IN LOVE WITH LUCIFER’S DAUGHTER
“So you dey chop when you never remit my own share.” Chairmo fired.
“No…no vex.” I stuttered.
“Be like you no like yourself.” Viper said.
Angered, Chairmo stood up, hot air blowing out of his nose, he appeared like he wanted to tear me apart.
“I go treat your f*CK up today!” He thundered.
This man had no smiles, his face shone with rage as he walked towards me. I had to think of something to do else I would be dead meat in his hands.
“No vex abeg. I been plan to give you the full plate.” I pleaded with Chairmo who had already raised his hands to start the battering.
He shot a dangerous glare at me for some seconds, as if contemplating on whether or not he should let me be.
“Be guided.” He said pointing his forefinger at me. He dragged the plate of food off my hands and went back to his clique. Sharing it among themselves, my only meal for the day.
“God please… please help me.” I cried. I know I had done wrong but I needed a second chance, even Samson was given one. The torment was unbearable, it had become much more than I could bear. After giving my meal to Chairmo to save myself from his rage, I would have to wait till the next evening to be able to quench the hunger in me. The punishment was getting tougher, and at that point I truly regretted been born.
Three days after.
Bruised, beaten, battered, still recovering from wounds inflicted on me by the police, I
could barely move. I felt pains whenever I stood, even more pains when I sit. Three days had passed, still no one had come to bail out of this hell on earth.
Early that afternoon, a very young boy who appeared to be in his late teens was thrown into the cell. If I were to guess at his age, I would probably say he was eighteen or nineteen.
It was barely a minute since the police brought him in that he was welcomed by the Chairmo.
“Wetin carry you come here?!” His voice thundered.
“I… I… stole garri from the market.” The lad said frightfully.
“This one na ajebo o. He no even greet, but e dey follow me speak good English” Chairmo said to his cohorts, who claimed to have been in the cell for a very long time.
“You no sabi greet?” Chairmo thundered, a dirty slap landing on the lad’s face by one of Chairmo’s boys – the one they call spider.
“I’m sorry sir” The young lad begged.
“No dey follow me speak English, me wey dey speak Pidgin I no get sense abi? Now na why fine small boy like you go dey thief for market, you no get mama for house?”
“I ran away.. sorry…I run comot for house sir.”
“You run comot for house.” He mimicked.
“And your parents go dey find you, meanwhile you dey market dey thief people foodstuff. Ajebo like you…you never see anything. Spider!”
“Yes boss.” Spider answered.
“Make una welcome this boy. Rubbish. Imagine, E dey even follow me dey speak English.”
Geez! They really dealt with this boy, with what they did I would even advise the police to take lessons from them.
I quickly sank deep into a corner when I could no longer watch the beating this lad received. They kicked him about, punched him and slammed his head repeatedly on the wall. I began to wonder why they would do such when they were also criminals.
When they were done they let him be, laughing heartily like they were been paid for what they did.
When the boy had settled down and cried his eyes out, I later got talking with him and I managed to console him. I found out he had run away from home just because he got a girl pregnant. Maybe he taught survival in the streets was a piece of cake. But he had seen otherwise, and most definitely regretted his actions.
We became close over the days and I discovered he had a good heart but life turned him into a bitter tasting vinegar.
Sometimes, life happens and people make unreasonable choices. There are things we just can’t control.
I had been in the cell for more than a week now, malnourished, maltreated and malodorous, having not taken a bath for so long.
What could really be going on? How come no one even cared to know what had become of me. From the look of things, my parents were not even informed. Even if I was the devil’s incarnate, everyone deserves a second chance. Even if many would argue that, I deserved a second chance. And I knew that if I could turn back the hands of time, I would be the best man and husband there ever will be.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t. I had to live with past hanging heavily on my shoulders. I would have to live with the pain of being addressed as an evil man, the past brought me pains that even forgiveness can’t heal.
Notwithstanding, I had not given up on myself. That I can’t erase the past won’t stop me from writing the future. I decided to man up, face whatever punishment that may come and move on with life.
I was still deep in thoughts when a police officer walked up to the cell, his eyes searching through like he was looking for a lost property.
“Hey! You there!” Came his wooden baritone voice.
“Get up! You’ll follow me to the visiting room, you have some visitors.” He commanded with his gazed fixed on me.
Visitors? It took almost two weeks for people to remember that I exist. I hurriedly stood up on my feet as he pushed open the door. He immediately handcuffed me and held on to me by my waist.
He took me to a very small room. And as soon as I entered, he locked the door against me. It was a very small room; square shape and had only a wooden chair inside. It had a small opening protected by irons rails.
“You’ll have only fifteen minutes to talk with your visitors.” The policeman said to me from the opening.
“Let me get them.” He said, walking hastily out of sight.
I anxiously waited, wondering to see who the visitors were. One thing I knew was that I wasn’t ready to face my parents.
Almost a minute passed before the visitors finally showed up. My pupils dilated, my jaw dropped. I was in disbelief to see who was in front of me…