My name is Kunle Omope...let me tell you a story.
It had been three years since Pelewura cheated death.
It had been three years since the 15yr old daughter of the
cobbler jumped through the window, while clenching a broken piece of bottle as
the only weapon to aid her escape from a man that murdered her whole family. It
was a large family of 11 children.
In her head she could still count the gunshots that snuffed
out the lives of every member of her family. 12 shots in all. One bullet per
life.
Pelewura was thrown into a life of running...of trekking
many miles... Of picking up very odd jobs to survive...of becoming hardened by
the sweaty labour in the market sun and the mercilessly cold nights on dewy and
ant infested fields. Sometimes she slept in goat stalls and was thankful for
the incessant bleating that punctuated her recurring nightmares.
Tonight she crept into the town of her birth. It was
Christmas day.
As she trudged along familiar paths, the tears in her eyes
distorted the faces of the happy passers by, so that she couldn't recognise any
face. And someone should have identified her, but her face was hidden by a
hoodie from the friends and neighbours she once knew.
Then, she heard it go off, "pheeeeee....kpoah!" A
firecracker exploded, but she heard a gunshot from her past.
Quickly, Pelewura fled, she felt the need to escape again.
Then the second banger went off, and she saw her mum slump dead beside her
bleeding dad. Two bangers, two gunshots, her parents. She ran so fast, her
strong legs leaping over gutters and puddles. Then she tripped and went
crashing to the ground, but before gravity could fold her in a crumple, the
third banger went off.
Like a cat, she was up in a split second, running again to
escape the sounds of the nightmare that ruined her life 3years ago.
By the time the tenth banger was going off, Pelewura had
scaled over a tall fence, rolling on the ground to cushion her descent from such
a height, she absentmindedly picked up a bottle of lager leaning by an electric
pole, while its owner was staggering over his pool of urine.
Eyes bloodshot, teeth gritting noisily as she sped
aimlessly, Pelewura had become a tortured monster of a wicked past.
Somewhere within the town, Chief Ebudola was entertaining a
bunch of kids as he shook a long, and colourful cylindrical firework. The kids
chanted in unison as a a small fireball shot out from the toy in his hand with
a phew sound and a "kpoa" explosion.
The kids excitedly screamed "eleven!", as the
fireball exploded.
Pelewura drew close...
As they chanted " twelve!", Pelewura was before
Chief Ebudola. His mustache was unmistakable... He was the one that broke into
her home on Christmas day 3years ago. He was the one who took her family from
her. He was the one whom she escaped from with a broken piece of bottle. Now
she was before him, holding a broken piece of bottle in her hand again...and he
was shirtless with a potbelly and an overlapping neck.
It's been 12years now, and Pelewura has not stopped
running...from the law.
The end.
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