Mr Kordiabɛ’s House (cont.)

Kordiabɛ took pride in managing his new home. He cleaned the gutters, cleared the weeds and swept everyday. Sometimes he sat under the ‘aluguntugun‘ tree wondering what will compel a man to abandon such a magnificent structure. But just for a minute or two. It is not his place to wonder at another man’s fooli – erm – sorry – decisons. It wasnt his place to wonder at another’s decisions.

He’d visited the welder a few days ago to get the estimate for a nice gate for the house. It’s not like he wants to lock someone’s house and keep oo. Like that hustler ‘borga‘ thought, the cheap bastard. Just that he’d planted foods that need protection from the wayward goats. He looked up at the electricity cables going into the next house and thought for a few seconds. He needs to find a way to illuminate his house. Darkness can be very deceptive. That is how that rat of a man sneaked into the bedroom downstairs one night. It took ‘sheer takashi‘ to get rid of him.

Right so cables it is. Nobody encroaches on a house with electricity supply. A few metres long and it will get him at least two lines out of his neighbour’s three. It’s not that he’s a power thief or anything o. But the hassle he will go through to get power directly from ECG is just too much. Afterall he’s a temporary occupant. No need amassing electricity bills for his ‘borga’ to come pay. They won’t even notice the tap. He will only use it for lights to fend off the rats in human form and maybe a radio. That’s all.

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Mr Kordiabɛ’s House

He lived in a ‘shwɛ su mame’ partially completed house at Kasoa, Akweley junction. He was lucky this time. The ‘borga’ whose building he lived in this time had roofed the 5 bedroom house and even added sliding windows. Unlike his previous ‘borga’ who was quite the ungrateful bastard when he found him in his unroofed house.

All he’d done was save up some money for aluminum sheets and roofed a third of the building. That’s to the paranoid man’s benefit! And yet, he bamboozled his way into his own home with 3 macho men. All for frail Kordiabɛ; accusing him of encroachment, intent to confiscate, all sorts of hurtful words.

That hustler ‘borga’ should have been grateful he’d saved him cost of roofing a part of his unplastered house. But this new house is fine! See it’s not everyone who is a proper ‘borga’. There are ‘borgas’ and then there are ‘borgas’.

He walked around the house with his arms firmly clasped behind his back, chest out, inspecting everything. He’d planted some pepper, okra, tomato, yam, watermelon and a few other foods on the one plot left around the house. He nodded his head as he inspected the rest of the compound. Indeed there are ‘borgas’ and there are ‘borgas’.

Mend

He rolled his torso backward and curled his feet under his ass, watching the terrified look on her face as she quivered a tear out of her left eye. He sighed heavily and got up with the needle still in his hands. He’s been doing this for a while and it’s becoming tedious and boring. All he wants to do is teach others what he already knows, self control and stamina. The world will be such a better place if everyone was just so. Just poised and controlled and right. He shuffled his feet to the rickety dusty table and propped one hip at a termite eaten corner. He stared at her still, hands bound in front, legs spreadeagled and bound against each wooden beam supporting the fragile roof. His gaze traveled up the wooden beams to the partially covered roof. A sparrow landed and peered into the room; it flew away quickly, sensing the foreboding aura. He turned his attention back to her, she squirmed and tried to plead with her big brown eyes. Beautiful girl, young and healthy. He likes them young; you teach them control at this age and they don’t grow into greedy adults running the world into a disarray. He straightened with a stump of his boot and she jumped. He didn’t like that, his face contorted into a grimace at her sudden show of fright and watched fright change to terror as he picked up the serum. It wasn’t a really complicated drug, and he gave them just enough. He made sure it was just enough, else it defeats his purpose.

Murmuring his reasons to her in a soothing voice, he explained why he needed her to stay alive during the ordeal he’s about to put her through. He explained how useful self control will be to them. He cited attacks in various countries and scandals by various world leaders. He made her understand that, he’s one of the chosen sent to redeem but he needs disciples. He needed her to stay alive. His voice had such soothing quality, she breathed easy just for a second then felt the brutal chill of his finger tips as he pressed down her jugular and inserted the needle at the base of her jaw, right under the skin. The serum will still her facial muscles and make her expressionless, while he carried on with the rest of the procedure.

