We know the big boys run the town; they make the city roar and come alive. The blue disco lights decorate the streets with songs blasting from very old speakers. Cars are parked outside, some borrowed, some stolen. The ones with real owners are struggling to keep their parts together with broken rear view mirrors, almost flat tires and faded paints that won't let you identify their real color. Smokes from cigarettes are swimming in the air, empty bottles of champagne, whiskey and vodka are on the plastic tables. Eyes are blazing like fire, minds are traveling far from sanity.
See them trying to stand and at the same time, they fall. There are no children around but the young boys who were influenced are not young boys anymore. They know more than you do.The ladies? These ones have lost themselves in moments of pleasure. Life to them is drugs, sex, moans, orgasm and money. Nothing more, nothing less. Their skimpy dresses won't make a scarf for a Sunday outfit, yet they walk about in it. Looking at them, you will start to wonder why they had bothered to even put on any garment of clothing. Their breasts are mostly in full view of public eyes, this is how the weak men who claim to be strong fall into their seductive display of body parts that are no longer private.
Their best customers are the married men. Ah! Those ones have enough money to spend on them, so they are their targeted audience. This is a bar in the ghetto, welcome to the ghetto. Stone throws away is a small room standing on it's own in a face me, I face you setting. Sikel is a single mother, deserted by family and stigmatized by friends who promised to always be there. The young man, one of the big boys in the ghetto had denied the pregnancy, so she did little jobs and her wages was a means of living from hand to mouth. Though it wasn't enough to cater for herself and her growing daughter, at least they had something.
The city is alive and bubbling tonight being a Friday. She was home now, and happy that she had gotten some more money for their up keep. The little candle was the only light that dared to compete with the thick darkness.There was a knock on the door. She had no friends who came to visit, or maybe their neighbors are trying to be friendly now or could it be Bami, the guy who was fond of her little girl and sometimes helped out when he could? The knock was quite gentle and urgent. She stood up, raising her daughter's head that was resting on her thighs, to peep through the window. She could barely make out the faces, she was still skeptical if she was to open the door or not when the door was forced open.
She was face to face with some of the big boys, though these ones didn't look familiar. She opened her mouth to scream because it was never a good sign for the big boys to visit in the night. They had guns and knives in their hands. Her screams? She gulped them as the force of the gag burned her lips. Seven years old Pami was made to take off her pants, spread her legs wide open and be an altar for worship by men who had no control over their sexual urge. She struggled, she threw her arms in the air, soon she had lost strength. What strength does a six year old girl possess to fight off a muscular man? The money was taken, Pami's mother was not left alone either.She was a toy for all three men. When one tore her bra and pulled her nipples with his teeth so hard that she let out a scream audible to herself alone, the others watched. When another tore her pant and spilled his sperm all over her face, the others laughed.
The bar wasn't enough, her room was made their next party hall. A trigger was pulled, Sikel was shot in the head, Pami moved to help her mother and took the first bullet from her own father, a father she had not known, one her mother had failed to recognize cause it was night. They wouldn't stop and fired the second shot. Sikel and her six years old daughter were together in a bloody hug of eternal rest from life in the ghetto. The big boys enjoyed the flow of blood and took off to their next party hall.
Do not tell me the devil is in hell, he lives amongst men and lives in the most unluckiest of men.
by Joy Okwori, published 1 month ago
I was once imprisoned by words whose aura is darkness. I was held down in this prison by unfriendly forces, so I sat on a stool of uncertainty as I held the moon.
I crawled through the night with gritted teeth, like one with no hope. And I couldn't dance because shackles held my feet.
Yesterday was once, today doesn't make it twice. I breakout, I don't belong to prison; the Judge said so. I smelt like rotten tomatoes, frail from tireless torture.
The Judge beckoned with open arms, and I ran with the speed of light. My accusers didn't know what crime to nail me with. The Judge knew what currency to bail me with; the blood.
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by eli-smooth, published 2 months, 4 weeks ago
The ride down the empty hill felt like a deluge. Five people cramped into an old Peugeot 504. The car jolted its way down the rough terrain and with each sharp turn, their eyes narrowed with despair.
