Justice, Law and The City

PROLOGUE

That day it rained. The downpour felt like an apology trying desperately to wash away the earlier events of the day and woefully, it failed. Weeks and months later, there was still proof of that one day. Hands raised to the heads as guns pointed and poked at passer-by's, a lifeless body acting as the icing on the cake. One would think that things were beginning to fall into place as clubs began to open and the streets held a crowd late into the night. One would think so until another story would violently hit the headlines.

Cyclists ran the busy street, breaking road rules by driving one lane at top speed without fear of collision. The atmosphere pumped with noise pollution as the sun baked everything underneath its power and rule.

He stood in front of the Paramount filling station at the main gate of the University of Harcourt Brace. His head rotating left and right and then as if he was manipulated, he ran crossing to the other side of the road. The ladies who stood close by missed the golden opportunity to cross the busy road and pouted like they expected him to act as a crossing guard. Immediately, a black van swooped in front of him like a hawk and men bundled him into the back of the van speeding off. Everything happening so fast. Silence threatened to break the noise, some feeling lucky for not crossing with him and others wishing they had. It wouldn't be after many days would his parents come to find out what had happened to their son.

His mother worked as a lecturer in the University. She stood in front of the class; hands crossed at the back trying to paint the picture of a strict lecturer feeling like that was the only way to be taken seriously as a female. Her phone rang and the screen lighted up revealing a strange number. She swiped on the red button declining the call and continued teaching, repeating the same action the second time her phone rang.

Once she stepped into her office, she returned the phone call making sure to sound diplomatic on the phone until the stranger introduced himself before spewing that her son was a suspected criminal. Her palms turned sweaty and she struggled to breathe in the well-ventilated room. The moment the call ended she punched the number of her husband breaking the news to him.

They claimed the story would have been different. "It wouldn't have been like one of those sad stories,'' "The lawyer wasn't smart. He shouldn't have brought law and right into the matter,'' "Payment should've been made,'' they said. And for the rest of her life, his mother would think the same thing.

They were arranged in rows and columns hands tied to their back, proof of torture evident in the bruised lips and blood stains. Some cried saying they were poor; others happily gave away numbers of well-to-do acquaintances for hopes of quick release. Ikenna rocked himself comfortingly despite the bile that rose up to his throat. He swallowed for fear of going through another round of horrible beating. His body ached and his stomach rumbled. They smelled of waste.

The stout man approached him and without speaking handed to him a phone. Carefully, he took it and without being told what to do punched in the digits of his mother and handed it back to them. He felt obliged to tell them that she would decline since she was working but he wised up at the thought of a generous beating.

When the call was declined the man stared at him with bloodshot eyes. They held three terrible words. "You dey craze?" he swallowed the bottles jabbing at his throat, eyes finally getting teary in expectant of the slap which his face received. For every time his mother declined the time, he hated her.

"If they no pick we go carry you go." One spat.

"Leave am them think sey we dey play." The stout man finally speaks. "We go just kill you throw away your body talk sey you be criminal. Una dey play with us?"

"She will call back, she's busy." Ikenna dares.

The men give him a terrible pounding. "Who tell you to talk? Dem ask you to talk."

The phone finally rings. The men speak and after some seconds they introduce themselves and introduce Ikenna­ – to his horror – as a criminal to his mother. They talk some more over his head as though he were invisible, bargaining like he was a product on sale. He wants to stand and shout that it was a lie and that his only crime was to cross the busy road of Harcourt Brace. But wisdom was profitable to direct. The bargain finally comes to an end and he is instructed to stand and change location to those who they had made bargain of payment. "Almost free," he heaved jolting at every turn and twist for pain. He would soon leave back to his home. Would he ever be the same?

The day dragged on forever and he watched as his new companions left with gratitude on their face or so it seemed. Ikenna counted his teeth with his tongue watching as the number reduced to six by the next day with himself inclusive. The door flung open as two men walked in, the look on their face did not show that they came in peace and everyone scooted away. Ikenna knew, deep inside he knew that he was the one even before they marched over to him as the rest watched with mixed emotions, something between relief and horror.

"Find my mum and tell her all I did was cross the road. Please." He begged the captives amidst tears as they dragged him away.

It was like they dipped the room in cold water, everyone quiet, wondering in fear what had gone wrong. His pleas and scream still echoing outside before they heard the gunshot. It took two shots to do what they intended. Two shot to end a life. Two shot to kill someone the same age as their kids.

The captives would be released, more killed that same day before Ikenna mother would call again to pay the money after realizing the family lawyer had phoned arguing that they were violating Ikenna's right.

"I'm sorry madam, we no arrest any person like that."

"Wrong number."

The blood would drain from her face in realization that she would never see her baby boy. She would only hear that all he did was cross the road but the news would say that he was gunned down in a stake out.