voice of Manuel Christos, my trainer, mentor and friend in one pierced through saying “stand boy! Do all you can to stand!”.

 Despite his constant admonitions and the roaring chant of the cloud of witnesses in the hall cheering me on, I took a left hook on the jaw and crumpled. I saw stars and they were not the ones lining the Milky Way. The count was on and by the time the Referee got to seven I groggily got to my feet and was promptly saved by the bell. Coach has always told me, it does not matter how many times you fall so long you rise again. I walked shakily to the red corner battered and bruised but Manuel caught me just as I was about collapsing. I felt despondency wrap its thick fist around me.

OBINNA....His heart shattered into bits like fragile china vase as he watched her walk away with her usual panache laden steps.

"I cannot take this anymore!" These were her final words but they had been uttered with such vituperation that they became the sledge hammer that broke his soul.

Since leaving school, he had been working given that he did not believe in being idle but most of the jobs were owned by Nigerians which means you toil like a Hebrew slave with little or no incentive. Staff welfare is usually bad and most of the time the pittance paid does not show up until the end of the next month and in a lot of cases months go by without workers getting their salary while the owners of the companies trotted round the globe.

Thing is, this situation has crept up upon Ego and he with its clammy hands to kill the vine of their relationship. They had gone out for nine yrs and were supposed to be married this year but he could even afford to buy her recharge card lots of the time. She had come to the end of her tether and decided to move on with rich Ekene who had been piling a ton of pressure on her for ages.

His luck had petered out! As the fragrance of her perfume lingered in the Mushin one room apartment where he squatted, Obinna wept!

SANDRA……Their fellowship had gone sour like stale egusi soup after only three years. These days they lived like strangers in the house and did not even share the same bed anymore. She never thought the day would ever come when she and Omoregie would ever share different bedrooms (in days gone by, she used to feel such things happened to couples who lived in mars and not anywhere near her). Lately her husband was only consumed by work. It was either one miserable target or another and recently he had started staying out late. A couple of days back she smelt the fumes of alcohol on his breath and could have sworn there was a lipstick stain on one of his trademark T.M Lewin shirts. Passion had flown out of the windows of their love castle like a swallow migrating from a harsh winter to a warmer clime. Sandra felt so alone, so unloved and the only way she could see out of all this was for the unfeeling scissors of divorce to slash through the ribbon of their fellowship.

OLU......His name was missing on the list for the umpteenth time, he has failed again. As the sounds of jubilation from successful candidates erupted around him, he trudged back to his room crestfallen. Olu felt like a trapped rat, there seems to be no way out of the confusing maze of his dilemma! A predicament that had made him contemplate suicide a few times.

IYABO.....the threads of white hair escaped from her dark mass of curls like exuberant wisteria. The crows feet around her eyes were becoming more prominent everyday despite all the beauty products she splurged on. There was no way, she could escape the fact that she was growing older and was still single. Pressure from family, friends and folks squeezed her like the folds of a boa constrictor until she had become emotionally exhausted! It was not like she had the ability to create a husband from clay or sand but they would not let her be, everyone harassed her like angry hornets. These days she felt she was continually running against time that was ticking like a bomb....Iyabo felt tired, so tired!

TIFFANY....The pain ripped through her like a serrated knife in the hand of a maniac, slashed at her core like a pepper fortified axe. She still found it difficult to believe that her brother in-law waltzed into her matrimonial home and slapped her! He called her a shriveled yam that should be thrown into a bin. The main sting was that Odun her husband did not even say anything, behaved like he did not know what happened. In seven years of marriage, she had never felt the pain of her infertility so acutely!

                                                            2  

…..Round twelve, I am amazed to have made it this far. My eyes are puffy and swollen, I can barely see. The punishment continued. The tear above my eyebrow dripped blood into my eyes. I could not take it anymore. I sincerely wished that Manuel Christos would throw in the towel and save me the torture. It was time to quit but I knew if I capitulated that would be the end of my boxing career. He never works with quitters and he is the best in the world. It was great privilege to train under him and I was not about to lose that. He got me my first title and I never forget what he told me after he congratulated me.

“Saint, if you ever turn back in the heat of battle, my soul would have no pleasure in you. No one is fit for my attention who ever looks back once their boxing gloves are on. I and anyone who decides to stick with me are not quitters who lose out. Oh, no! We’ll stay with it and survive, believing all the way”.

