#SocialInjustice. “I no go touch am o” – Kingsley Asoegwu

#SocialInjustice. “I no go touch am o” – Kingsley Asoegwu

“I no go touch am o”

“but the guy say make we help am na”

“oga, I no help”

“me sef, I no want police case”

“him no dey breath again o”

“him don die so?”

“guy, you wan touch am?”

“touch am make you write statement, you go talk wetin kill am”

“baba, me don comot here”

“abeg wait me, this one just come die here make e put person for wahala”

“nawa, I juss pity him people”

“if you pity am call police na”

“dey pity na, police no ask you that one”.

*Hours earlier*.

He was travelling for business when their car was waylaid by armed robbers who started shooting sporadically ordering everyone to surrender their valuables.
He panicked, he had never been in this situation, he had never been robbed. He always heard stories people told about being robbed on the highway, he always imagined how it would be. Today he was seeing it and it felt cold like death.

The armed robbers who were armed to the teeth ordered everyone to lie on the freezing cold tar, they separated the males from the females. One group of robbers took the females into the bushes as they announced they would rape every one of them. Pleas rented the air, the women begged and cried, a girl stood up, she said she would prefer they shoot her dead rather than being raped, she hadn’t finished her statement when a man walked up to her and shot her in the head. She fell, he could see her brain matter splatter all over the ground.

Everyone scampered as the girl was shot, they ran in different directions and the armed robbers started shooting. They shot indiscriminately into the pitch black darkness. Some travellers lay dead on the highway as few survivors ran into the surrounding bushes. He ran like never before, he ran and ran, adrenaline was on a high, he ran towards a place he saw bright lights close to the highway. He felt pain in his stomach as he ran, for once he did not stop. Minutes ago he had just seen people die, the only time he had seen where this kind of atrocity committed was on television. He tried counting how many people he had seen lying in a pool of blood, he just couldn’t. He was cold, his mouth was dry and he just realised he was bleeding.

He approached a compound and saw people inside. With the last strength in him he ran into the compound “please help me” he said before he fell to the ground just in front of the compound.

He heard people talking, he tried speaking he couldn’t, seemed like his voice had betrayed him, he motioned at the directions the voice came from”, in minutes it seemed as if his body felt light, he couldn’t move his fingers again, time stopped then he stopped breathing.

*The present*

“Police, person don die o”

“where be that”

“that swamp side around that mama Bomboy bar”

“nawa, these street boy, una don kill person again abi?”

“Oga Police, make una come carry de deadi body abeg, leave tori”

“shut up my fren, wetin kill am sef?”

“we know? We never touch the deadi body na”

“e good as una no touch am o, because una for disrupt evidence collection, we dey road”

 

**Minutes later**

“nawa, see fine boy, na gun shot wound o”

“check if him get ID card there”

“no, no ID card”

“corporal, you sef, how cult boy wan carry ID card, dem dey give ID card for cult?”

“all these boys wey no dey hear wordi, sidon one place dem no go gree, now him don die go”

“abeg put the body for motor make we carry go station make him people come identify their deadi body”

 

*Hours later*.

His mother tries her sons number but it rings but no one is picking, she calls again and the line goes dead. She becomes concerned. Her son would have called her as soon as he gets to his destination, why isn’t he picking his calls she wondered. She tries sleeping that night but couldn’t, she dreamt about her son, she woke up and said a prayer of protection for him.

The next morning she put on the TV and saw the news, armed robbers had attacked a bus the previous night, no survivors, it was a gruesome sight to behold the newscaster said, appeared they were shot dead, execution style the newscaster said. His mother recognizes the bus, same bus her son entered, same city the bus was going to, and her son number wasn’t reachable that morning. She put one and one together and broke down crying. The neighbours came and she narrated everything to them. The neighbours headed to the police station and some went to the transport company park.

A party arrived at the transport company park. They inquired and they were told what really happened. They confirmed he was in the bus and also confirmed where the bus was travelling to. That was the information they had for now.

The other party got to the police station. They were told to first file a missing persons report and give every information they had gathered. They did and was told to go home.
“we’ll call you when he have anything new” the CP told the oldest man in the group.

His mother couldn’t sleep nor eat. She had began mourning her son, she would cry and cry. Her neighbors adviced her to go stay over at her sisters place. A widow she was, she raised her only son alone when his father died years ago. He was everything she wanted in a son. They lived together mother and son before he embarked on that ill fated journey.

*Two days later*

“wetin we go do that deadi body na”?

“I know?”

“you sure say we no go sell am give all these medical students make them use down their experiments?”

“but nobody get that deadi body true true?”

“nawa for you, who go claim cultist deadi body?”

“you know if na to come kill person him come to kill here then the boys here kill am?”

“e fit be o, you get point”

“call Dr, make him come carry this one deadi body, make him use am do wetin him dey use others do”.

*Weeks later*

His mother had waited. Everytime they called the police station for information they’ll be told to wait by their phones, “we’ll get back to you”.

was the words she had been hearing for weeks now. She left the town for the village. Preparations began for his burial. They hadn’t seen his body, they assumed he had died so they would bury an empty coffin. The thoughts of her son’s body rotting somewhere made her cry the more, her health deteriorated, she looked paler and leaner.

*In the police station*

The doctor came by and demanded to see the corpse he would be purchasing. A price was agreed upon and he asked the police men to put the body into his boot, they did and he drove off.

“Oga you get call o”

“from where”

“from CP office”

“okay put am through”

The DPO spent time on the phone with the Commissioner of Police telling him how his branch did not come across any one that matched the description he saw on his computer.

“are you sure you don’t have him”

“positive sir, no one like that here”

.”okay, keep up the good work”

“thank you sir”

**************

The police called and said they had no information about the whereabouts of their son.

“we have no information about what happened to him, we’ll be closing the investigation”

Hearing the news his mother fainted. Everyone present cried. They asked the police men more questions. Every question thrown at the police was answered with the only information they had.

“there’s nothing we can do, we’ve done everything” the police man told his uncle.
“my condolences with your family”

*4 days later*

A little ceremony was held before an empty coffin was dropped into the earth.

*In a University Medical campus somewhere*

A lecturer is taking medical students around a dissected human cadarva lecturing them and poking the cadarva to drive home his lesson.

I am…
#fearless.

 

About the Author:

Kingsley Asoegwu writes for the contemporary screen. He captures with the challenges of social justice with a deep and quiet ease. taking you on a roller-coaster ride through familiar terrains, communicating very wisely. He is young and #fearless, waiting to captivate.

You can reach him on
+2348105741691 – WhatsApp only
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AsoegwuKingsley

Twitter: @iamfearlessking
Instagram: abum_fearless
Whatsapp: 08105741691.

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