Justice, Law and The City

5

Father had called to inform the faculty to excuse her from sitting her exams. He said she wasn't feeling fine. Couldn't he have told them that she was dead? Could he have done her that favour if she had asked nicely?

It was a Wednesday when she was discharged. On Thursday mom gave testimony in the church. Friday, they received a call that Junior had been released. Sunday morning, they were dressing up for Church. The house held a strange quiet that had never visited them, maybe once, but it was more than 5 years ago. It was filled with unspoken words and fear. A certain kind of gloom. Or was it doom?

A knock rattled on the gate. On cue, Hope marched for it and looked through the peep hole. Her heart bust in joy and her blood pumped with excitement as she opened the gate feeling warm all over and dashed into the arms of Junior.

He held her close as if he was afraid letting go may wake him up to a crueller reality. She suddenly felt pity but she knew that that was the last emotion he needed from anyone.

"You reek." She said trying to act normal as it had always been.

He chuckled.

Hope raised her head to look at him in the face. His eyes were red with traces of blood in his eyes, probably from being slapped so hard. He looked like a drug addict having withdrawal symptoms. She could see how hard he tried to stop shivering and jittering.

"stop." He interrupted her when he saw her mouth open.

She closed it and swallowed words too bitter. As he brushed past her and breezed into the house, she knew that he had caught a glimpse of pity in her eyes.

It was later she found out that Junior had died and that whoever came home was his Ghost.

**********

On Monday she was on her way back to school to write her papers. She glanced at her watch realizing that she would be late but what did she care.

The okada man dropped her at the Pepsi bust stop. A bus drove and stopped in front of bus stop. Immediately, the conductor rushed at her.

"Aunty, aunty, you dey go?"

She nods her head in the positive and pays the cyclist before she follows the conductor like a sheep to the slaughter. He grabs her bag as if she would run away before pointing to the last sit at the back of the washed-up rickety Mitsubishi. The young boy no less 14 years that was acting as the Conductor rushed at other passengers repeating the same ritual until the bus becomes full. She studied his face tracing his features along the hard-sketched contour of on setting manliness. He was well mannered even though he looked tough and dogged. Her flow of thought and fixed scrutiny was cut when the last two passengers came and soon the bus started for the journey. She felt utterly spent and drained from the previous night.

She thought trying to act like Junior had not been taken or that she felt no pity for the only sibling she has that was born on the same day with her just few minutes away from her birth would make him feel better but she was wrong.

Around 1am he was throwing up in the toilet. By 2am he was having a nightmare. She could hear him talk. "I'm innocent." He repeated like a mantra. 3am he produced deep gut-wrenching sobs. Her heart broke and she cuddled herself trying desperately to comfort herself and failing miserably. 4am she thought he stayed in the shower too long. When it became a big torment, she stood up from where she rocked herself and went to the kitchen to start her chores. It was then she stumbled upon Father in the sitting room, mother in his arms as he spoke empty words to the woman who sobbed silently at the thought of her kids who had become victims of the occupation her husband appeared to promote.

The bus slowed down when they got to Petrochemicals. A checkpoint laid ahead where overzealous law enforcement officers bobbed their head as they decided amongst themselves which car to stop and which to let through. They took 20 naira from the drivers, some 50 others 100.

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. The bus felt small and her lungs felt tight. They were headed for the checkpoint and she suddenly wished that she had accepted a ride from Father. Breathe Hope. The man was directing the bus to a corner out of the lane. O God, please help me.

The lanky officer crossed over to the driver.

Pant.... pant... gasp... gasp.

The guy beside her gave her a concerned look before turning his attention away from her. "Abeg make una come down." He asked the other passengers who were blocking the entrance. When the path was clear he took her hand and brought her out of the car.

"Try to breathe." He told her.

She inhaled.

"Exhale."

She had forgotten how.

"Relax and let go of your breath."

She tensed.

He smiled and touched her hands. She thought he felt hot. He placed his hands against her chest. "Breathe, you're having a panic attack." He was telling her and she was wondering how he knew all that. He smiled at her probably noticing the quizzical look she was giving him. "I'm a medical student."

It was only when the officer surface did, she remember how to breathe. She stood up fast not wanting any attention. She shoved her phone into her bag before placing a hand over her drumming chest. The office could ask her how she bought such big phone? Or what she did for a living? Even where the receipt was?

"Is everything okay?"

She found out that the medical student was looking at her expecting her to give a reply. "I'm fine." Her voice is hoarse.

The police officer walked away from her heading for a bus filled with people and goods to be sold at a market.

The gentleman searched her face as if trying to find a clue that would solve his theory, whatever was going on in his head. He gestured back into the bus and from the look of things all eyes were fixed on her. She dabbled with the thought of running away.

"madam abeg do fast enter abeg make we dey go." The driver cussed out.

"Let's go." the medical student speaks. "You'll sit at the front."

She dragged her legs to do the right thing for now. She didn't want people looking at her like she had three heads. No one did. The next bus stop was about 15 minutes away. She could walk but walking could prove hard with the little bag she was carrying.

She went with him. He climbed in first and another person followed. She threw him a small thank you that held deep meanings and only heartfelt appreciation. As the car moved gently, she could feel eyes on the back of her head, people goring stares at her. Did no one know that it was rude to stare. Turning back, she caught the gentleman staring at her. He smiled and she forced another smile at him. She silently hoped that he would not ask for her digits. How was she supposed to say no to a guy who helped save you?

She didn't give him a chance. She stopped at the next bus stop even though she had a long way to go. She stretched out 200 naira note to the conductor.

"Aunty no worry, oga for back don pay."

She winced feeling like a complete charity. She smiled at him. "Thank you so much."

The car zoomed off once those who had reached their destination alighted. She motioned to a yellow keke (tricycle) and relaxed. Paying for all the seats.