Sincere

It is the first day of the month and she is feeling really positive, so she set out as usual by herself looking for money

she was only nine, but she had mastered the trade quite well. She will stand at the road side and wait for the traffic lights to turn red.That was how her mother did. ‘Just watch the cars, aim for the shinny ones’ she’ll say.

Amina saw the lights turn yellow then red and she made her way to the first car, it was a shinny red car, she walked to the drivers side trying to peer into it. She found that making eye contact often helped, on this occasion however she was nervous because this car had tinted windows.

‘Please give me some money, I don’t have any money, Please, Please’ she spoke to the Driver leaning against the car, she was sure he could see her. She could see her reflection on the window; her brown curly hair flying wildly from an old pony tail, her top was torn at the sleeves, and her face was covered in filth.

The driver moved forward, he was trying to get her off his car.

She stepped back spontaneously and walked away, ‘what a waste of time’ she thought. She  looked at the next car, it was an old raggedy van. The driver seemed old and poor, she could not decide whether it was worth the effort begging this man. She looked back at the traffic light and saw that she only had about 30 seconds till it turned green. So she gave the van a chance, ‘please give me some…’ the driver stopped her mid way into her chant and threw two green notes at her. There were twenty Naira notes. She jumped at them like a hungry dog. ‘Thank you sir’ she said with excitement in her voice. ‘God bless madam and the family’ she kept thanking him as he drove off.

In that moment Amina learned a weird lesson, it was not about the car as mother had taught her, but it was about whether the giver was sincere or not.

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This is a response to today’s one-word prompt ‘sincere’, make sure you participate before the day runs out.

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I failed to tell

He doesn’t hold my hand as tightly as he did before.
I know why, I just cannot believe that he would be so affected by it.
He found out that I had lied to him. I had failed to share with him a vital part about my past, I kept him in the dark all those years to protect him. At least that is how I wanted to rationalise it.
10 years ago I found out that I had fibroids. I was shocked, ashamed and confused. I was not married then. The doctors ran me through my options. The option I picked then is what separates me from him.

We are waiting at the bus stop on a cold Monday morning about to board the 61 to town.
We chose to get rid of our cars a few months ago because of Kola’s new found green love. He wanted to save the planet so badly that our life style changed with each new conservation idea. I loved seeing him passionate about something and I welcomed each innovation by complying.
We have two cats and a small house. We were living the life for three years. No external family, no comments. We were a perfect fit in this society.

Sitting in my dressing room taking off my make makeup after work, I wonder what sort of woman I had become. I lied to my husband, and now he does not look at me like he did before.
Was it really a lie, or had I just failed to tell him. Was an omission a lie?
I remember when we met we had dreams of travelling and living in a foreign country. He never once mentioned children. He was not a big fan. But I couldn’t tell whether he was just selfish being an only child, or he was kidding. At least now I know he wasn’t kidding. I mean what man knows what he wants at 23?

I resented what I had done. I was afraid, I did not know what telling him would do to us. I was sure he would still love me, but I was not certain. Especially because Anika was in the picture, it was too risky. So I kept my secret to my self and looked at him everyday wondering if he would love me the same way if I told him what I had done.

He walked into the room and ignored my existence. It was already a month since I told him, he was not over it. I deserved it, I did not blame him. I was selfish, and anything that would result from this I decided to accept.

‘You cannot keep ignoring me like this, I’m sorry, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this’ I said almost in a whisper.
‘I’ll stop ignoring you when I am ready June. I mean how could you, how could you do this to me, to us?’
‘I had no choice, it was spreading, I was going to die. I decided to have a hysterectomy to save my life!’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? We dated for three years, yet you kept it from me. What am I going to tell my mum, that you are barren?’ That word rang in to the air louder than the bells of a cathedral.
‘You don’t have to tell her anything, we can adopt, there are other ways out of this…’ I tried to save the situation.

He had one hand up with his eyes shut as if trying to block my words. ‘I can’t do this’ he mumbled storming out of the room. I stood up and held his arm. There was so much anger tied up in his muscles that I let go immediately.

‘Are u ending us?’ I said.
He paused, sighed heavily and shut the door angrily.
I knew it was over.

I had ended us not him by failing to share my secret with him. There are few things in this world that hurt a man, and I know now that concealing secrets is one of them.

