As I was saying last week, I saw my staff Bello, walking towards the policeman to try and stop him from peeing in the parking lot. Instinctively, I began to come down the hill, and as I did, I was screaming, trying to get Bello’s attention to stop him, but he could not hear me. Outside in the parking lot, we had over 45 tenants selling all kinds of things that travelers would typically want. We also had a record shop owner playing his music in eardrums-shattering decibels. The atmosphere was always carnival-like. We are a noisy people. You are reminded of Nigeria anytime one goes to a Mexican Mall anywhere in America. They are very much like us—noisy.
There were at least 50 buses in our premises about this time which meant we had at least 750 passengers in that moment of time engaged in different activities. Watching them from my hilltop spot under a mighty tree that provided great shade was always a source of gratitude for me that I had built something that people actually enjoyed.
“Beware the Ides of March!” the Soothsayer screamed at Julius Caesar. This was Caesar’s day of victory over Pompey. It was a day of great pride, and conquest. He was of course dismissive of the warning. On the fateful day, the 15th of March, Caesar’s wife, Calpurnia, warns him not to go to the Senate. She had had a bad dream. Again, the Emperor was dismissive.
Brutus, and Cassius had been plotting the assassination of Julius Caesar.
As men, regardless of what we hear or who we hear it from, we feel a sacred sense of duty to rise every morning, and go to work. Did I hear a voice tell me not to go to work that day? I do not recall. We do what we do everyday out of routine. If I had sat at home, would the life-changing event of that day have happened the way it happened, or would it have had a different outcome? We could never tell, but rise, we must, and work we must do.
And then, I wonder: is there such a concept as the inevitability of fate?
As I approached the middle of the hill in my descent, Bello was already eyeball to eyeball with the policeman. The next thing I saw was the policeman slapping Bello across his face, and dragging him by his shirt. Bello untangled himself from his grip and unleashed a combination of blows on the policeman like a man possessed. The policeman’s gun fell to the ground, and began to rotate on the ground in rapid fire. It was an AK 47. Bello wrestled him to the ground as the officer reached for his gun to disengage it. In that split second, Bello started to run towards me for protection as the policeman recovered his rifle and engaged in pursuit, commanding Bello to stop.
I froze in the middle of the hill in one moment as I heard rapid fire—-ratatatatatatatata!!!!! A bullet wheezed past my ears, and in dark fear, my feet became as heavy as lead. The environment froze in my mind. For a nanosecond, I thought I had changed planets and that I was watching earth from another world.
Bello ran toward me, and stopped. The policeman caught up with him, and I began to babble, trying to plead with the policeman as he swore, and continued to strike Bello. His gun went off again. At this point, Bello disengaged from his grip, and took off like a rocket in a race for his life. Customers began to stream out of the restaurant. Everyone was confused, not knowing what to do. In my folly, I went after the policeman as he went after my boy who by this time had disappeared. Some drivers who had rushed out of the restaurant by now, surrounded the policeman to plead with him. He was shaking with fury. In a flash, his gun went off again, and a bullet ricocheted, and hit a young man in his right knee. I was standing right there. The young man fell backwards as in a thud. Blood was gushing from his knee cap. He had the presence of mind to pull his phone out of his pocket to make a call before he stopped moving. At this point, one of the drivers lunged at the policeman, and disarmed him, removing the magazine casing immediately. Now helpless, the policeman began to beg for his life.
Talk about the perfect storm. Talk about a crossroads. Talk about a visit from the devil. Talk about a real life dilemma. I had a boy on the floor, lifeless. A crowd had descended upon the errant policeman ready to lynch him.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I was the boss. Everything about this chaos and how it would resolve rested squarely on my shoulders. Firstly, I needed to stop the young man from bleeding to death. Secondly, I must stop the angry crowd from killing the policeman on my property. Thirdly, I needed to restore law, and order on my property. I promptly sent one of my staff to take a bike to the nearest police station to get help to calm down the angry crowd.
A group of my staff rescued the policeman from the angry mob, and locked him up in my office for his own safety. He was crying for his gun. That was all that concerned him in that moment even as he was moments away from being lynched to death.
I had a black F-150 Ford truck that I brought from the US. My manager had driven it to town to get some goods.
“Somebody help me!” I screamed for help for someone to help me take the lifeless body to the hospital. All 50 vehicles in the premises emptied out. The two gentlemen who came in the black SUV got in their car, and sped away, tyres screeching, abandoning their police escort who was now my prisoner.
There is a God in heaven, and one thing is sure:
His eye is on the sparrow.
Stay safe until we meet again next week for Part 3 of this True real-life drama.
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Michael O. Ovienmhada.
Publisher, Editor-in-Chief.
