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|Crushed /short-story/ *New* by Mathicks(m): 7:47pm On Oct 23, 2013|
We were outside with the others, looking at the unfolding events. Everybody was talking to somebody. Nobody gave anybody the opportunity to talk for more that twelve seconds before they kick started their own talk. Everyone had his own view of the situation on ground. At a point, it seemed like I was the only one listening. I turned my head slightly to look at the shouting woman who was frantically raining threats on Bros Okon, as we called him. Bros Okon was just sitting on a bench beside his shop, his face in his hands. He got up and started to lock up his shop but his face frowned as he took another look at Bisi. Aunty Bisi, as some of us called her, was still shouting at the top of her voice, never seeming to get tired. Her voice, however, had cracked. Her face was still red from the slaps she had received earlier.
''you ehn, you! You! You dont know me oh! you do not know me at all. Who are you?? Who are you?? You you..you..you common poor man. You dare slap me. You dare slap me. Me?? Me!! The daughter of Fadeke! You do not know anything...''
Other women were restraining her, obviously not because they were scared she would go and beat up Bros Okon, but because they knew if they let her go, she would receive another slap and return to them.
A smirk formed on Bros Okon's face.
''Who is she threatening? Me?'' I imagined was what he must have been thinking.
It was evening, around six o'clock, i think.
It was already getting dark, and the noise was reducing.
As i took another glance at Aunty Bisi, I burst out laughing. Well, not outwardly though. I was laughing within myself. I laughed because I remembered the events that had led to this hullabaloo.
Bros Okon was in his shop, doing his everyday work. His generator was singing its favourite song outside and the side which held its exhaust pipe was facing Aunty Bisi's shop. Ronke had been sitting with Aunty Bisi for a while, chatting and gossiping, and other things women do. She saw Bros Okon put on his generator and its exhaust pipe was facing where they sat. They were sitting at an angle ninety to Aunty Bisi's shop and so the smoke was directly at them. It was not much though, but that did not stop Ronke from asking Aunty Bisi why she had allowed that kind of thing and not said anything. Aunty Bisi had told her not to worry about it, that she was already used to it. She called Bros Okon a ''stupid man'', that he always did stupid things and she did not have time to start a quarell with him. Everybody knows that there had always been bad-blood between Aunty Bisi and Bros Okon ever since he started selling some of the things that she sold. He was selling them as a side business to add to what he was doing already.
Ronke, however, could not take it. She felt it was unfair that somebody should do such and be allowed to just get away with it.
Ronke stood. Aunty Bisi gripped her arm but she wriggled her arm out of the grip. She walked energetically towards Bros Okon's shop.
''Bisi said that the smoke is disurbing her shop,'' she started rudely.
''ahn ahn..smoke from your gen naw''
''ehn, tell her to come and tell me by herself then''
''I'm telling you that the smoke is disturbing us there and you are telling me another thing''
Bros Okon got up from his plastic chair.
''I said you should go and tell her to come by herself,'' he said, obviously pissed off by Ronke's rudeness.
Aunty Bisi didnt want to leave Ronke alone at the war front, so she came forward to help out.
Ronke did not calm down, she continued.
''Stupid man, people are telling you that your smoke is disturbing, you are not...''
Before she could complete the statement, a slap had tested her face.
She fell to the floor and was clearly dazed as she fell again when she was trying to get up.
Aunty Bisi was about to chip in something that we never got to hear, because as she motioned her mouth to talk, a slap also landed on her left cheek. She became imbecilic immediately. She did not give up. She tried to talk again, and another slap landed on her right cheek. Even from where I sat, and in the near darkness, i could see Bros Okon's fingers on her face like a tatoo.
That was when everybody rushed to interfere and help out.
In another five minutes, the two parties were like boxers at different ends of the ring. Bros Okon was on one end with people talking to him, some advicing, some just ''whyning'' him. On the other end, Aunty Bisi was being attended to by fellow women. They were also talking with her and pleading.
Soon, people started leaving them and returning to what they were doing before the incident. That was when Aunty Bisi started screaming, wording curses and abuses. Ronke was nowhere to be found.
It was later I discovered that she had gone to phone some people about what happened.