Stalking

It was 6am. She did not need  to check her phone’s clock. Andrea could hear the shuffle from next door, and knew that her brother was about to make his way downstairs through his bedroom window. A ritual he seemed to do each morning for over a month. She heard his window open, followed by his perfect landing. Each morning, he left home and returned twenty minutes later in the same way. No one seemed to notice Peter’s absence, except her. Today she decided to find out what he was up to. 

Andrea was not sure why her older brother left the house each morning at the same time, but she felt it had something to do with the bullies at school, since it began about the same time. Peter was 16 and one of the tallest in his year- it crushed Andrea watching her big brother getting punched by the boys in his year. She knew she should have done something about it but she couldn’t- it all happened too quickly. Since then Andrea had hated herself for not standing up for her big brother and so felt personally responsible for his welfare.

Like the past mornings she watched Peter pick up his back pack and run through the driveway carefully concealing himself under the shadows of the building.

Andrea knew the only way she could help her brother was to follow him. She had tried a week ago to talk about it, but he grew more distant and upset. She did not want to tell Mum because she wanted to be sure she knew what she was talking about. As if rationalising why she had to follow Peter, Andrea spent the next minute convincing herself as she pushed her window up, she was afraid of heights and only realised then how high the duplex was, so shut the window. She made her way downstairs as quietly as possible through the back door. She ran to the front of the house facing the street. She could not find Peter ‘I wasn’t fast enough’ she thought. She walked a hundred yards up the street and instinctively took the lane on the right as if heading towards the city. That was when she spotted the green jumper and the black bag pack. She ran after Peter who was walking at a much faster pace. As she closed the distance between them she noticed that Peter had not once turned around- they were only two metres apart, and she was sure she had made enough noise for her brother to know he was being followed. 

Peter had made so many turns already that Andrea knew it would be a bad idea to go back home alone without getting lost. Andrea observed Peter’s demeanour and she realised something was not right. She was convinced it was her brother- this was his jumper and his back pack, however his gait was weird. He seemed to be slowing down and staggering. Something was not right. She  summoned up the courage and finally called at him, ‘Peter, where are you going?’

He stopped walking, as she attempted to touch him, he began walking even faster now, not once turning. Andrea felt for her phone to call her mum, but there was no network service. So she ran after him. 

‘Peter. Stop!’ Andrea reached for his arm like a little girl trying to get her father’s attention.

Peter stopped walking, but did not turn to look at Andrea.

‘Listen, whatever is happening to you I can help you’ Andrea still had her hand on his arm, and tried to get a better look at Peter. 

His eyes were unblinking and stoned. He refused to look at her.

‘Peter, let’s go home’ she said, trying to get him to look at her. ‘Home is that way’ She pointed in the opposite direction.

He suddenly pushed her aside and kept walking, not looking at her.

Andrea watched as Peter walked away, but she was not sure if she should still keep going.

Andrea and her family had just moved into the neighbourhood, she had no idea where she was, and for some reason her phone was not working. 

She ran after Peter as he made his way into a dirt path now. There were no buildings at this part of town just bare land, and make-shift homes. Andrea tried to remain calm, and maintained a hundred yards from her brother. He stopped at one of the shanty structures and took out a parcel from his back pack and turned in her direction, as if heading back.

She watched Peter’s expression, there was nothing to see, he looked trance-like, almost as if he was sleep walking. He strolled past her, not once acknowledging her existence and walked on the same path he had come from. Andrea followed her brother home. She watched him climb up into his window.

The kitchen light came on just as Andrea made for the backdoor.

‘Who is out there?’ Andrea heard the fear in her mother’s voice. ‘My word, what happened to you? Where are you coming from?’ 

Trying to calm herself down, Andrea uttered the first expression in her mouth, ‘It’s Peter, I think he sleep walks every morning’.

 

 

Daily Prompt: Use it or lose it

The engine went dead, and so did my heart. The car rolled down the hill faster than I anticipated. I tried to restart the engine but it didn’t budge. I hit the break hoping for a miracle; the car slowed down only a little, but not for long, the hill was too steep.

My rear mirror showed more trouble; two cars were racing up the hill, oblivious of my situation. I horned repeatedly but they kept coming toward me.  I turned the steering wheel attempting to get the car to steer into the other lane; thankfully it worked. I tried to slow the car a little more, tapping on the breaks gently.