So I dug in my head, fixed the prize before my eyes and slugged it out. I went at him toe to toe, squared up eye to eye. I made up my mind to win or die trying! I fought the fight of my life!!!

OBINNA…..The offer from Ette was quite tempting. All Obinna needed to do was cook the books and no one would have ever noticed. He would have made the easiest three hundred thousand naira of his life without any repercussions. It would have come in handy too. He was tired of squatting and would have been able to get a self contained one room apartment in Iju. Furthermore, it would also have been some kind of sweet revenge against an unfriendly and rapacious system. He tossed and turned for countless sleepless and sweaty nights weighing his options. After a long week of deliberations, he decided to pass albeit reluctantly because he could not stoop that low. Ette called him a big fool. The insult rankled!

SANDRA……Dennis was your typical ladies dream man. He usually looked like he just stepped out of the pages of the latest GQ magazine. A natural model, slick in his ways, sleek in his moves, smooth with his words, he was the type ladies would gouge one another’s eyes out for. Funny thing was that he was still single even though he could have any woman he wanted at the snap of his fingers. Lately, he started showering her with attention and being the most accomplished gentleman, he did a lot of things that her husband would not even do in the next millennium, simple things like opening doors and waiting for her to walk past. Since Sandra's esteem had taken a hit due to Omoregie’s attitude, she lapped up all the attention like a voracious cat going at prime cream milk. Truth was, she was beginning to think her husband could go jump into a lake; he was not even half the dude her toaster was, not by a long shot. Hence, when Dennis invited her for lunch in one of the deluxe restaurants in town, she jumped at the invitation but on her way she called him, apologized profusely for not being able to go through with it and wept with her head banging the steering wheel. She felt like a fool who had torn up a lottery ticket.

OLU……..The big three knew of his dilemma and offered to help him out this time. For a paltry sum, they would tender the questions of the next exams to him. He did not want to fail anymore considering that some of the people he started with were already way ahead of him. He agreed to the offer but a day to the agreed date, he called them and called off the whole arrangement. They called him a failure and a loser.

IYABO…….It is so nice to finally have someone she could call her own especially on days like Valentine. However, she finally had to tell herself the truth; the guy had no values, was only interested in sex and only placed stock on ephemeral things. She figured that if she finally agreed to his proposal, her name would change from Miss to Mrs, her finger would bear a ring but she would be eternally miserable. She broke up and everyone called her stupid!

Tiffany…..it was dark and quiet, shadows and silhouettes loomed like otherworldly structures in the soft gentle glow of the moon. The hut was decrepit, beside the village river and the crone sitting in front gave her the hibbie jibbies. Her mother in law held her hand and pulled her closer to the woman that was supposed to have the magic that would give her a baby like she did for her sister in law. Tiffany felt she must have been out of her mind to have given in to the woman’s pressure. She snatched her hand and ran for dear life while the women rained all sorts of abusive words on her in a stormy rage.

                                                                      

                                                          3

My tenacity was getting to Diablo Malvado. He had always been the type who does not like long drawn out matches; he would rather sneak in and floor his opponents with a sucker punch. Ducking his wild round houses, I concentrated on making every punch count. This time I was not hitting like one hitting the air.  Every punch was deliberate, each blow made to count. Head filled with Manuel Christos words, I was resolute, determined to floor this giant.  Diablo could not withstand my faith once my fear dissolved. He wilted under my relentless salvos. All this time I kept talking to him, throwing Christos’ words, telling him how he was going to be toppled unlike the earlier rounds when fear gripped my voice box and made it impossible for me to talk. I gave him a thunderous jab and followed it up with a right hook which almost decapitated him. The rest was history. He could not get up for the tenth count and the whole hall went agog. I was carried shoulder high, the belt of gold was placed on my waist and Manuel kept applauding and smiling at me. I still cannot get over the fact that I won….   

OBINNA…he came out of his latest Honda Accord sports and hugged Awele his wife while his son and daughter ran to him shouting “daddy, daddy”. He scooped them up and planted kisses on their faces. It was so good coming back home to his loved ones after his two weeks training in Dubai which the multinational company he worked for sent him on. Home is certainly where the honey is, he thought smiling.