After thirty minutes, Bros Okon had locked his shop and was sitting on the bench outside his shop. Three other boys were sitting with him.
|Re: Crushed /short-story/ *New* by Mathicks(m): 8:10pm On Oct 23, 2013|
NB: this is a real life story, just a little fictionalised. ..A little bit.
If you enjoyed this writing, please support me by just taking 10mins of your time to vote for my story in the etisalat prize competition ''Life Is Just Funny''. http://etisalatprize.com/life-is-just-funny/ ..Thanks alot guys! You're awesome!!
|Re: Crushed /short-story/ *New* by Mathicks(m): 8:11pm On Oct 23, 2013|
One of the three boys was just there staring blankly at something. I didnt really care what he was staring at, as he wasnt important. The other two were listening to Bros Okon's lamentations and occasionally chipping in some words.
Suddenly, a car drove by and stopped. Four boys highlighted and were walking towards the bench. Their faces were angered and clearly, they had not come to buy something from Bros Okon's shop.
''Who is Okon?'' one asked.
''who is Okon?'' another asked.
And like Judas Iscariot in the bible, one of the boys who was sitting with Bros Okon and giving ears to his lamentations just pointed slightly to him. Betrayed by the finger.
In the form of camera flashes, a thunderous slap had landed across the face of Bros Okon.
''Let me explain...let me ex..''
another slap ensued.
''wait, wait, you dont unders..''
A punch brushed his chin.
I think it was then Bros Okon got the drift. The more you talk, the more the pain.
The boys dragged Bros Okon away from the chair and towards the sandy road.
I stay off campus, in a very big house with a huge compound. The landlord lined up about ten shops along the fence, most of which have been taken. The area was some-what local, or let me say, in a much more enclosed environment. The street was not straight and was deserted most of the time, so just the people outside at that time and who lived close-by, could see what was happening.
As the boy dragging him let go of his shirt, another boy cleared Bros Okon, and he fell to the floor.
They were beating him so much, I frequently looked at my own skin to make sure it was still okay. I did not envy Bros Okon at this point in time. Kicks to his face, chest and everywhere their legs could get to.
One of them looked at all of us and carried a stick. He moved swiftly towards us, shouting, ''go inside, will you go inside!!''. We all scrambled inside. Curiousity, however, did not allow us stay inside for a long time. When we got out again, I noticed that all the shops around had closed up.
Bros Okon was on the ground, and they were delibrating on putting him in their car trunk. Deep in my mind, I knew that if he entered that trunk, he was not coming back.
Suddenly, Bros Okon got to his feet and took flight. Everybody was awed by what was happening. In some seconds, however, we could see them bringing him back and slapping his head. They went to fetch sticks and branches from the plants around and used the weapons they had acquired on him. I felt pity for him. I even felt like we had betrayed him. Somebody who was our friend, who did his business right in front of our house, who we saw everyday and joked with every other day, was now being beaten like an animal in front of our house! Our big house! With many people in it, and we were just there looking, looking as helpless as the man on the ground himself.
For a brief moment, i felt brave. I wanted to implore everybody to fetch sticks and chase these strangers out of our territory, but..but..but.
They chased us inside again. We ran for our own lives.
After a while, we heard an engine start. We waited a little, then went outside. It was dark already. We could see a figure moving on the ground, and for a brief moment, I thanked God that he was alive.
We moved towards him. I made sure I was not in front.
He was bleeding. He was messed up. His clothes were ripped apart already and I started wondering how he would go home. He had a wife!
One of the boys who also lived in the house went inside and came out a minute later with a short.
When Bros Okon got up, i could see the brutality.
My subconscious laughed again. This time it wasnt a laugh of humour, it was a laugh of uncertainty. ''No one is safe in this world,'' I thought.
The following day, Bros Okon's shop was not opened, throughout.
|Re: Crushed /short-story/ *New* by merit12(f): 12:44pm On Oct 24, 2013|
bumper to bumper ,my dear i have got you cover write why i read and again how about copy copy copy dem nor go thief ur story?
|Re: Crushed /short-story/ *New* by Habidab(m): 12:48pm On Oct 24, 2013|
Anywhere you go just always highlight your link,am enjoying it.its highly humorous.
I just can't stop laughing
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