It was only a few seconds before traffic streamed into my lane; the motorists  horned furiously at me in unison. With every second I kept searching for a way to crash the car into a pavement, but it was moving too fast. I also thought of ditching the car and jumping out like James Bond would.

I had reached the bottom of the hill; People could finally see what was happening. I suddenly could hear screams as the car headed toward the busy intersection.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!”

“Lola. Lola. Wake up.”

I was sweating all over. My eyes were wet from tears. It was so hard to believe I imagined it all; as I trembled on my bed.

“You will be fine honey, these are the temporary side effects of…”

I couldn’t care less what the nurse was saying. All I really wanted  was to stop shaking. I knew it was only a dream, but I wasn’t certain it was. What if this was a memory?

I shivered some more finding it extra difficult to stay calm.

“Would you like some more pain killers for your arm?”

I looked down at my arm , then looked back at her trying to decide once again whether I had just imagined the car incident.

“What happened to my arm? Did I really do it?”

She held up some tablets and a glass of water, “oh, my dear I thought we’d never come back from that one.” She watched me carefully and continued, “Just drink up, you’ll feel better I promise.”

I did as she asked, without a protest.

“Don’t push yourself Lola, your memories would come back to you”

A Quest for freedom

He got his things and left. He left all the pain behind. His home which was nothing more than a house filled with memories of sadness and grief. Kona was convinced he had done the right thing. He raced down the street trying to remind himself repeatedly that he was the victim. Kona clutched his bag a little tighter than necessary trying to control the energy and adrenaline that forged through his body. He looked back one last time just in case he was being followed. Seeing the highway just ahead he relaxed a little. He remembered the night when his whole world came crashing down.

“Don’t worry Kona, everything will be just fine, things will be just the way they were.” Aunty Carol had whispered into his ears.

“Thank you Aunty.” said Kona, dismounting the dining stool where his feet had hung loosely while seated.

“Kona, I don’t want you to call me Aunty again, call me ‘Mum’ and call Uncle George ‘Dad’ instead, understand?”

He was overwhelmed by her words and searched her eyes to understand exactly what she meant.

“I-I am sorry, I can’t.” the eight year old said, as he ran upstairs, banging the door loudly behind him.

It was the first time he wept since their funeral. It was the first time it dawned on him that they were never coming back. That he was all alone.

Kona cried himself to sleep that night. It was just 2am but he found himself suddenly startled by the creak from his bedroom door. It was dark and the power was out. He searched frantically for his torch but he couldn’t find it.  He could see a silhouette at the door, but could not make out what it was.

 “Who is it?,” he called out.

The shadow advanced toward him, it was a man, a very well built man of average height. He knew who it was now, it was Uncle George.

“Uncle, is that you? What’s the matter?”

Before he could ask a third question, he felt a sharp pain forge through his shoulders as he fell on the floor.

“You are an ungrateful child, we took you in as ours. Is this how you repay us? You cursed child!”

“No, no, no Uncle George, please, please”, Kona wailed as he ran around the room to evade the determined strikes of Uncle George’s old belt. “Please Uncle, please, please”, Kona gasped as he passed out .

The boy lay unconscious, as the man walked out of the door.

“Get off the road you fool, if you don’t know how to cross ask for assistance.” An angry motorist yelled at the teenager who was lost in thoughts. Startled Kona jumped off the road. He had walked for five minutes already and had not realised he had arrived at the busy highway; a kilometre away from the house. Looking at his wristwatch, he knew he had to move faster. “Angela should be at the bus station by now,” he muttered to himself, scanning the traffic for a commercial motorbike.

The last eight years of his life had been nothing but misery and injustice after his parents had died in a fatal car accident. He watched his Uncle and Aunt live like kings and queens while he worked like a mere peasant. Dying intestate, his father had placed his brother as the next of kin. There was little the law could do about it; except for his uncle to take care of him.

As the okada moved faster perspiration that had stuck like glue to his shirt slowly dried off and he felt less tensed. His thoughts trailed off again as he recalled how he had gone to the police after a week of repeated beating from both Uncle George and his wife, Aunt Carol.

“Young man we understand, and we promise you they will not hurt you again. Right now you have to go home, you cannot stay here.” the policeman had said as he gently shoved Kona toward the door.