SANDRA……“until death do us part.” As her husband said those words, joy exploded in her heart. His eyes were such oceans of love that washed over her. They had the tenderness, the softness, the passion, the love that she used to know. He declared them from the depths of his being and hugged her ever so tightly. They had had a rude awakening when they nearly lost their only daughter because of the break in their communication lines. It was a wake up call for them; he cleaned up his act, stepped up his game and she stopped nagging. They got back to winning ways and renewed their vows.

OLU…he threw the hat of his graduation gown into the air as the camera froze and immortalized the moment. Food and drinks were in surplus supply as he celebrated. To cap it all, he had gotten a scholarship for further studies in the USA. Life is indeed groovy; he mused as everyone congratulated him and danced to Frank Edwards “U too dey bless me”.

IYABO…after throwing her bouquet to the throng of her single lady friends, she ran into the arms of her husband who gave her a kiss that warmed her through like she were a chestnut in a fire. Smouldering and aglow with the warmth of love she wondered how someone could be this handsome. The heat spread all the way from her heart to her whole being and smiling to herself mischievously, Iyabo knew they were going to set the Bahamas on fire during their honeymoon.

Tiffany…the song “everything na double double” was blaring from the speakers as she danced carrying one of her twins while her husband carried the other. She had named them Manasseh and Ephraim. The canopies were spread across the field like multicoloured mushrooms with people milling about celebrating and rejoicing. It was a rollicking time for everybody. She was still stunned beyond belief, it was all like a dream, her mouth was filled with laughter and singing but she remembered what Ozioma her best friend kept telling her over the years……

He that endureth to the end shall be saved…

This piece is dedicated to Mohammed Ali, the greatest boxer that ever lived especially for his staying power against Joe Frazier in their bout“The Thriller in Manilla”.

 © 2013 Ekpo Ezechinyere

INEXPLICABLE!!!!

                                        

It is my wedding day and I weep! My emotions are like fickle weather that simultaneously releases the rain of my tears and the faint rays of my wan smile. I am quite jumbled up on the inside and my feelings get worse the closer I get to the altar where my husband-to-be and his best man are waiting. Seeing the brilliance of my Love's animated smile as he watched me walk down the aisle provokes a flash back that propels me down the tunnels of time to when it all began…

It was five years ago in the University of Ibadan. I had gone to study all night to catch up on one of my dreaded courses but after eight hours of gruel studying, it was like I had been hitting my head on a wall all night long.  Irrespective of my efforts, nothing entered my brain; I might as well have slept through the night. The candle had been burned furiously at both ends to no avail. The futility of the whole exercise made me shed a few tears since my semester exams were close and I could not afford to fail.

That was when he walked past, whistling to himself gaily. His own swotting must have yielded results. Looking at me, he stopped in his tracks. Even now, I still do not know what attracted him to me; maybe it was my helpless, miserable look or my puffy face with reddened eyes and a mien of dejection.

"May I help you" He asked?

"No, I am fine" was my reply; I was not used to getting attention from strange men.

He insisted, saying that something was definitely wrong. I finally was moved by his genuine concern and I told him that like a fisherman, I had toiled all night long and caught nothing.  He told me not to worry and sat by me to reveal the opaque depths of the course that I could not fathom. Boy! The dude was so smoking hot that I felt he must have written the textbook or must be the son of the professor who did. Within an hour, the arcane mysteries of the subject had been dissected down to piece-of-cake level. I was so grateful.

That was when I took a good look at him and my heart so dropped down to the level of my feet that I swooned. He was handsome and of mixed breed with brown eyes like pools of honey that stuck and sweetened the senses, he was so easy to talk to. Decked in designer wears and redolent of a lovely manly fragrance even at that time of the morning, I knew this guy was swimming up to his eyeballs in money. I was definitely not his type; he was too high up on the social stratus ladder for me. The reality of this truth pained me but I know I am no princess and there was no point in building castles in the air. I mumbled a lack luster thank you and sauntered off but he ran after me.

"That was the most energetic thank you anyone has ever given me but you are so welcome. He sarcastically joked. His voice washed over me when he spoke like a flowing brook smoothing the rough edges of a boulder. I am Jesse, may I know you"? This was said with a quizzical raise of his left eyebrow which released hundreds of butterflies within me. I wondered whether he knew the kind of effect he had on ladies with his non flirtatious friendly demeanour.

