Like Joshua Said

by AC Alegbo

  ‘You should not touch your mama’s money Ireneh. You see how she beat you that day.’

  ‘She is mad,’ he fumed menacingly. ‘They are all mad – she and my brothers. I will kill all of them,’ he swore again. By this time, I was used to his cursing and swearing, I did not take him seriously.

  ‘Come, let’s go and play ball…ow!’ I screamed stunned as from nowhere a shower of sand hit us. I managed to wipe the particles from my face in time to see three boys dash past, the one in the rear bearing a handful of sand to hit the others with.

  Then, I saw a fourth boy appear suddenly and knock one of the running boys from behind to the ground. Swiftly, he scooped up sand with his right hand and bathed the boy’s face with it. In the same instant, as the boy coughed and choked, his attacker punched him repeatedly in the face, splitting his lips and blackening his left eye as the victim writhed in pain and covered his face with his hands. I was more scared than surprised to recognise the assailant and to get a confirmation by finding that Ireneh’s place by me was empty.

  I rushed off to get Ireneh off the boy but two other lads beat me to him; they jumped on Ireneh and pulled him away from the boy underneath. He came away struggling and suddenly, jerked back elbowing one of the peacemakers in the face – who promptly retired from the fight holding his nose - and wrestling the other to the ground. I arrived in time, pounced on the two and placed an arm around Ireneh’s neck, pulling back so that he rolled away from his opponent and was on me.

  ‘Ireneh! What are you doing!?’ I screamed at him. ‘Have you forgotten what the headmaster told you?’

  But this was a mistake; for Ireneh, this was no time for anyone to be a peacemaker in his affair. Moving his head forward and back, he suddenly butted me in the face with the back of his head stunning me for two seconds, enough time to break free.

  ‘Bastard!’ I screamed again holding my slightly swollen lip. ‘Are you mad?’

  But Ireneh wasn’t listening; he was occupied. As he’d made to rise after dispensing with me, his most recent victim who had risen slammed into him and both came crashing to the ground beside me. Ireneh was in a dangerous mood and with a deft move, shoved his attacker off and dived on him.

  Incensed, I jumped on the pile and this time, I hooked Ireneh’s right hand in mine as I pushed him off the boy, throwing all my weight into the effort. Ordinarily, this would have been a fight to stand back and enjoy but I had been attacked and this was the perfect opportunity to exact revenge on the already occupied Ireneh. Indeed, I knew the dangers of my action but I also needed to show that I wasn’t scared of the boy so I went hard to work hoping the other boys in the fight would keep on for a while.

  We hit the ground and from the way he struggled violently to break my hold, I knew I was in line for another attack but I was ready. He broke free and I jumped up quickly expecting him to rush at me. He did and rammed into me, trying to place a strangle hold around my neck. He’d obviously taken me for an enemy. I countered by extending my arm around his neck too and leaning in with all my weight, hoping to push him back. He simply flipped me around, his strength scaring me frightfully. I staggered back trying desperately to stay on my feet and in that instant I could see him moving in for the kill, fists clenched. His eyes glittered evilly, blank and in a flash of recall, I was taken back to the scene in the shed with the aké. He lamped me one successfully on the lips sending me down onto the hot sand; I quickly made to rise and he closed in on me just as quickly. Just in time, a number of Primary 6 boys arrived on the scene and cut him down.

  VII

  ‘Blood And Tears’

  Mama didn’t know what to make of my swollen lips and badly stained uniform. I was as surprised to see her at home anyway; just my luck that she always seemed to be there when I’d been in trouble.

  ‘What happened Arinze?’ she asked. ‘Were you in a fight?’

  ‘No Mama,’ I lied. ‘We were playing football and one boy’s elbow hit my lips. It is not too bad.’

  ‘It is not too bad eh? See how dirty you are. Who is going to wash that uniform?’

  ‘I will wash the uniform myself.’

  ‘And who will buy the soap?’ she asked again. ‘If you think that you can just go and get your clothes that dirty, then, ask yourself where the soap will come from.’

  Obviously, that was something that was very easy to miss and that I hadn’t considered. As far as Mama was concerned, everything we did had monetary implications; everything had a cost, a financial value that must be weighed in any balance of options. Those were the things I was supposed to think about; there wasn’t as much room for irresponsibility as I thought. I may be a child but in the end someone had to pay.

  ‘Sorry Mama. I’ll be careful next time,’ I replied apologetic thinking about Ireneh’s mother and how wild she’d gone at the boy. Maybe, he hadn’t been as forthcoming with an apology as I was; maybe, the mother had been pushed to the limit. How embarrassing would it if my mother went crazy at me in public?

  ‘Well, you better go and wash the uniform now,’ she said as she left the room to go to the kitchen. ‘I don’t know how you can’t play football without spoiling your uniform.’

  That went well, I thought as I got out of my clothes. She’d have made an unnecessary fuss if she knew the truth, if she thought that the devilish Ireneh had attacked me. She’d have worried aloud, questioned me endlessly, spoken to all my siblings about her fears, feverishly prayed against the enemy that evening and finally, would have paid a visit to the telephone office. That I didn’t need – not Papa’s aggro.