“You don’t understand, they beat me every night at 2am, I cannot sleep, I am afraid. Please help me Sir.” The little boy  pleaded with tears in his eyes.

“I know your Uncle very well. We will call him to order, just go home; we will go to the office to see him.”

It was a lie. Kona knew nothing would be done. The entire village was corrupt with Uncle George’s lies and political ambitions. Everyone cowered at his presence. His father’s death had made it all too easy for Uncle George to attain the fame he and his wife hungered for. The villagers all thought Kona was insane, they believed anything they were told. School was torture for Kona; his classmates despised him because their parents had fed them with the same lies. The only person who ever talked to him was Angela, a little girl about his age who used to come on holiday from the city twice every year. She was his next door neighbour, she heard him cry every night for help. Kona remembered vividly the first time they met. She was different. She was not anything like the other girls in the village. Her hair was braided differently in tiny spirals of corn rolls all meandering into eachother, her smile was so beautiful and welcoming.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He smiled sheepishly

“Do you need any help?”

“No I-I am fine” he said, trying to balance a crate of drinks on his head with one hand while struggling with a bag full of groceries in the other.

“I insist.” She seized the bag away from him.

“Thank you, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s really not such a big deal, I mean we are neighbours and we are heading in the same direction”

She was twelve like him but she was a shoulder taller than he was.

As they approached the house Kona got worried that he might get in more trouble, he wasn’t supposed to have any friends.

“Please don’t come in” he said, as he took the bag from her. “Thank you.”

“I know. If you ever want to talk you can come over.” She whispered.

That was the start of a friendship that manoeuvred Kona’s already disordered world.

The beatings continued as both his uncle and his wife, Carol took turns to whip him, in a quest to change the insane boy. But, he grew used to it. He feigned unconcious whenever he wanted them to stop, they didn’t know whether he was pretending or not. They never bothered to check, when they saw him motionless they knew he had been cured for the day. Meeting Angela gave Kona the strength he needed to live again. She was the only reason he kept fighting to live.

The okada man meandered his way through tiny streets escaping traffic that had began to take its form on the busy streets. Amidst the noisy sound from the okada, he felt a vibration in his pocket.

“Where are you?” Angela yelled in desperation

“I am almost at the station, sorry I am not there yet, I encountered some difficulties I will explain further when I get there.”

“Kona, this is not the plan, you were supposed to be here by 1.30pm, I have no idea why you had to go back into the house…” she trailed off.

He had forgotten how meticulously organised she was. She never understood that plans were always subject to change. As she continued speaking, Kona’s mind was once again lost in the events that had made him late.

It was 12noon, no one was at home, Aunt Carol had travelled, Uncle George was at work, Kona was supposed to be at school. He waited for his Uncle to drive out and then broke into the house. He had been planning this escape for years, thanks to Angela, the plan was flawless. He had his own key to the house unknown to them and he knew where his documents where. The birth certificate and the adoption papers were lying in Aunt Carol’s neatly arranged stack of books. He quickly grabbed his documents and stuffed a few clothes from his room into his bag and headed for the stairs. As he locked the front door, he heard the sound of a car engine revving in the compound. His uncle was back.

“What are you doing here young man? You ought to be in school?”  Uncle George looked at him in shock.

“I forgot something, I had to come back to get it.

“How did you get in?”

Closing the gap between them, the 220 pound man moved briskly toward Kona and noticed the bag in his hands, it wasn’t his school bag.

“Let’s go inside.” Uncle George said.

He pushed Kona through the door, sending the skinny teenager lying face down on the floor. The force was not anticipated. He got back on his feet and looked his Uncle in the eye. He could sense fear in the man’s eyes.

“Don’t you ever lay your hands on me again I am tired of this, it has to stop now Uncle.” He had not addressed him as ‘Uncle’ in eight years. His courage earned him three slaps and a dozen kicks.

“Get up! You want to be a man?” He said, talking between breaths. “You want to run away? Don’t you? You are ill Kona, you cannot survive out there without us you stupid boy…”

Kona looked around for an object big enough to knock down his Uncle. He noticed the glass vase twelve inches away. His body ached all over from the kicks. He struggled to get on his feet, then took few steps back feigning tears as he apologised for his actions.

“You should be sorry. I can’t wait to tell Carol, this is utterly preposterous.” He got out his phone to call his wife.

