Never Never
4 min read
Lights Off!
There was a sudden dashing thud
Racing towards the living crowd
This happened as fast
and as sudden as lightning
“Turn on your flash!”
Echoed and resounded through out the living crowd
The thud stopped, and a smoke spoke loudly
Softly blinding every particle or wave of light.
Or whatever they’ve chosen to identify as.
Then came the first school of bangs.
Thunderously cracking, hastily deafening the living crowd
As well as knocking us off our balance.
This started a race to
nowhere, somewhere, everywhere.
Anywhere far away from the source of the bangs.
“Turn on your flash!”
Another resound ran through the crowd
“Video and snap!”
A gentle drizzle of rain flashed.
Unannounced
Splashed sideways
A raucous scream sequeled it
Prequel to the scream was a masculine grasp.
Clutching my hand like therein resides the breath of life.
I turned back and I saw myself, battling for one more breath
“Perhaps that was her last breath”
My thoughts roared
“Run motherfucker run!”
An antithetical thought bellowed.
Bellowed orders to my legs,
As they carried the rest of my life in their hands,
galloping to
nowhere, somewhere, everywhere.
Anywhere far away from the source of the bangs.
My legs made a U-turn,
vroomed towards the lady on the ground.
My hands did give her life.
Even if it was for a second, a minute,
a lifetime. Absolutely felt like a lifetime
Her tongue was drowning in her blood
Her lips smiled
Bewilderment erupted from her eyes
Terror effused from her once pampered skin
Her countenance was of one that was terrified that they were terrified.
She was embalmed in perplexity
and she smelled like uncertainty.
Her nose grappled for more breath of life
from my hands,
till her head laid heavily still on my palm
till her nose drew her last breath.
The ambiance was raw and unaltered
Not single word was uttered
Until I felt a sting,
More than a sting, a sharp pain
that multiplied exponentially and intensely
In a split of second, I was howling,
crying for help. For myself, for her, for who. calling
no-one, someone, everyone.
Anyone running away from the source of the bangs.
I was crowd crushed
Until I could neither feel, hear, say, nor see a thing.
Got dreadlocks. You are a suspect.
Plaited hair. Suspect.
Got a tattoo. Suspect.
Looking fresh. Suspect.
Using an iPhone. Suspect.
Any expensive phone makes you a suspect.
Young and riding a machine. 98% sure he’s a suspect.
“Park Park!”
License? Check.
Papers? Check.
Insurance? Check.
Roadworthy? Check.
Road tax? Check.
“Engine number nkor?
“E sure say that phone na you own, wey the receipt?”
“The receipt dey house”
“I talk am this boy na yahoo boy.
See him head,
see the kind motor him dey drive self.”
‘’Oga officer……”
Two slaps registered like a George Foreman’s punch
and a buttstroke to snatch his voice off his mouth.
Leaving a loud tinnitus and silent obedience on their trail.
With a gun to his head, needless to say
self-advocacy & defiance drove into
Unresponsive wakefulness syndrome.
“Save your saliva, na for our station you go explain yourself.
I sure say you no even get receipt for this laptop.”
One thing led to another
Familiar dissimilar events unfolded in a chaotic order
My brother from another mother
was found in a hospital
brutalised beyond what our family eyes could recognise
And robbed as clean as a tear rubber ₦100 note.
Brought in by Good Samaritans
Some of which cinema-ed the events till the end credits.
Here’s post credits scene in one sentence.
Doctors refused to treat him because of lack of police report
and he died due to internal haemorrhage, traumatic pneumothorax, and visible fatal injuries.
It was my second day here
I’ve never felt so much alive.
Alive with a living;
breathing,
breeding,
eating,
moving and growing purpose.
Every part of my body and soul was electrified
Goosebumps were frequent and rather
erratically unpredictable
Unlike the goosebumps plus teary eyes that
were frequent and un-erratically predictable.
Especially, when one of us lauded the growing living crowd.
Or informed us about food, shelter, drinks, medication and legal services
that were being provided by other youths and supporters, home and abroad.
Or alerted us about the increasing danger as we soldier on to another day.
Another day, same cry, same purpose.
Purpose that neither needs to be explained nor explain itself
Highly contagious and infectious like SARS
There existed no more favourable breeding ground
than here, in this, …the living crowd.
It felt right.
It feels right.
It is right.
It must be right.
I have never felt this right before in my entire life
Right in my heart
Right in my soul
Right in my being
Right in my rights.
Since he died I lost will to live
Suicidal thoughts felt right
and were rightfully given increased airtime in my headspace.
In this living crowd, looking up to his face
felt warm and hopeful
Devoid of my victimhood,
paralytic helplessness and entrenched self-pity.