She couldn’t feel her face. For a moment she thought the serum will spread to her entire body, she prayed it will. Her eyes rolled towards the rusted saws, knives and drills on the rickety table. Cold sweat broke on her brow, she counted her days. Her mind went to what she did that morning before leaving home. She remembered the unwashed pan from yesterday’s cooking and the fight with her neighbor about the littered compound. She had planned on apologizing after calling the man a slob, even though she was right and he is an insufferable slob. She cant quite remember what she wore and tried to force the image out of the deep recesses of her mind; then the blind white light came and she jolted in pain. He’d started with her pinky toe and was moving onto the other toes, using a pair of handy garden shears to pull out her nails, one by one. At the jerk of his muscular arm, he looked up and watched her reaction. She shook violently, he feared she’d break free so he stopped, picked up a warm towelette and sat by her side. He wiped the sweat gathering on his brow and explained to her again. Why it is important that she forgets the pain. That her eyes show no feeling. He promised she’ll feel absolutely nothing if she willed herself and asked her if she didn’t want that. Her eyes, they said yes, her face was still and calm; expressionless  just the way he wanted it. He finished off her second foot and went on to wrap the toes in cloth. He didn’t want her to die. It pained him when they died, it aggravated him, such weakness.

She felt his voice more than heard it. She was trying to remember the dress still, she couldn’t stop fixating on it. As the blind white light of pain flashed in front of her again, she wondered if it will actually damage her pupils and make her go blind. Then she wondered if any such cause of blindness existed. She tried again to remember, nothing came and then something. The pain continued, he was using the drill on her thighs now. He just made the sixth hole on her left thigh. Her legs were shaking from the trauma, she wanted to look at it. Look at what he was doing, she asked herself if it will work. He seemed so sure of himself, it must work all the time. She was floating, her legs were still shaking, she felt light and then she sensed freshly cut grass. She inhaled the freshness in, she was floating. He’d reached the crucial point and couldn’t stop, sweat poured down his back, the towelette had long disappeared. Right after his last drill, he felt a pool of wetness on his jeans. He started quickly, rushed to the table, came back to her in a scurry knocking down the rest of his kit in the process. He started suturing the wounds, applying pressure and willing the blood to stay in. He looked over at her left leg, tied to the beam a feet away, blood slowly gathering around it. He cussed loudly! Too much, too much bleeding, she was the one. She was taking it so well. Rushing to the leg, he blotted out the blood and applied more pressure on the opened wounds. Tears rolled down his face, he’s so tired. This would have been the last and the first. The success. The first disciple to make his dream come true. She felt cool to touch, he curled himself on her stomach and cried some more. Yet another failure and he is so tired.

CRACKED SHELLS

Mr. T looked on wide eyed as the battalion floated and soared and finally disappeared through a

thicket of clouds. He paced up and down in deep thought. Stopping once to stare
back up at the skies; then resuming his pacing again. His knees started
complaining so he had no choice but to sit. Pulling a chair from the front
porch, he propped the chair by the baobab tree and sat down. All this while, his
eyes were on the sky.
Swoosh! Woosh! He started from his chair in a fright. He must have dozed off for a couple of
minutes. The battalion settled down once more, they huddled in groups of four
and five, clucking at each other and clicking at their wings. Oh, how he
admired them, beautiful creatures with such amazing capabilities. They were
oblivious to his presence, all they knew and talked about was their beautiful
feathers and colourful beaks.
Magpie quirked his head at the loner, sitting and watching his colleagues in obvious awe. He
walked slowly towards him, noticing the look of envy plainly showing on his face. ‘Er herm!’
Mr. T turned and saw the smartest looking fellow, standing with his hands behind his back. He tipped
his spectacles with the edge of his wing and popped up his heels.
‘Greetings to you sir! I can’t help but notice your admiration for our small group. Mr. T smiled
sheepishly, he mumbled something and took a step back.

‘That’s ok. I am not complaining. By the way, my name is Magpie and you are?’
‘Mr. T’ He said with a smile, he was a bit stunned that one of the creatures he admired so much had
actually taken interest in him. ‘Are you busy tonight? I have a mean bottle of Don Perignon.’