This was Kona’s cue. He lifted the glass vase with all the strength he had and threw it at his Uncle. The hefty man fell on the floor with a thunderous sound, as pieces from the broken glass dissipated all over the wooden floor. Kona looked at his Uncle in shock. He was not sure whether he was dead or not. He did not want to know. He pulled his Uncle into one of the rooms downstairs and swept the mess on the floor as quickly as he could, that was when he noticed his Uncle’s phone. He picked it up and discovered his Uncle had not successfully called his wife. He took the phone with him, picked his bag and left.

“Hello. Hello. Hello…” Angela yelled, then hung up. He forgot she was still on the phone.

He was already at the bus station now. It was packed with so many people; from travellers to traders. He began searching for Angela. She should have bought their tickets by now. “He was the only loose end of this plan.” He thought.

He called her, her phone was off. He dialled the phone number more carefully this time, and he received the same message. Beads of sweat lined Kona’s forehead as he struggled to remain calm. He broke into a half run, as he walked and ran at the same time, searching more frantically for Angela. She was not in the bus station. She had not come to the bus station.

He had no ticket. No money. He sat on the floor in frustration and cried. He cried because he had nothing to live for. He began to second guess himself and for the first time ever,  he believed what his Uncle had said. He couldn’t survive without them. He was ill.

 

 

THE END.

Taking what is ours!

This is my first attempt at a short story on this blog… hope you enjoy reading this. Please leave your comments

The waves poured in sea water in to the sandy shore in quick successions. The clouds were darkening as they moved across the sky. The wind raised sand, paper, and everything on the floor in to the air. I watched women struggle to get their children in to the house and fishermen retreat to the shore for safety- the whole village was in a frenzy. I looked at my fishing net and decided that today was another failed attempt to make some money and I grudgingly returned home.

Fishing has suddenly become a daunting experience in Ekpe, and it has nothing to do with the weather. It is difficult finding  fish in commercial quantity; the available fish are either polluted from oil spillage or dead. Many of the men in Ekpe who were fishermen have decided to leave Ekpe in search of another employment. My wife, Ufoma has pressured me to do the same but it is not that easy. I think the most pressure came when my best friend recently got a job which earns him a lot of money. I discovered yesterday that his wife now has her own shop and his children attend a private school in the city.

When the thunderstorm was over I went to Eduvie’s house. I have been deliberately avoiding my best friend for over a month. The truth is I was ashamed to admit that I needed a job. I really was prepared to settle for any job I was offered at this point.

“So you have finally decided to visit us.” Eduvie said leading me into his house. I noticed the freshly painted walls and the new furniture.

“It is not like that, I guess I have been busy…”

“If you say so. What can I offer you?”

“Eduvie listen. I am broke and Ufoma is going to kill me if I don’t get a job. You know we are expecting a baby. I am not here to beg you for money, I just want to work in your new place.”

“But, Philip I told you to come with me. The problem with you is that you are too stubborn.” He rubbed his tangled afro; a mannerism I observed he did when he was deep in thoughts. “Look, my new job is not so conventional. I am a dealer in oil exports. I-I think it will be a good idea to come and see for yourself.”

“Okay. Where is your office?”

“Philip, this new job is an all-night thing. We don’t have an office.”

At this point I got confused. What sort of job takes place at night? I could only count a few legitimate jobs that could. I had a funny feeling this was not part. I was just so desperate and eager to make money that I did not have the patience to wait.

“Okay then. I am in. Are you working today?

“Oh yes we are. Meet us tonight at Park Avenue by 12am. Don’t be late.”

What was I doing? I couldn’t believe I had just said yes to a job I knew nothing about. As I left home that night at about past 11pm, Ufoma was very upset that I was going out at the dead of night. I had to come up with some flimsy excuse about assisting a friend who was in trouble. Once I left the house all the thoughts imaginable, came to my mind. I became sure that I had made a bad decision and I started second guessing myself. When I was on the point of chickening out after walking about a kilometre by now, Eduvie appeared from the darkness.

‘’Why are you just coming? What took you so long?” Eduvie barked. I looked at my watch and discovered I was late.

“You know how Ufoma is, you have to explain everything to her…” my voice was suddenly lost in the sound of the truck that lightened the dark street.