 

  ****

  Mallam Ibrahim was furious. He’d sworn for about half an hour and had vowed to get at the criminals, we were told. Personally, I wondered how the hell he’d do that. The robbers would have mixed into the public and there wasn’t much to hope the police could do about apprehending them. I’d be happy for them to be caught though especially with Shari’ah in place. They’d get their bloody hands chopped off, the lot of them.

  The garage and workshop had been thrashed in the raid and the cars had been prime target, leaving so little to work with. On our first day back, we spent more time on our seeking out a promising venture than we did working on it and even at that, we reckoned it would take the best part of a month to get the junk to look something like a car.

  Work was painstakingly slow; as you must have gathered from a few lines before, Tolu and I had managed to find only one workable vehicle. The robbers had done a very good job of bashing screens and bodywork of the already wrecked cars in their attempt to intimidate us. Since, the engines, which went unscathed in the raid, were not the best functioning parts of the cars anyway, we had next to nothing. In this context more than most, ‘next to nothing’ was dire; I had been counting on one last run, one final sale that would hold me up through the months ahead – months I would be unemployed consequent upon quitting this business. I was tired of being on the wrong side of the law, a target for criminals and not happy with the dead end the job promised.

  We decided to take on the car together; working together would halve time spent we reckoned, collectively raise standard of input and bring about a better sale. We were not too keen though on having to split the rewards but as beggars were not choosers...

  Another letter had come the other day from Banjo. He was in Lagos now. His commitments meant that he shuttled between Lagos and Port Harcourt. He was doing very well, had secured the job he was after in the oil company, had a real office, desk, air-conditioning and even a cleaner thrown in. How was I doing in Kano?

  This time, I ignored the letter for a while longer. I was beginning to get restless and discontent with my job. The raid had been a warning; such work was treacherous and barely legal anyway. So, I went in to work soulless, snapped at the slightest provocation, dragged my feet and made mistakes.

  The weekend came and we lazed around. Much of Sunday, I spent then with Tolu discussing in essence, our strategy for selling the
car as quickly as possible and for the most we could get. We lounged in front of our room in the shade of a hanging wooden platform. I sat on a low stool while Tolu reclined on a bench topless as usual.

  ‘I hope we won’t have any problems with this sale Rez,’ he said as he slapped his shoulders to chase away some offending insect. ‘Next week is the main week and we both need to be there.’

  ‘Yeah, don’t you worry about that. I’m ready for action.’

  ‘We need to make this sale quick so we can get out of this biz. Once more, we need to go Baba Jide style.’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘We need Baba Jide style for this one,’ I merely repeated.

  ‘When anyone begins to bite, just leave the talking to me,’ Tolu added.

  ‘I can’t take that risk,’ I replied with a little sting. ‘You might fuck things up. I can’t just leave it all to you.’

  ‘When have I ever fucked things up? Who has handled most of our sales so far?’ he asked, a little defensive.

  ‘Yes but you have never done everything completely alone. I have always been there and you must admit that there are times when I have helped you out.’

  ‘Of course, I don’t mean you’d be out completely. I simply meant we should carry on as before.’ Tolu replied.

  ‘Oh yes, of course. That’s what you should have said.’

  ****

  School carried on as normal, well quieter than normal. Mrs Deji was now able to progress through whole lessons uninterrupted and although the class usually devolved into some chaos whenever she was absent leaving the monitor Kalu to do the usual, nothing was ever as dramatic as the events of a few weeks before.

  Eze made it into the band boys circle and was jubilant about it though no one else had been surprised. There had been a massive group of pupils from all arms of Primary 5 who went for the test and only six of them got in – all the people that were needed. That was how good they had to be and, perhaps, Eze hadn’t fully believed he was good enough to be within such a small number; he must not have recognised just how good he really was. Along with him, Oscar also made it into the band and they both received two rounds of applause in class requested by Mrs Deji. She made some attempt at a touching speech which simply made us cringe.

  ‘These are two hardworking boys. They have made all of us proud today so let them be an example to all of you. Okay?’

  ‘Yes ma,’ we chorused.

  ‘Clap for them again.’

  We thundered in applause as some of us laughed. With us we knew there was no hard work involved in getting into the band – you either had it or you didn’t. I never saw Eze stooped over a desk sweating over a beat. He never read up about beats and rhythms in any textbook and Oscar certainly didn’t stay up at night making sure he could beat in perfect time. It had just been fun the whole time – that was all it was and both boys had simply discovered that they had a natural talent to drum, full stop. And they didn’t make us proud, they made us envious but what did the teacher know?

  Eze still helped me to practise and I liked to think I was improving; Eze said so too. But I was doing it now simply for fun and for the satisfaction it gave having some skill under your belt. I also stuck with the debating society and as I waddled through different topics and took my stand before the group time and time again, I found the experience easier to handle, challenging but educational.