Magpie said with an encouraging smile. He couldn’t find a single reason for his interest in this poor fellow but something just intrigued him.
He watched the play of emotions across Mr. T’s face with hidden amusement.
‘It’s ok if you can’t make it. I suppose I can drink it all alone.’ He said with resignation. Magpie
didn’t really intend to drink alone, matter of fact he could barely keep a shot
of wine down but he couldn’t think of any other reason to get to know this
creature. His fascination with him kept growing by the minute.
‘No no, you don’t have to. But ..’ Mr. T barely finished when Magpie quickly interjected.
‘Good. Thank you so much then. I truly have to go but I will be along later in the evening to pick
you up. A pleasure to meet you once again.’ He said while walking towards his
group. His last comments drew a couple of curious stares from the group but
they were too involved in comparing levels of flamboyancy to pay attention to
him. They left in the same huddles they had stood in a few minutes later after
Magpie gathered them and muttered a few words Mr. T couldn’t hear.
He stood at the base of the tree, still contemplating the exchange that took place between himself
and Magpie. It was all he dreamt about anytime they rendezvoused at his
compound. And now, he is too stunned to celebrate. He walked quietly to the
settee he was dozing on about half an hour ago with a pleased smile on his face
and sat down gingerly as if expecting pinpricks to attack his butt with the
vengeance of the porcupine. He sat, elbows on knees head bowed toward his
crotch still smiling. Then after a while he relaxed further. He knew exactly
what he intended to gain from this unplanned and unsolicited establishment of
friendship. He closed his eyes and continued with what was interrupted, his
sleep.
Magpie stood with his arms at his back, he rocked from his toes to his heels once more, adjusted
his spectacles and smiled as if he was pleased at Mr. T’s outfit. ‘We are going
to my favourite French restaurant. I hope you enjoy oysters and spinach. Perfect
combination in these times when we have to watch everything we eat.’
‘Yes, of course. We can never be too careful.’
They had a good meal and returned to Magpie’s house for a few more drinks. Somewhere between the Don
Perignon that went with the meal and the Scotch they took at home, Mr. T had
turned into a massive talkative. He couldn’t stop going on about his fascination
with the Magpie and his group.
‘Creatures of flight always fascinate me, I keep wondering how you do it.’ Mr. T said.
Magpie had gotten quiet in the midst of the conversation and was watching Mr. T carefully. He had
a strong feeling that T’s interest in his group’s ability goes a little beyond
awe. He squinted his eyes as if in serious thought then blurted out, cutting T
in mid sentence.
‘Are you interested in giving it a try?’
Mr. T choked on his last swallow of scotch, spat it out in a painful hiss and jerked forward,
making his shell smack the back of his in a loud ‘cluck!’ noise. Magpie winced
in pain at the sound.
‘Okay, be careful there.’
‘Yes, of course. What did you say? No don’t repeat it. Damn! Yes, but how…’
‘Let me worry about that. Within our group, we have another sub group of elite gentlebirds. We
specialize in making the impossible real and I think you are right in our alley of interest.’
‘But how will you do it?’
‘You let me worry about that Mr. T. I will keep in touch and let you know about further
developments. Let me get the chauffeur to drop you off.’
Weeks passed and Mr. T didn’t hear a word from Magpie. He watched the sky for a sign, he checked his
mailbox for any message, he sent Magpie email reminders but still no response.
He finally gave up, assuming Magpie’s partners refused and he was finding it
difficult to break the news. Sometimes he would sit under his tree and wonder
if it was something he had done wrong. Maybe he seemed too excited about the
idea. He couldn’t help but go back to their conversation, now he can remember
the squinting of Magpie’s eyes when he almost jumped out of his shell in
pleased surprise.
Maybe he should have acted nonchalant about the idea; a bit hesitant and lack of interest. He passed
out with a bottle of Herbadingo by his side. Suddenly he was jolted from his
sleep. He flopped of out his shell and landed in his bare minimums, he turned around
in fright, pushing back on his ass with his hands and feet. Then he saw Magpie,
standing next to his settee and empty shell, looking at him with an equally
startled and embarrassed look on his face. He averted his eyes and fixed his
gaze at a distance 90 degrees away from Mr. T.
Mr. T. self consciously pulled his knees up to chest and sat there on the floor to gather
his wits about amidst the awkward silence that ensued. He got up quietly and
half crawled, half walked to his shell, picked it up and put it on. Magpie
coughed loudly and uncomfortably.
‘Greetings Mr. T. sorry if I startled you. My apologies.’ He turned on that and smiled widely at
Mr. T who was still trying very hard not to coil into his shell and stay there forever.
‘That’s alright. I must have dozed off a bit. Must be one of those days …’
‘Sorry Mr. T but we do not much time to waste. We must get inside right now before the others get
here.’
‘What is going on?’
‘It’s that time of the month again Mr. T. we are to take off. I thought you kept track of us.’
Magpie watched T with a quizzical look.
‘Yes, of course. You are right. Erm, what do you want me to do?’
‘To do? Come on now. I thought you expressed interest in going with us this time.’ Mr. T nodded in
shocked affirmation.
‘Yes so let’s go. Quickly, my legion will be here anytime from now and we can prepare you.’
Mr. T followed Magpie into his house and not long after, the legion arrived. They were ten of
the most colourful flight creatures T had ever seen and he couldn’t stop himself
from staring. They brought along two large wings made from a variety of bird
feathers and they fixed them on T’s back. They initially tried it with his
shell on but realized it made him too heavy. Mr. T therefore had to strip down
to his boxers. The legion taught him how to fly and covered him with more
feathers to enable him blend in with the others. Then they went out on the
patio and watched the others trickle in one at a time for the take off.
Mr. T had never felt this alive in his entire life, he watched the huge trees he was never able to
climb and never taught of going close to thin out into tiny drops of shrub
under him. He swooped through the clouds and closed his eyes in ecstasy.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever felt this good all his life. Magpie and
the others noted Mr. T’s quickened confidence warily; he seems to be forgetting
that he is still a ground creature. They watched him do back flips and nose
dives. He went so high at a point, they got slightly worried.
‘Maybe you should go check on your guinea pig Magpie.’ Chickadee said. Chickadee was part of the
legion but she was not convinced that Magpie could pull off such a feat as
getting a ground creature to fly. She had her inhibitions but the demands of
the many outweigh that of the few. She snickered at Magpie when he ignored her
suggestions but then kept her thoughts to herself.
Magpie was a bit worried about Mr. T, he has noticed over excitement and prayed it wears off
soon. Whoosh! Mr. T swooped past them in a nose dive, shouting all the way down.
‘Woohoo! Woohoo! I will never feel this elsewhere. Woohoo!’
The others looked on uncomfortably, they made a few more turns and it was ready to return back to
the ground and disperse. The flight creatures had established this occasional group
flights as a form of keeping in touch and maintaining connections. They travel
from far and wide to fly together and when it is over, they disperse to their
respective homes.
‘Mr. T! Time to go now.’ Magpie yelled.
‘Why, it is not yet dark. Let us run another round again, please.’
The other birds started giving them stares, they were wondering why a full grown flight
creature was acting like he’s never flown before.
‘What kind of name is Mr. T? Is it an alias?’ Flycatcher asked.
‘Oh no. that’s my name.’
‘Mr. T!’ Magpie yelled but he had disappeared behind a cloud with Flycatcher.
‘Your name is T? I assume that’s a short form. What’s the full name?’
‘It’s Tortiose.’ And then Mr. T realized his mistake by Flycatcher’s reaction. He let out a loud shriek
and flew away from him. There was visible fear in his eyes.
‘Tortoises don’t fly. Tortoises don’t fly. No no no no no.’
‘Wait, I meant to say..’ Before Mr. T could finish his sentence, Flycatcher had already flown
towards the head of the flock. Suddenly, the flock changed directions. They
headed back to the take-off sight in a frightful speed. The moment directions
changed abruptly, Magpie knew there was trouble. He started searching for Tortoise.
‘Mr. T! Mr. T!’

