I ran as quickly as I could towards the front door. It was open, the door almost hanging off its hinges. I heard thudding noises of fist upon flesh.
There were four of them and they were beating Akanni. One of the oppressors gripped onto Akanni while the other three brutally punched and kicked him. One oppressor repeatedly punched Akanni in the face; till he was bleeding and his nose looked as if it was broken.
He was trying to fight back, thrashing and kicking, but they were way too strong for him. One last fatal blow on the head and there was a dull thud on the floor as the oppressors knocked him unconscious. I screamed, and rushed from the door across to the road, almost tripping with shock and fear. With ease it seemed, they dragged him into the van.
I was surrounded by villagers, who were attempting to fight back; they had large planks of wood while the oppressors only had their fists. However, one by one as they approached to fight, they got punched in the face and dropped on the spot, dead like!
Akanni’s parents were screaming, but nothing could help Akanni now. The four oppressors, jumped into the van and drove off, but before they left they stopped in front of me. Petrified they were going to take me with them, I stepped back. The tinted window rolled down and I could not help but let out a gasp. An oppressor stuck his head out of the window, but he was not like the other oppressors. He had a deep cut scar down his left eye, a scar which shouted out danger! He smiled at me, not the usual cheery smile but the smile that terrified people. The smile which printed itself into your mind. The smile that gives you nightmares. They sped off into the distance, leaving me alone among the deserted, bloody street, littered with fallen bodies.
I slowly walked into the lifeless drive of the house. Akanni’s mother and father were lying on the floor, their eyes full of tears. His father saw me, got up slowly and walked over to me.
“They have taken our son away from us; you have to get him back. You have to. He’s your childhood friend,” he begged as he kneeled on the floor in front of me.
“Please, please, ple-ase get my son back.”
I stood there not knowing what to say or do. Somehow, as if out of nowhere I blurted out, “No, I will not get myself into this mess, I will not get involved. If you want to get him back, do it yourself, I can not help you.” I was shocked! We both were. We both knew I had always treated them like my own parents, always respected them. But this sudden outburst? Too ashamed to face them I ran off, leaving them sobbing on the ground.
Reaching up to ring the bell to my house, I stopped and thought for the first time after the eruption. What had I done? Why had I shouted? I suppose deep down I didn’t want to get involved, but I regret it all now. I really do. But everything’s in the past now. There is nothing to be done.
***
Two weeks later a similar event occurred, except at the dead of night!
A loud bang awoke me and my wife; it was coming from next door; Danladi’s house. As we lay in our bed we could hear screaming, the sound of dropping furniture and a baby’s cry. It had started again. I got out of bed and walked over to the curtains and drew them back with a fast sweep of my hand.
The same four oppressors were dragging Danladi out of the house. His wife followed petrified, she was screaming to the oppressors to let go of her husband. She grabbed hold of one of the oppressors arm. But he lashed out. She fell on the floor and groaned in agony. A sharp pain rose up from her stomach, blinding her in pain. She was pregnant!
The four oppressors threw Danladi into the van. Before they got in themselves, they looked straight up at me. Once again I saw that malicious smile. I threw the curtains back, and a cold shiver ran down the back of my spine, even though it was scorching in the house.
I wanted to go out and help, I wanted to help fight on behalf of Danladi, but I didn’t want to get involved. I didn’t want my family to suffer. What a huge mistake I made! I regret it now, I really do. But I suppose nothing can be done!
***
A month after this, things once again went wrong, but this wrong landed me in this dump, it landed me in a position where I have been separated from my family, separated from the rest of the world, separated from life!
It was a Monday morning, the sun was high in the sky and the birds were chirping in the early morning as I made my way to work. I was due to meet Chinwe at the coffee shop but she was not there so I decided to proceed on. As I walked into the office building I could hear shouting and screaming. I wondered what the matter was so I asked someone. They had told me that Chinwe had lost her job for no apparent reason. There had been no warning, no query, no probe!
Chinwe stormed out of the boss’s office, with tears streaming down her eyes. I followed her; she was in no mood to talk and walked straight out of the building. I decided to stop there and let her come to terms with everything that had happened. But then I saw something that horrified me, one of the oppressors jumped out from the battered van and pulled her straight in. I just stood there like a fool. I couldn’t move.
The oppressors bought the dead engine alive and drove towards me, scared they were going to attack me I stepped back a couple of paces. They stopped in front of me and the tinted window was unwounded. It was the oppressor with the scar down his left eye. However this time he had another scar across his right cheek and his nose looked broken! He gave me a malicious smile! I started to shiver even in the roasting sun. He mouthed to me “you are next.” I was terrified, what did he mean by I was next? What had I done? Was he after my family? Seeing the shock and confusion on my face gave him satisfaction, as he started laughing and wounded the window up and drove off!
I didn’t want to stay after that, I wanted to run home, I wanted to make sure my wife and kids were safe. I wanted to make sure they were unharmed!
Out of breath I approached my house, but I froze in my tracks. The front door was lying on the gravel, the windows were smashed. Was I too late? Had my family’s lives been destroyed? I climbed over the door, and called out for them. No answer. I started to panic; I started to imagine horrid things. I imagined the oppressors beating my wife and kids and carrying them into the haunted van. I imagined them driving off and me never seeing them again. I couldn’t stand it, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kill. I wanted my family back. I fell onto the floor not knowing anything. Not understanding anything. I placed my head in my hands and slowly the tears fell onto my lap. I couldn’t bear to think what life would be like without them.
All of sudden I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder. I was scared to look. Afraid to see who it was. Slowly after what seemed like years, I found the courage to turn around. I saw the black, scared and humanless eyes of the oppressor. I sat still frozen! I had received what I deserved. I had been given a taste of my own medicine. With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, I knew my fate had finally arrived…