"Anyuli is the name".  Chai! Nsogbu (trouble)! These were the words going on in my mind as he shook my hand.

He gave me a ride back to Queen's hall where I stayed. His car was a brand new sporty Honda with soft seats and insides that smelt like heaven. I reluctantly alighted but not after we had exchanged phone numbers. I went about my business believing that was the last I was going to hear of him.

To my surprise, Jesse did not let go but kept coming back. I thought he was a bit mad because I could not see what he saw in me. He was "tush", I was "razz"! He was born and bred in Ikoyi and had traveled the world round (his father is stupendously wealthy). I grew up in a one room “face me I face you” apartment in Bariga where we draw water out of wells and used pit latrines. He sure was a weird one considering he could have had any girl he wanted on campus. The most amazing thing was that he was not the hit and run type so I was sure it was not just about sleeping with me.

  

I was an ugly duckling, he was a swan. The two do not mix. I kept stringing him along waiting for when his crazed brain was going to come out of its madness.

However, Jesse stuck to me like an egret to a cow and would not let go. I could not help but capitulate the day he finally told me, he loved me. I surrendered all! We became soul mates and he was always there, impacting my life in a huge and positive way.

Before we met, I was the kind of lady who wore a multicoloured top on a multicoloured skirt with a neon orange coloured bag and white shoes. My English was a horror, I said things like "anoose" for anus and "diginity" for dignity with an accent that was heavy enough to break down fortified walls but Jesse did not mind.  Instead he kept teaching me, gave me books to read, exposed me to places I had never been, paid for me to attend a finishing school, bought me clothes when he traveled and taught me to match colours like a brilliant artist. He invested in me until I was completely transformed to the point that I knew swans live in ugly ducklings. His patience was unbelievable.

He finished with a first class and was sent to Sokoto to serve. I begged him to redeploy but he remained adamant. My guy was that kind of person who believed in being directed by a divine hand and would not try to make things happen by human efforts. He always told me "Anyum (my joy)”, the hands of flesh shall not prevail. So off to Sokoto he went.

By this time I was a belle and the whole school knew it. Jesse going away left a huge vacuum in my life and I was bored to distraction since we did not talk the way we usually did. This was when "Snaky" started coming on to me. He was the King cobra of the serpentine brotherhood, one of the meanest cults on campus. The brother had hooded eyes that were lifeless, cold and sent chills down one's spine. Black was his favourite colour and his movements were sinuous and slow in a way that screamed dangerous. However, when he is at his charming best, those hooded eyes fill with light and warmth like the sun parting the curtains of the sky to melt the icy hills in the Antarctic. I never acknowledged him, Jesse constantly warned me about his type, so whenever I saw him coming one way, I took the other.

Snaky would not just take no for an answer, he was so resolute. He showered me with flowers continuously, thrice every single day (they coincided with breakfast, lunch and dinner times) for three months coupled with Simon Elvin cards filled with poems that would make Shakespeare's sonnets seem banal. Trinkets, clothes, shoes (I kept wondering how he found out my size) phones and recharge cards flowed in a constant stream but I remained as immovable as the mountains. Nevertheless, my resolve started getting chipped off bit by bit by the forceful wind of his persistence. The lyrics he sent as text messages were like keys customized for the doors of my heart. They whispered open sesame to my soul. He was a repertoire of jokes and I began to wonder whether the news going on about him were just unsubstantiated rumours. The brother had my number!

Finally, I agreed to have ice cream with him and that was the beginning. I was swept off my feet on a magic carpet ride. The cloud of dangerous allure around him enshrouded me so much that F.U.N (fighting unholy needs as stated by one of my pals) was not an issue anymore I gave in completely.

Snaky became my lover, I stopped taking Jesse's calls. Jesse was a great guy but Snaky was more exciting and generally more fun to be around with no inhibitions. His was a bungee jump compared to Jesse’s carousel. With Jesse, I am usually more constrained with his constant preaching and laws (do not do this or that). What a churchy bore he was.