‘Yes, I am here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Flycatcher … ‘
‘Oh no. he’s told the lead. You have to hide.’
No sooner had he said that, they saw Eagle baring down from the horizon.
‘A flying tortoise eh? I must say Magpie that you have outdone yourself.’
‘Quick Mr. T, run, go, fly away!’
Mr. T swirled around 360 degrees in confusion and instantly went into what looks like a suicidal
nose dive. He headed straight for his cottage. He could hear the angry birds
right on his tail. As he flew to safety, all he could think was ‘So this is
what a near death experience feels like’. He looked back one more time at the
flock of creatures soaring at his heels with Eagle in the lead and he missed
his way. He run smack into a large Boabab branch and lost one of his wings. He
slid down the tree, landed on an extended branch ass first, twirled into a
somersault and felt face first into his sleeping settee. He got up, run quickly
into the house, disregarding his bruises and cuts, pulling all the feathers
attached to him. He locked himself in his room and waited.
‘You can’t be here.’ Magpie’s voice came from the darkness of his room and he almost jumped out of
his skin.
‘They will hurt you. Quickly, put on your shell and other belongings. You have to move out.’
Chickadee said. Magpie turned to her in surprise.
‘What are you staring at me for? I wasn’t happy about your idea but I won’t let the poor creature
come to harm.’
They helped tortoise to quickly pack his furniture and other personal effects into his small Volkswagen
beetle. They said hurried goodbyes with promises of protection and sincere
apologies for his trouble. Then they heard Eagle let out an angry shriek.
‘Quickly, get in and go.’
As Mr. T sat in the driver seat, he couldn’t fit in it. Magpie and Chickadee pushed him but to no
avail and there wasn’t enough space in the car to place his shell even if he takes it off.
‘Unless.’ Magpie said
‘Unless what?’
‘Take off your shell.’
Mr. T obeyed without compliance. What choice did he have with Eagle’s bellows getting closer? Magpie
picked up a rock from nearby and started smashing the shell.
‘What are you doing?!’
This is the only way, we will give you something to put it together when you find a safe place.’
Magpie cracked Mr. T’s shell and placed the pieces on his dashboard. He then added a bottle of the
adhesive used in attaching the feathers to Magpie with an additional transparent liquid.
‘Mix these two and use it to bind them. It will last forever. I’m sorry my dear friend. You must
go now.’
‘It’s ok, thank you for the experience. Bless you with many more wits and intellect. Goodbye
friend.’