The driver was Kelechi, a 22 year old medical student who had joined the fraternity about a month ago. His low hanging beard chiseled into his sharp jaw-line. The scar that was above his eye gave him a menacing look.
“How could this happen?” He wondered as he drove through the rickety slope. His eyes squinted a little as he swerved to avoid a goat that had moved into their path. The sudden swerve forced the engine to quake mildly and shut down.
They all moved out into the open space.
Silence lingered for a while.
“What do we do now?” Simi asked. Her dark skin glistening under the low light of orange setting sun. She was a psychology student. Brilliant but edgy; unwilling to succumb to the wild stereotypes that followed the other women in her life.
“We do nothing; we just bury the body where no one can find it” Sam whispered coldly.
Leah winced and paced the space around them, sobbing gently as she walked from side to side. She seemed the most distraught of the five. She wondered how different the day before had been and wondered if her life would ever be the same.
But it was the fifth person who seemed the most odd.
His tattoos were visible under the sleeveless shirt he had on. A nose piercing marked him out from the rest of them. He barely talked as the others encircled the empty bushes around. He just leaned on the car and peacefully disappeared into his thoughts.
“We were only supposed to scare him” Simi lamented. Her voice seemed to echo a distant regret.
“I keep asking what happened and no one wants to tell me. We were all on the same plan but as soon as I turn to take a leak, I return and find a fucking dead body on the floor. What happened while I was gone?” Kelechi asked. He seemed to be screaming at everyone else.
“Is it that important? Would you rather not have the truth be a little subdued from your conscience now?” Goni, the boy with the tattoos whispered back at Kelechi. His voice was cold, almost haunting.
“I don’t know. I didn’t sign up for this.” Kelechi confessed.
“Oh, so you think we all woke up and planned a murder and you were the only person out of the loop?” Simi asked angrily.
Kelechi looked away. His hands shaking under the weight of his deepest thoughts.
Sam chuckled slyly as he watched Leah’s wandering theatrics. He seemed calmer than he was a few minutes ago.
“The truth is right here. Whatever we say it is” Sam cuts in. The others looked at him. He nodded. They all nod back except for Goni.
“We still haven’t answered the most pertinent question though. Who poisoned the little old chap?” He asked calmly.
“Does it matter, we all know he was a dwindling, two faced monster” Leah said.
She had stopped pacing and sobbing. She seemed calmer and her big round eyes cut into her beautiful face. Sam looked at her in admiration
“We all knew that, but we also knew that the idea was to scare him and not to murder. So who amongst us had the most reasons to murder him?” Goni asked.
They all went quiet. The few seconds left between their breaths built up a reckless angst. Leah stared at each of their faces. She wondered who amongst them fits the murder type best..
Sam was a nerd.
It was odd that the frat boys loved him but underneath his queer humor and deep lingering eyes, there was no reason to suspect that he could be a killer. Leah thought. Simi was mostly indifferent; capable of the mundane but also the awe inspiring moments. Her calculative mind set her apart as the most logical of the group.
Kelechi was by matter of chance, the only one that was unavailable when they witnessed the death.
Goni was the one who seemed the most vulnerable to accusations. He had fought with the dead boy just a few minutes before the boy broke into a fit. He seemed more dangerous than anyone else and he also seemed to be nonchalant about the corpse that lay in the trunk of the car that had just stopped.
The five of them stood in an arc as the trunk was slowly being opened. The three boys straddle the body and move it towards the empty path that led one into the bushes. The rustling of the leaves just in front of them stopped them in their tracks.
A Park ranger had his gun pointed at them. The boys surrendered and raised their hands. The Ranger looked on in surprise.
“Who killed him?” He asked as he nudged the safety of the gun; turning it off.
The group stood, staring at him in silence.
“Who killed my partner?” The Ranger asked again.
This time his gun was pointed at a visibly distraught Simi.
She was overcome with fear.
She poisoned him because he raped her” Simi confessed.
The boys look back at Leah, stunned.
Leah’s face bore a look of resignation.
“Thanks so much for having my back; Lover” she said in disgust.
They boys all stood stunned. Processing both news that had crept into their ears.