Beyond the façade #3
“Explain what you were doing at the bus stop.” The man in the tight police uniform bellowed at John.
“I told you already. I was going to work. They were about to burn her. I did what I had to do to stop it.” John placed his hand over the cold marvel counter. He was glad that Ore had been taken to a hospital. He didn’t know which one. He only hoped it would be one where she would receive prompt medical care.
“And why did they want to burn her?” The man asked. John refused to take his eyes away from the yellow eyes that glared at him.
“I don’t know. Why wasn’t their a police man at the police point to find out.” He retorted. He was blessed with a quick slap at the back of his head.
“I can see that you don’t have manners. Why would they want to burn a woman. They wouldn’t want to do that unless she had done something wrong. Besides, who is the they?”
“If you had gotten there earlier, I’m sure you would have seen a few of them fleeing away.” John said.
“Why were they running?” John snorted at the stupid question. Here he was, being harassed by the people who were supposed to protect lives and they were asking him why others ran away.
“I’ve already written all of this in my statement.” John snapped at the man. “I’m not answering anymore questions.”
“Okay, shebi you wan do strong head.” The man sneered. “Lock him up.”
You want to be stubborn right?
He was forced into a small cell that housed a few scantily clad men. The dark cell boasted of a bucket in the corner that reeked of human waste. John’s eyes contracted as he made out the slumped form of a man in the corner of the cell. He choose to sit on the floor but he soon regretted it as his butt met with the cold wet ground.
He forced himself to his feet, struggling because he could not use his handcuffed hands. He got to the wooden bunk and sat on it just before someone screamed at him.
“Bros, wetin dey do you now? Shey, you no get respect?” He jumped to his feet immediately and hit his head against the bunk. A sharp pain seared through his head as he fell to his knees on the cold floor that smelt like pee.
Mister, what is wrong with you? Don’t you have respect?
He looked at the person who had yelled at him. He could barely make out the face but it was as thin as Ore’s only more angular. The lean frame jumped out of the bed and stood. With the little light stealing through the metal bars, John saw that his accuser was a mere teenager. He wondered how such a soul could have ended up here.
“See… we get rule for this place. As you be new comer Na the floor you go sleep.” The boy pointed out. John shook his head. There was no way he was spending the night in the cell.
There is a rule in this place. As a new comer, you will sleep on the floor
“What are you talking about?” The stench coming from the boy’s body was worse than that in the cell. He wondered when last the boy had had a proper bath. “I will leave this place soon.”
“Dey there dey jones. You know how many years I don stay this place. Three years now,” The boy placed emphasis on the three. “And you know wetin I do. Just because say I steal chikini money like this. Welcome to the club of thieves. Na here you go die.”
Keep fooling yourself. Do you know how many years I have been here? Three years
Do you know the crime I committed? I only stole a little money. Welcome to the world of thieves. This is where you will die
If any other prisoner had a problem with this young man’s attitude, they didn’t say anything. They just sat wherever they were and remained the perfect picture of depression. He held on to the bars of the cell and tried to peer out to the policeman standing there. How could they be so stupid? He was only trying to help Ore. At least she was safe wherever she was. He hoped that she was getting good medical treatment.
“Hey. Hey.” He called out to the thin policeman that walked across his cell door. The man stopped in front of the cell and shot him a grumpy paired with a derisive stare.
“Ehen. Wetin you want?” The man’s voice was gruff.
What do you want?
“How can I leave this place now? I have written my statement. Who can I talk to? I have a meeting to attend.” He yelled.
“Ogbeni, shut up joor,” One of the inmates shouted. “You dey give me headache.”
Mister, shut up
You are giving me a headache
John ignored the inmate’s comment and faced the policeman. “See… the only person wey fit help your case na the DPO and he don travel go Kaduna. Until he come nobody go read that thing wey you write. Na for dustbin dey go throw your paper.”
See…the only person that can help your case is the DPO and he has travelled to Kaduna. Until he returns nobody will read what you wrote on the paper. They will throw your paper in the dustbin.
The policeman made to leave but John reached out and touched his hand. “Can I at least call someone?”
“The telephone no get credit.” The man replied and marched off. John stared at the cell again and shook his head. Was this what he got for trying to help Ore. Why hadn’t he learnt his lesson?
There is no airtime on the telephone
Oreoluwa Adeyemi was a terrible person. He tried to convince himself of the fact but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how a family as rich as the Adeyemi’s could produce a thief.
**Notice: Subsequent chapters will be placed as replies to this topic. **