Magic on X’mas eve

She walked into the room full of people. Lights everywhere, Christmas is such a festive moment. No matter where you are and where you from, it’s always special. She continued her walk into the room, smiling at known and unknown faces. Basking in the admiration she saw in everybody’s eyes when they look at her. Her dress, a soft turquoise strapless gown, carelessly brushing her bosom and accentuating her voluptuousness. She turned around on her heels, throwing her head back to admire the chandeliers and there he was. First thought that crossed her mind, he’s not handsome. She didn’t like the fact that he was staring and gave him a straight disapproving stare. He smiled and started looking elsewhere. She walked to the serving table for some hors d’oeuvres.

She hummed to the music as she popped some mini pizzas into her mouth. She couldn’t help but think, ‘Hmm, this is an amazing party. Gotta get me a good looking man to dance with, maybe leave a lasting impression on him.’ So she downed her glass of champagne and took another twirl on her heels and that was when her night overturned. For some reason, she lost her balance, twisted a heel and landed on her knee. Wait, she didn’t really land on her knee, because she felt a strong arm on her shoulder, her knee barely brushing the floor. She looks up to thank her savior and it was him again ‘Mr. Not Handsome’.

He still had the same smile on his face, this time staring at her cleavage. And of course since she was on one knee, wearing a strapless dress without a bra, he was having a field day. She managed a somewhat graceful movement that brought her to his eye level and mumbled a thank you. His reply, ‘Don’t you just love Christmas parties?’ She looked into his face and the smile was still there, she thought again ‘This guy is not very handsome.’ He still had that smirk on his face and she was beginning to think that he’s making fun of her. She run her hands down her dress to study her nerves and managed an answer to his question. ‘Well, Christmas is a festive moment.’ She said with a stiff smile.

He was watching every move with intense interest, like he’d never seen a woman run her hands down her dress. She found it interesting that she couldn’t read any sexual innuendo in his eyes. Just intense interest.

‘Thank you once again,’ she said. ‘For what?’ He asked. ‘For breaking my fall, you know.’ ‘You welcome, you wanna dance?’

The alarms went off in her head and she thought to herself ‘Okay, take a break; I mean literarily, put your feet on the break paddle. Is this guy actually asking me to dance? Ok he’s smooth, very smooth. I’ll dance with him, just once; take that confident smirk off his face if nothing else.’

She smiled back at him and moved to the dance floor. But he stood there his right hand in his pocket, watching her. She stopped moving and raised her eye brow in question. He took two long steps and he was front of her, Her breath caught in her throat. At that moment, she knew she always had a bit of a weakness for a man in a suit with his hand in his pocket. He was still staring at her cleavage when he talked. ‘I asked you to dance, you didn’t say anything.’ He said softly, looking at her when he said the last words. Her smile weakened, this is guy is suave.  She put up a confident look and said ‘Sure. Why not?’

