Author | Olamilekan Afolabi
Source | Coolval
Kidnapper! Kidnapper!! Kidnapper!!! Some villagers were chasing a kidnaper frantically and deucedly, some were chasing her bare-footed. Children, youths and adults were after the irritating kidnapper. All the villagers were handling a weapon each like stones, sticks, cutlasses, swords and all different forms of weapon. I was on my way to the bush, I wanted to go and search for leftover fruit and viands, so as to quench our hunger and esurience.
The kidnapper who was wearing a cloth similar to that of my mother ran into the uncompleted building we are sojourning. She ran past my mother who needed insistent.
“Why is this one running?” my mother asked rhetorically.
The angry hot-blooded villagers/chaser ran into the uncompleted building, they saw my mother lying down mewling.
“This is a prank, she is the one, and she is wearing the same cloth”. One of those angry pursuers noted. “Yes, she is the one.” The other chasers replicates in chorus.
“You think you are wise (pointing to my mother).” The Youth Leader uttered.
“What are you insinuating, I don’t un………………………” my mother never conclude her words before the youth leader bang into her words.
“Stone her to death”. The youth leader commanded.
In short, my mother was stoned to death by the hot-blooded villagers who were pursing the kidnapper.
The chasers carried my mother’s lifeless body in front of the uncompleted building; they were ready to set her dead body ablaze.
I came back from the bush with a bag full of different fruits in likes of Guava, Cashew, Mango and Orange. I saw many villagers holding different type of weapon in front the uncompleted building. I drop the bag containing the fruits as I ran to the scene to see what is happening. Lo and behold, my dear mother is dead, she has been stoned to death by the angry villagers, she was accused and killed for the crime she didn’t commit, what a life of injustice. I wept bitterly, no one to console me, the wild, angry, raging, furious and tempestuous villagers were baffled, befuddled, at sea, lost and confused at my reactions on the death of my beloved and darling mother.
“Do you know her?” The village youth leaders asked confusing.
“You have killed my mother.” I cried out loud as I bang my mother’s chest so she would notice me, but no, she is dead. The villagers were all surprised at the same time shocked.
“So you are the daughter of this foul, loathe, disgusting, skanky and repelling kidnapper.” One of the wild villagers said inhumanely.
“My mother is not a kidnapper, we are immigrant here, and we couldn’t find shelter from your people, so we decided to sleep here (pointing to the uncompleted building) for a night before we continue our journey to nowhere. I went to the bush to look for something to eat with my mother, but I meet my mother lying here lifeless and she was killed by you callous”. I uttered weeping bitterly. All attentions were on me, the villagers did not know what to do, they were so mixed-up, they looks at one another face thinking they mistoom my mother for the real kidnapper.
“I know they were kidnappers, they came to my house yesterday to beg for asylum, shelter and hideout in which I refused bluntly, thank God I did not allow them in, maybe my only son would have become their prey”. A female villager who we begged for shelter from yesterday uttered unkindly.
“You are also acting smart like your mother right? If you can fool some people, you can’t twat all of us, so you don’t deserve to live because if we leave you to live now, you will later take up your mother’s job (Kidnapping), so I think we should also stone her to death.” The village youth leader address at the same time command the depressed villagers.
“Don’t stone her, I will enslave her and I will pay her price this instant.” Behold it was the rich and popular slave trader/dealer from Lagos though he haste from that village.
The Slave Dealer and The Villager Youth Leader opt for a very serene part of the uncompleted building to have some privacy to negotiate on my price.
(Few minutes later)
The Village Youth Leader signaled with his hand to the other villagers to varnish from the scene.
“Shackle her leg with this chain.” He commands as he throws a chain to one of his guard.
“My lord, please I have a last entreaty to make before we leave this locality and I will be glad if you can grant my request”. I said totally discouraged.
“Okay am listening.” The slave trader said, outing a fake smile from his cheeks.
“Please let me bury my beloved dead mother before my leg will be shackled.” I said pleading.
“Is that all?” The slave dealer asked with approval expression from his face.
“Yes, this will be my last entreaty here.” I responded crying.
“You (signaling to one of his guard) dig a grave at that far end of this building; let her bury her yucky and disgusting mother, because we are leaving for Lagos tomorrow.” The slave trader approved, concludes at the same time command.