Running Away Solves Everything

Tomilola

Not a glimmer of hope was revealed to me these two days and I deserved it, so I don’t have the right to be disappointed. I just pray today’s court would be better, or at least they’d change the judge. For a start, that could be good news.

Unfortunately, it’s me that changes. I am not allowed to sit by Kamal or wear the kind of clothes I wore the day before. I just look like a prisoner, and I feel like one. Now, there’s a bad news and a good news. The good news is that Rotimi was discharged from the hospital yesterday with just a P.O.P. cast on his left arm to ease the joining of his bones, correcting the fracture. The bad news is that Màámi is the one that delivered this news to me in person. So, she saw all of me. The bruises on my cheeks, the scratches from the walls, the insect bites and my unkempt hair. And I saw the hurt in her eyes. The hurt I, not Rotimi, caused her.

I wouldn’t be seeing them at court today though. I made sure Mummy got so angry it would be unwell for her to show up.

No miracles are expected by me, but every wrong move was a great detriment, and for all I understand from Law drama, Kamal started so wrongly. “Court, when you look at this lady’s face, what do you see?” I am the lady, and I see a prisoner; one who wielded a gun? “Do you see a killer?” What else were they supposed to see apart from what I already saw in myself?

The court is silent, pin-drop silent, and that does more than frighten me.

“Miss. Olarenwaju Tomilola, tell us what really happened on the night of Friday, 1st of June, 2018.” He says “What really happened” like everything that may have been heard before now was false.

I wet my lips just before I speak, and that’s when Nneka struts in. At the time when I’m gathering my words, so she could mess me all up. Innocence, Harmlessness. I would rather die than let her wreck me more. “On Friday, 1st of June, I followed my…” what do I call Nneka? “…roommate and her boyfriend to this party they invited me to.” Is there a way to shift an atom of guilt to her? I think. “That is where I met… Nathan. He flirted with me as I was at the bar just sitting, and I didn’t quite… I didn’t concur to that.”

I am so glad Kamal speaks up because I don’t know where I was headed to. “So, you told him no. And did he come back again?”

“Yes. And that’s…”

“You see my, Lord. That was nothing but…”

Then, the judge cuts Kamal short. “Let her speak. When he came back, that is when…” He says 'is' like he instructs me to relive the day.

I know I shouldn’t have. I knew I shouldn’t have when I said it, and now, I know I’m going to pay gravely for not simply saying ‘yes’. I know I don’t have time to conjure some reasonable words, but I want to. As a matter of fact, I needed to. And that’s just when the two fleshy protrusions around the opening of my mouth start thriving… “That’s when I agreed to follow him to a room. Only to prove that he was a guy who only knew how to harass girls. And nothing more.” …with suicidal confidence.

Captivated, the judge becomes my interrogator. “And how were you going to prove that?”

Kamsi would be angry. She was not ready and she made that clear. “I…I … don’t know.” I didn’t say the only thing that could save me at that moment and I didn’t regret it.

“So, Miss.” This judge takes me in from head to toe and the look would be too shameless if it wasn’t for the slight puzzlement in his face, like he’s seeing something he doesn’t quite understand. His eyes are a dark secret, polish or soot black––I can’t tell. It feels as if they can see right through me to my weak, cowardly soul. I don’t look away, despite of how embarrassed I am of my tattered shift, of the dirts, the scratches, the bruises, the sweat. All these things I know that are way too visible to him. I am frightened. I know I am, but I try not to show it. “You followed this young man… to his hotel room… with an intention to expose him… for harassing women. With no plan. And without thinking that he would harass you too.” He states my foolishness in bits to sink in, as he looks to his court at every pause. “What are we looking at here?”

This was the perfect time for me to run deaf, blind and dumb. Or better yet, drop dead. But He wouldn’t give this to me. Everything becomes so much worse when I sight Nneka at one corner of the court.

“My Lord,” Kamal finally finds his tongue. “This doesn’t overlook the fact that she was harassed.”

“Boy,” he calls my lawyer. “Your client was alone in a room with the deceased. Around when he died. So, Miss… In fact, tell us about that gun.”

I was brave to dip myself in acid when I didn’t just say ‘Yes’. I would be brave enough to reside there till I vanquish. “I used it to defend…”

“Herself,” Kamal steps up. “For her protection. And it was Master. Domshak's gun.”

“Objection my Lord,” flies from across the room.

“Objection overruled.” The judge doesn’t even look in the other lawyer’s direction. “Now, what evidence do you have?”

Once again, it’s all silent.

Everything irritates me as soon as Kamal says, “We have none.” Nneka’s grin, that lawyer’s overpriced jacket and smirk; things that remind me of Nathan. Nathan’s Dad's proud stature rested on that seat. Certain that he’s gotten exactly what he wants. It’s harder than it looks to bottle all this irritation, mostly generated from the look of the first governor I’ve been in the presence of, and even more difficult to transform it to something else. But that all changes when a sapient stands in the midst of the brown inert benches.

“She has evidence.”

Kamsi slowly walks to the front. I’m surprised. I’m excited. I’m as happy as a pig in shit. And I don’t give a damn about any facial expressions hanging over anyone’s face. Till my angel walks to the front with her phone in her hand. The judge takes the phone and plugs Kamsi's earbuds in, then removes it. He hadn’t obviously listened to anything yet, so I’m scared that he’s not going to take it as an evidence of self-defense. Just until he waves his right hand, and some lanky man shows up from the west door with a speaker. Now, the Court’s more than attentive as the audio commences.

The door slams shut.

“Shut up. I’ve heard about you. Harassing every girl on the campus?”

I wail. Just before he asks, “What did you just say?”

“You heard me right. Kamsi. You don’t even know her name, do you?”

“Bitch.” My choking isn’t heard. “But… You’re still gonna get it.” But I hear the thud my body makes when it was flung on the floor.

I yelp, “What’s wrong with you?!” It still doesn’t sound like me and I’m so sure now.

“Just you. You come in here asking stupid questions? You are what’s wrong with me!”

“I don’t know what that means. Just admit you did it and let me go.”

“Why would I let you go when I already have you?” All this audio does is resuscitate this dreadful day.

I cry.

“Big mistake.”

“Ah!” Though the speaker makes a shrill sound, everyone remains captivated and quiet.

“Say it. Say you harassed Kamsi!”

“Don’t you… dare! You’ll be worst than the other nonsense girls.” My eyes race to see if his mum is stung by this, and she is. “Wait! I bet you can’t even hold that shit!”

“Oh, pretty girl. You know you can’t.”

The gunshot! And everyone squeals.

The door slams shut again.

If this doesn’t ease my punishment by quadruple, I don’t know what will.