And they dancedJ. This was such an unexpected twist. She never would have seen herself enjoying his company considering the fact that she didn’t find his looks appealing enough. They danced till she couldn’t move on her stilettos anymore. ‘I’m having a good time with you.’ He leaned close to her face and whispered. Guess what she did, she leaned closer to him and parted her lips just a little bit. He looked down at her soft inviting lips, and she could swear she heard a growl come from deep within his throat, and then he leaned closerJ.

Let’s back track a bit. Do you know what she went through to get tickets to this party for herself and her best friend? Apologies to my readers if it wasn’t mentioned it in the earlier paragraphs. The writer was a bit distracted, by the story. What with the lights, food, drink and all those other interesting elements of the story, it’s a wonder that has come up now. Ok, she hustled an ex boyfriend who’s still smitten for the tickets. She certainly couldn’t bring herself to go alone but she desperately didn’t want to be caught sitting at home alone on Christmas. So she went shopping, bought the perfect dress, perfect shoes, painted her nails and got ready for the night. Party was supposed to start at 8pm, she was ready at 6pm.

She couldn’t wait. She knew she looked amazing, totally irresistible. She couldn’t wait for all the anticipated attention she’s gonna be getting at this party. And what excited her more, just ignoring all of those admiring eyes and having a good old fashioned time.  She called in a taxi and they left home for the party at about 7:30am. Wait, but she didn’t head straight to the party. It will not be a good look to arrive at a party way earlier than even scheduled.

So they went over for an early night Chinese food. Don’t assume she loves food, which will not be a crime by the way. The party was a cocktail soiree; the last thing she wanted to happen was to be swayed by her first glass of wine due to an empty stomach. So they had some hot Chinese food, got some wine to go with the meal. She was flushed and ready to party. They got to the party at 10.00pm and it was in full bloom. They rushed out of the taxi and were quickly ushered into the lights. They were so excited.

The moment they stepped foot at the party, they part ways. Promising to meet later during the night, they left plans on how to go home open. It was Christmas, a special moment that happens once a year and they were both having their own special moment. It was about 3am in the morning and they were driving on the quiet streets on her neighbourhood. She still didn’t know where her best friend was.

He stopped the car in the middle of the street, turned around and asked in the softest voice ever. ‘Could you step out of the car?’ She gave him a puzzled look. He said, ‘Trust me.’ They got down from his car, he took those knee weakening strong strides to her side of the car and said. ‘I apologize; I can’t wait till you get home’. He touched her stomach, moved his hands to the small of her back and pulled her towards him. She couldn’t take her eyes off him and couldn’t breathe. She felt him take in a deep breath and hold it, he clenched his jaw as if in control and then that throaty sound again. She felt his face touch hers, sensed his perfume or aftershave and then felt his lips on hers. And then there was magic.

Little musings

He walked the busy accra street, pulling his ‘trok’. Today has been a good day and his tray was filled with scrap metals ranging from parts of car engines and batteries to broken refrigerators. 

The sun was at full blaze and he was stripped to his tattered chemise that had seen better days. There were so much holes in their chemise with torn parts hanging loose from under his armpits. 

His entire body looked like he had taken a 3 hour bath in a pit of soot. The hawkers and pedestrians by the street felt compelled to move away as he trod along. He couldn’t be bothered, today was a good day. 

Then suddenly, he found himself in the middle of the street. He couldn’t really remember exactly how that came about, he got up and saw the same people who were avoiding him minutes ago wailing and running helter skelter.

Some of the female hawkers had both hands on their heads and all of them had one thing in common. Their faces were stricken horrid and a few shed tears. He couldn’t understand why these people were looking towards his direction with such bizarre expressions. 

He turned around to get his trok and go his merry way. That was when he saw it, lying in a puddle of blood and bones. A young man covered in soot, painfully gasping for air and stretching his hands to him for dire help. 

And then, the pain started, from the deepest part of his chest and it descended sturdily. Then another, searing almost like torture shot through his head and he screamed.

Aargh! He woke up drenched in sweat, yet another nightmare. He sat and stirred at his surroundings, heaved a big sigh of relief and got up. “Beeeeeeeep”…He almost walked straight into a trotro vehicle.

He turned around in confusion, the driver and his passengers’ insults sounding like a swam of angry killer bees. Aargh!….He run back unto the pavement, looked down at his torn shorts and spaghetti string shirt. He sighed once more.