I completely lost my head, we visited all the trendy clubs in the western region of Naija, I got into smoking, alcohol binging, a little bit of drugs and we did every unmentionable thing you could ever think of. Life was a roller coaster ride, fast on the broad lane! My days were groovy and breezy. The last time Jesse called, I blatantly told him to move on, that he was a stick in the mud and too boring for me. I heard him break down on the line but I was a little high that night and past caring.

In the midst of all these, I became careless and got pregnant. That was when my eyes opened to the fact that I had been had. Snaky was incensed by what he called my stupidity. All the romantic feelings left him in a rush like air escaping a ruptured balloon when I said that the baby was not going to be aborted for any reason. I could not bring myself to terminate a baby breathing and growing within me for some inexplicable reason. I told him there was a connection, an incomprehensible attachment I could not severe. Snaky gave me a resounding slap that sounded like a pistol shot, it was like someone had used a battering ram on my face.

"Jesse could never have done that"! I cried spitting out blood with a tooth.

The name caused an eruption within him and he descended on me like an enraged axe shouting "never mention the name of that goody-two-shoe to me forever again". Apparently, he never really loved me but wanted to get back at my former boyfriend. Unknowing to me, they had this eternal feud thing going on. Snaky hated Jesse and the ground he walked on because my ex had stood in the way of the Serpentine brotherhood before and prevented them from carrying out some of their murderous activities. The King Cobra had sworn revenge which is what made him come at me but he so enjoyed the pleasures and the publicity I brought him that he stayed on.

Looking at me bleeding and broken on the floor with his malevolent hooded eyes, he said with a smile of derision creasing his face "I am the serpent in the Eden of you and that haloed fool"! As his footsteps echoed down the hallway, realization hit me like a thunderous fist that the king of the reptilian brotherhood is evil and could never have the capacity to love.

My father disowned me because of the pregnancy and since there was none of my previous beaus around, cash became an issue. I could not cope with the pregnancy, emotional trauma, financial conundrum and shame, so I had to take some time out. I traveled to my grandma's village in the depths of Imo state.

Jesse kept calling but my embarrassment and the fact that I knew he was calling to lambast me made me never pick his calls. I kept licking my wounds while the baby within me grew.

One day while shelling egusi seeds for soup, I heard a car stop outside. I was surprised because cars rarely came that way especially one that had Chris Quilala of the Jesus Culture group singing "your love never fails" from its speakers. My curiosity was piqued and nostalgia flooded me. This was one of Jesse's favourite songs. Before I could get up and waddle to the door, he burst through the raffia mat we used as a curtain and hugged me in my smoke saturated gown like I were oxygen and he was a drowning man. Words of endearment flowed out of him like a rushing river but I pushed him off.

"Anyum, I have missed you" He said.

"Are you mad, Jesse, have you not heard? Can you not see? I am not even fit to be called your friend. Please do not mock me ooo".

"Sweetie, nothing can separate us even if you run away. We are destined to be together so we are going back to Ibadan".

He actually drove down all those miles to see and take me back. I kept glancing at him as we traveled down to Ibadan wondering whether he was going to start foaming at the mouth or uprooting his hair or something because this guy must be crazy. This kain love na crazy one o.

It was later I got to know that he had confronted Snaky and made a public show of disgracing him and some of his mambas (top henchmen) because of what he did to me. I learnt they were still in the orthopaedic wards of UCH (University College Hospital) receiving treatment for their broken bones. Jesse did the unthinkable, took on the Serpentine Brotherhood, no one ever dares them. I kept remembering what Bebe Winans sang in," what kind of love places itself in harm's way". Furthermore because of his boldness, the cult scattered and some students finally had the guts to point out Snaky and his boys as the culprits of a lot of law breaking deeds that have evaded the hands of the law for a long time. Word going around is that they were going to get life imprisonment and the keys to their cells were going to be thrown away forever.

At this juncture, I broke down. I felt like a filthy rag but he still loved me. He booked me into antenatal clinic in a very good Obs and Gynae hospital and was there for me when I delivered, even though he was supposed to be at work. Furthermore, he engaged the help of a very good nanny so that I could go back to my studies and bought me a small car to help ease the stress of motherhood. 

Jesse was so amazing that my father took me back because of him. However, most amazing of all was that he agreed to adopt Snaky’s son without any fuss. Now, that was way too much!