  So life passed without Ireneh whom I hadn’t seen since the incident on the playground about three weeks before and this time, I did not care. I was still mad that he’d turned on me - the idiot, and he was supposed to be a friend. Truth to tell, though, I’d needed our little fight to exorcise me of some of my fear of him. I’d been growing increasingly terrified of him since the year began and, though I’d been glad to have him for a friend, my fear annoyed me. I hated to think he scared me. I couldn’t have myself moulded into a followership for him or at the worst, have him become a new ‘Jegbe’ over me. And I had wanted that to end; our friendship wasn’t going to be a burden. Now that, with our fight, I felt I’d achieved that to a certain measure, I believed I could see him more as a friend when he came back to school, if he came back.

  The Primary 6 boys who had subdued Ireneh had dragged him, with the help of a few more boys, to the headmaster’s office. Theirs had been a tough task as Ireneh had been absolutely indomitable; he’d dished out two more swollen lips and a punch to the stomach before he was overcome. There’d been a few teachers around to sanction the action and who’d asked that the boy be taken to the headmaster’s. I’d watched as Mrs Ukpo who had been horrified at Ireneh’s display – so horrified that she’d stood rooted to her spot, lips quivering in a rapid monologue - went with the boys to explain to the head exactly why the case was coming to his doorstep.

  That was going to be the easy part. Ireneh’s fight had, apparently, stopped play on the playground. It had caused a slight panic among those who’d been around to witness it and since he’d actually bloodied a couple of the lads who had taken the worst of his punches, it had become a case for only the headmaster. I needn’t explain what happened next, well, I can’t because I don’t really know. Mr Salami had only seen the boy that morning; he must have been convinced that Ireneh was definitely bad news and whatever he did, it worked as Ireneh had disappeared again.

  ****

  The week didn’t go as we expected. If anything, the first day shocked us as, for the second time in the space of a month, we were raided and this time, it was by the police.

  We were not there though; we’d had a head start. The noise I heard had been a mix of revving cars and stampeding humans as the garage crew catapulted into action; even Mallam Ibrahim was as light on his feet as it would take to make him look lethal. Not surprisingly, he had had a virtual lane to himself in the rush.

  Two young boys looking like they were choking on flies inhaled by accident and by force had burst into the garage forty five seconds before we were run over by the police and raised the alarm briskly and loudly. Our evacuation upon hearing the alarm was very expertly executed because as our stampede crashed through the back gate and through the quite crowded streets of the area, it retained its purity – we remained the only ones in it. As I kept pace with the flying Tolu who broke off from the main group into a little side street and hurdled over a few low walls of several compounds to get us as lost in the area as it would take to lose the police, I kept thinking how unusual and rare it was to find a stampede in any part of the country that did not suck everyone who saw it happen into its path.

  ****

  The first day of the end of term examinations came and Ireneh came back to school. That was a healthy development, I thought. Just the day before, Eze had worried about him. Of course, he’d also heard about the fight incident but kids didn’t hold grudges. Even I, the offended, didn’t dwell on it.

  ‘Do you know what the headmaster did to Ireneh?’ Eze asked me as we walked home after school. On matters relating to Ireneh, he always began with a question. Somehow, I was expected to have all the answers; I couldn’t blame him. I expected the same of me, myself.

  ‘I know?’ I replied with a question as well. ‘He told me that the headmaster flogged him that morning when Mrs Deji sent him to his office. But I don’t know if headmaster flogged him again that afternoon.’

  ‘It looks like he is going to repeat Primary 5 or even leave our school,’ Eze said. ‘We are close to the exam period and Ireneh hasn’t learned anything.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Maybe, he’ll study at home. He’ll know that the exams are close,’ I said without believing it myself. Ireneh would never study on his own; he lacked the ability anyway.

  ‘What are we going to do? Should we visit him?’ Eze asked. By now, I was used to his very charitable but annoying side. He seemed to think we could just turn up and save the day. He had no idea the internal battle raging over Ireneh at my home or the lies I’d had to tell. I hadn’t even found any reason why I needed to be involved in Ireneh’s persona
l welfare; he had his own family to take care of that – Mama had said as much.

  ‘I am not sure,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to meet that his mama,’ I said as an excuse. ‘I am scared of the woman. Didn’t you see how rough she was? And I don’t even know where Ireneh would be now. We need to wait until he comes back to school.’

  When I saw him a couple of day later, however, I couldn’t bring myself to be pleased for him. Well, I was glad that he was back, only I wondered how he was going to cope with the exams since he must have had very little revision done. I even wondered how he got to know it was exam time. Somehow, he kept track with what went on at school even when he wasn’t there. He came in quietly on that first day oblivious to everything and everyone, his shorts displaying new patches from material of a different colour. It looked quite like a badly designed flag. He was quiet throughout the day’s exam as well which wasn’t a good sign because even though it was multi-choice in Social Studies, he did not, like some of the others, request of the invigilator that any question be read out to him.

  This was a right during examinations – not tests; the school was quite gentle with us. Exams were important and if there was to be any chance of more than a couple of pupils making it through, the school had to help a little.

  That was the task of the invigilator as they pranced around the room making sure everyone behaved appropriately.

  ‘Excuse me sir,’ a pupil would go.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Number 3.’

  The invigilator would read out the question finishing with, ‘do you understand?’