“You are so fortunate you came in time, we would have left you. Come on hop on.” Eduvie motioned for me to climb on top of the pick up where three other men stood. As I climbed on board, I soon realised why they were standing. There were lots of buckets and huge containers littered on the back of the pickup. One would have thought we were going to fetch water for the village.

Eduvie chatted away with the others after he introduced me to Austin, OFegor and Kevbe. I had no idea what they were talking about, I just enjoyed the beautiful midnight breeze that cooled down my perspiration from the walk of a few minutes ago. The sky looked blank with just a few stars in sight, it was a new moon so it did not help that the sky was not starry today.

‘So Frank, is this your first time today’ Kevbe suddenly asked disrupting my thoughts.

“Yes, it is. I hope tonight will be great” I blurted out, trying to play along.

The drive was about an hour long, there were flash lights everywhere as if we were approaching some sort of night market. The driver suddenly stopped the engine and all five of us disembarked and took the implements from the back of the truck. Eduvie handed me a flash light and asked me to come with him. I held  two huge cans, he had a hose and a pale and another object.

‘Philip, do you know where we are?’ Eduvie suddenly broke the silence as we walked towards the swamp.

“I have no idea Bro, will you at least tell me where we are going?’

“I love seeing you confused, it just makes me laugh.” Eduvie chuckled uncontrollably

“We are going to take what is ours my Brother, something our fore fathers never did.”

“What exactly is all of this about” I cut in, trying to curtail my anger.

“You see, Philip there is a pipeline down the swamp we just excavated. Each of those cans you hold can fetch us N100,00!”

“Are you saying my friendd, that you engage in oil bunkering? You know very well that this is a crime. It is just too dangerous…”

“This is precisely why I refused to tell you earlier. I knew you will judge me! There is nothing wrong with what we are about to do. The oil is ours! It is for our people. We cannot let these foreigners extort our land and leave us with nothing. I am tired of waiting for royalties. Its either u bend down and fetch or you return back to the truck and wait for us.”

All through this discussion, I was so upset that I did not realise how far long we had come in to the swamp. I even failed to realise how large an oil pipeline was. It was huge, and it ran deep along the surface of the forest. It was when I stopped arguing I realised the pungent odour emanating from the oil. There were so many men and women there. It was like a market place. As some where leaving with huge barrels others were coming with larger barrels. There were some young men who we had to pay to obtain the oil. I found this pretty confusing because this was public property.

‘Are you in or out?’ Eduvie asked me, as he brought out some money from his pocket.

“I’m in; I just need to tell Ufoma where I really am”

“You cannot make phone calls here, you wan kill us!” Eduvie suddenly yelled.

Then one of the young men who was waiting for us to pay walked toward me ready to smash my phone as I brought it out of my pocket.

“Go back to the truck to wait for us, we no want any wahala” Austin retorted audibly as he walked closer to the pipeline.

“Ok then I will just wait in the truck guys, I am sorry for all of this” I said raising my hands as a sign of peace.

I could not believe Eduvie was getting his money from oil bunkering. It was totally unacceptable! What did he mean by taking what is ours! I have to be drunk to get myself in this trash. Ufoma will be so unhappy. It took me over an hour to get to the truck. I imagined I was walking too slowly.

I brought out my phone to call my wife. I felt so ashamed of myself. After several minutes I punched her numbers into my cell, a custom I was used to than just dialling her contact name.

After just one ring she picked, “Philip where are you? I can’t sleep”

Listening to the fear in her voice I could not speak, my throat grew dry and I suddenly lost my voice.

“Hello” she yelled through the receiver.

Just as I was about to answer I heard the first bang. I thought it was the local kids playing with fire crackers. Few seconds after I heard it again, this time it was much louder. I looked into the truck the driver was fast asleep. I suddenly saw people running from the direction of the bunker.

“Philip, what was that” Ufoma yelled more afraid now.

“I don’t know honey, I… I….” the ground shook uncontrollably as if a volcano was about to erupt. The driver suddenly woke up and came out of the truck and looked at me bewildered. “Run idiot, the pipeline has exploded”.

I just stared blankly at him, I felt my heart had stopped beating. He suddenly dragged me by the hand and we ran away from the scene to join a stampede of people who were now on the mainstream. I turned back and cried because I knew my friend had died taking what was not his.

 

 

Dedicated to all those who have lost their lives from oil bunkering. It is a punishable offense and the temporary profit is not just worth it. #thinksmart