After my service year, he proposed and instead of giving him a yes, I kept crying. I had not gotten over my guilt. I was damaged goods yet this guy placed an inestimable value on me. He actually burst his accounts to purchase me. I told him I was not going to wear white on our wedding day since 

I was tainted but he said he still saw me as pure as fresh driven snow, as innocent and as vestal as the petals of a newly blossomed lily…..

.

..I am still crying as I continue walking towards him. He looks so handsome and regal as he stands at the altar with Emioluwa, his best man. I have not been able to come to terms with this manner of love.

“How he loves me! Who am I that he is so mindful of me”? As the ceremony progresses, I still can not hold back the tears that flow unbidden. He even adds a new clause to our vows which says "death would not even do us part". As he declares "I do" and slips the ring on my finger, I notice the gold band has some deep engravings on it. I twirl it around and read as the tears kept streaming;

I have loved thee with an everlasting love!!!!

 

      © 2013 Ekpo Ezechinyere              

AMAZING, MINDBOGGLING!!!!

                                               

 Like a hungry leopard breaks up a thick herd of zebras, the illumination from the halogen floodlights coupled with that from the massive neon billboards scattered the night into thickets of shadows. I stood by the roadside, bathed in the pool of the harsh but welcomed radiance as the night bombarded me with noise. The din grated on my nerves; it was a blunted saw going through the tree trunk of the day’s demise. I was engulfed by a cacophonous symphony of blaring horns, hawking shouts, roaring music and every kind of racket imaginable. On the bridge, vehicles crawled past, shepherded by LASTMA officials and policemen, their conductors belting out "Orile", "Mile 2", "Airport road", "two more chance", and so on. It is almost hard to remember this place used to be the den of stealing, mugging and every other kind of iniquity known to man before the present Governor of Lagos state saturated the whole area with light. He equally built roads and parks and now some kind of sanity reigns in the midst of all the insanity of this bustop. This is vintage Oshodi Oke bridge at night.

I had left my office in Lekki more than three hours ago and I was still headed towards Ikotun, another two hours commute. This means that I would get home about 11pm with just enough time to rustle up some noodles, sleep, and wake up at 4am to enable me beat the traffic of another day. It is such an emotion wrecking and body breaking lifestyle that recently I had been asking myself how long I was going to keep at this vicious circle in other to make some little change. Some days make me feel like a decrepit building that has been subjected to the wrath of a wrecking ball. I have been standing here for about an hour waiting for one of the large government buses that collect N50 instead of the smaller buses driven by Shylocks who hike their fares when they see large crowds. These guys are greedy beyond belief. However, even with the astronomical fares, passengers besieged these vehicles because there are usually so many people but such few buses. The weariness that seeped into my bones as I stood observing everything made a foul mood possess me.

I saw "area boys", delinquents that they are, purchase sachets and cups of home brewed alcohol that had the capacity to shrivel the liver. I observed them harass and extort hard earned money from bus drivers while policemen watched, waiting for their own cut at the end of the day. It is because of these touts that transport fares keep going up. I just cannot abide them. Actually, with their dirty looks, gruff voices and pugnacious attitude, I find them utterly detestable. I usually wonder what rotted wombs conceived such human vermin. They should be crushed underfoot like roaches, exterminated like pests from the face of the earth with DDT. Nigeria would be a way better place without them.

The sudden shouts of ole, ole (thief, thief), woke me from my reverie. The shouting was directed at one ragamuffin who was racing towards me toting a laptop bag. Of course, instinctively, I tripped him and he came crashing down. I retrieved the bag, gave it back to the owner then joined the throng that descended on him with the fury of yesteryears frustrations. After landing two furious slaps on his face with fiendish glee, I gave way to the more irate crowd. The miasma of marijuana, filth and alcohol emanating from him and the bile of disgust that threatened to activate my gag reflex was too much for me.

While this mayhem was going on, a custom made white Lincoln Navigator stopped by the side of the road. It was so sleek that it must have been a white Arabian stallion in another life, so bright that if I did not know angels had wings, I would have thought that it was the wheels they used in heaven. The back door opened and the handsomest man I had ever seen stepped out. He was tall, wearing a navy blue three piece designer suit, a dazzling white shirt and a blood red tie. He came out, and asked what was going on with a clipped upper class accent that made me know he had proper upbringing and must have gone to a very good school (I later got to know that he went to Oxford).

