The Chase

No one has ever been able to stop a mob action...

“O julor eh, julor eh, mor l3”, “Ewi, Ewi”, “shoot am”, “Barawo, Barawo”, “mun kyinu”, “Fiafitor” were some of the words, the agitated and overactive mob springing from all the crannies were chanting, as they gave the tall burly man a hot chase of his life --- A chase he would live to regret if he literally survived this ill-luck situation.

The soared dust that had been dug up by the heels of the incensed mob and all the noise they made, as they outrun each other in pursuit of the fugitive was enough to red-wash any building. It was just a matter of time when the alleged thief with no exhibit was caught. He flipped over walls and inter-weaved between speeding vehicles as he maintained his pace. It was all he could do for now because his energy was sapping and his limbs were getting weaker, especially his wobbly long legs. 

“Why did I not calculate the situation well, oh God, you have to help me” he murmured to himself. He was now tired and has to stop somewhere to meet his timed death. Yes, at least, he knew he was going to die within minutes, looking at his looming assailants. They carried all kinds of unimaginable weapons – like, clubs, metals, stones, machetes, not to talk about the number of them that wielded these weapons. 

Hitherto, his pre-occupation was exactly, where and when to die, but the area and the cause of his imminent death were now known, and he had just spotted a Church building in the distance and knew exactly where he was going to die too. He has to die in the house of God and as to which barbaric people would kill in the Lord’s presence; he chose to leave it to posterity.

The lacerations and bruises he received from his earlier wrestling when he was first apprehended has started burning deep, cutting through his marrow and was eating into the very fibre of his being. He has to give up, but he knew what awaits him. 

It has been a very hot and a scorchy day since morning, due to a heavy downpour of rain the previous night, and many people who worked along the streets, and those who could readily be spotted even from afar had taken shelter in any visible shadow and could barely be seen by just any onlooker, unless you actually were looking for shop owners and keepers alike, thus making the whole area deserted, which gave the alleged thief the impetus to pull a fast one on this elderly woman whose five Grandsons was visiting from all walks of life.

One of them had just arrived from his ten year sojourn in the States, which had attracted the rest of them to the house to catch up on all the years their cousin had been absent and stayed incommunicado. They teased each other, talked about everything until it was time to debate who amongst them was the eldest – and it was when they all barged into the store from the rear door that connected the store from the house, only to meet the ugly scene going on. 

The suspect had cello taped the mouth of the old woman which was an extreme thing to do anyway, considering what had ensued between them and if not for anything, respect for old age. The old woman who could barely walk and had being furnished with a store to keep her stationery and busy had apparently commissioned the young man to work for him, but when it was time to pay, the situation degenerated into an altercation, resulting in the old woman yelling “Thief, thief” on top her tired voice. All efforts to stop the woman from causing a scene and probably landing him into a big trouble fell on deaf ears, which forced the man to take such an awful action.

The first Grandson to enter the store couldn’t help what he saw and without hesitation or any prompting, jumped onto the insensitive guy, but could hardly hold on to him. The latter was punched in the face, which made him black out and has since become a casualty, giving the seeming encroacher a leeway to flee from the scene. He had to abort the ‘operation-shut-up’, due to miscalculation and take to his heels. 

He did not run past 100 meters before he was apprehended, which resulted in a hot battle; a battle for the very miserable life he lived. The remaining four Grandsons, coupled with concerned onlookers closed up and started lynching the outlaw, but he somehow managed to ward off some of the blows by using his hand as a shield and stamping others with his foot which gave him another chance to finish his last lap towards the Church building.

From time immemorial, the Church has been, and seen as a sacred place by many, regardless of where your faith and allegiance laid, so he thought running in, to seek asylum would be the best and wisest move in his situation, but his energy would not take him that far – another case of the soul willing but the flesh being weak.

Say No, to mob action

He was not a thief and should not die as one, but he knew that, no amount of reasoning or pleading will assuage a group-think action. He wished he was rather arrested and interrogated but it looks like caution has already been thrown to the wind and he was home bound to meet his ancestors. For the first time in his life, he lauded the proponents of those who wanted the act of instant justice, scrapped from the system because it was barbaric. He thought about the many innocent people who have died this way and his countenance fell once more. Life is unfair.

No one has been able to control a mob yet; a mob without a leader to calm his people down, one that has prejudiced minds all gravitating to one centre and with a desire to see justice done, because the wheel of justice grinds very, very slowly and in some instances, doesn’t grind at all. The justice system has failed them once too many times and now, they have resorted to seeing to it themselves.

The ugly scene that was chanced upon by the Grandsons still required that this young man was punished, but dying this way was another way to poke the system in the eye and maybe which behooves that, we have a lot of work to do on our justice system. 

His already lamenting and weak soul was giving up on itself at an accelerating rate. After all, no one will allow him to explain himself, but he was still hopeful of covering the small distance between himself and the Church, because at this juncture, it was all he had on his mind. Before he could be halfway through his resolve, he stumbled and fell flat on the face and the spectacular speed with which the towering man came face-down was enough to defy Sir Newton’s gravitational force of 9.8m/s². The chase has come to a grinding halt. It was finished.