“Efile, kilo n sele” (please leave him, what is going on here)? He inquired of the bloodthirsty horde in impeccable Yoruba.

 After he was told the whole story by one of the busy bodies, he offered to pay whatever it would take to right the wrong and settle the case (the laptop had gotten broken in all the ensuing madness). No sooner had he said this than the people around started insulting him and promptly told him it was none of his business. I can almost wager that Nigerians are the rudest people in the world.

The crowd would have none of that goody- two-shoes stunt. They wanted jungle justice at all cost. The tempo of the beating being meted out was getting too much and if it continued, this thief,- pile of dung in human skin was going to leave the world soon, not that anyone would miss him though. It would be good riddance to bad rubbish but something weird was going on here.

Mr. “Lincoln” got into the thick of the fray begging the bloodthirsty throng to let him go. He covered the bum’s body to shield him from the rage being dished out. This dude must be mad for getting involved in a melee that could bring him great harm because of a good for nothing loafer. I was proven right when I saw a tooth fly out of his mouth following a hay-maker of a blow. All the pummeling meant for the bad guy was now rained on him. His suit was torn in no time, white shirt besmirched, lips swollen, face bloodied and squashed like mashed tomatoes yet he did not give up in his quest to save the thief. His involvement gave the accused enough reprieve to escape and he ran like a hare on drugs still being pursued by the mob. A policeman shouted after him to stop or he would shoot. I quickly ran to the other side of the road, the police in Nigeria are about the most trigger happy in the world.

“I say make you stop or I go shoot you oooo” the enforcer shouted again in a drunken slur (when it comes to drinking alcoholic poison, Nigerian policemen are as bad as the area boys).

The law keeper took a shooting stance and as he squeezed the trigger, Mr. Lincoln threw himself in front of the projectile's trajectory to save the escaping culprit and the bullet entered his chest and lodged in there. I have never seen so much blood all my life. This abruptly put an end to the blood lust and everybody gathered around him as he bled to death. Even the area boy was forgotten.

The boy could not believe it! Instead of him to keep running for dear life, he came back and dissolved into tears that fell like desert rain, a tidal surge that flowed from a heart that had broken like a weak dam.  He kept bawling "ahh, o ku fun mi" (he died for me) over and over again especially when the dying man gasped "ore (friend), it is okay" and gave up the ghost.

I was stunned to the core of my being, he called that good for nothing bugger friend! How? Why? Now, I have heard it all. Apparently, I had not even seen it all. The back door on the other side of the SUV opened and a man wearing a white agbada came out.  Grief contorted his face into a mask stamped by agony and I could see tiny rivers of sorrow streaking down his eyes. The dead man looked so much like him and it dawned on me that this old man had just watched his son die a senseless death.

He walked towards the cause of all the bedlam and fear made the boy shiver like a gale blown leaf, while the policeman was on his knees shouting; "Oga, na mistake".

"What is your name boy"? He asked.

"Bara Abbas", the boy replied.

A wicked thrill of pleasure ran through me, now the son of a gun and the stupid policeman were going to get their comeuppance.

"Boy, I only have one son and he has died in the bid to save you, now I do not have a choice but to adopt you and make you take his place.”Je ka lo ri baba re" (Let us go see your dad).

There was deafening silence all around as we saw the sincerity of the old man's heart. This was exactly the opposite of the reaction we were expecting.

My eyes could not believe it when he opened the car door and the riff raff sat on those heavenly leather seats with his scruffy shorts. I squirmed within, my mind not being able to come to terms with the sight I was beholding; that dirty posterior on such pristine clean soft leather. I thought I was going mad. This was after he had told the Cop to go, that he was not going to press charges. An ambulance came and carried his son away.

As I was driven home, amazed and mind boggled at the ridiculous exchange of life that just took place, I wondered why such good fortune could have been bestowed upon such scum while I stood here in a derelict machinery parading as a bus with a sea of humanity crushing me on every side (for heaven's sake, I was more deserving). I had never experienced the kind of mercy the old man displayed. Somewhere deep down in my mind though, buried under tons of the bricks of time, the whisper of one of my Sunday school teachers stirred within. It grew to become an incessant echo within the caverns of my soul...

 

For God showed his love towards us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us... 

 © 2013 Ekpo Ezechinyere