A Stranger I Met

My eyes widened as the cold metal came in contact with my wrist. It took a minute before I could decipher what was happening. I stared in horror at the handcuff on my wrist and gasped when I was shoved a bit by the policeman beside me as he urged me to walk faster. Everything was happening rapidly and it felt like my brain was giving way; I could barely think and I felt my entire body go numb.

"I'm. . .I'm innocent," I managed to say but it seemed there was no rationale in this case and from the looks on the officers' faces, I knew I was pouring water into a basket; they didn't believe me and It didn't even help that the woman who had reported this case was fidgeting like she had seen a ghost; like I was a dreadful thing to behold.

"You have the right to remain silent otherwise, whatever you say will be used against you in the court of law." The officer beside me spoke as he ordered that my son be taken away from me. The little child had held unto my leg, crying at the top of his voice and when I tried to hold him, I was shoved once again as they led me down the stairs. I tried to speak but all I could do was whimper as thoughts of all that had happened some minutes ago filled my memory. I was yet to get over the event yet I was being driven into another trouble - bigger trouble. I still couldn't believe it had happened. I would have dismissed this as a nightmare but the blood on my hands was enough proof that it was reality. I was being arrested.

"You can't do this. Let me at least speak to my father," I tried to win them over but all I said fell on deaf ears as they pushed me into the van and drove off.

My eyes welled up as I shut my eyes. God knew I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was only trying to save my son. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

★ ★ ★

The creaking of the iron bars irritated me as I laid on the cold prison floor - the nauseating smell of the watery beans the officer had dropped for me not helping issues.

I still wondered who it was that prepared the meals at the prison yard. Perhaps, he or she didn't taste the meal before dishing it out for people to eat.

I sighed as I kicked the stainless steel that had been used to serve me, away from me.

I was alone yet again. Veronica had left me after wailing her eyes out. It didn't even help that I couldn't say a word to comfort her or even make some gestures at least. I had sat aloof like a rock instead and had watched her cry.

Though the locking fetters used to handcuff me when I was with Veronica had been taken off, I still felt the tingling sensation around my wrist; the marks they had left ever clear on my skin.

I peered at my skin through the dark but saw nothing. The small window by the side of the wall did little to brighten up the room.

Being in prison had made me appreciate little things like sunlight and fresh air which I had always taken for granted before.

There was nothing like freedom and no one should be confined to a tiny space like this. I wondered how I would have coped had my dad not been one of the prominent figures in town.

I had once walked past other cells and had seen how countless prisoners were locked up in a stuffy place with no air. At least, I had a room to myself unlike what I had seen back then.

A deep sigh escaped my lips when I heard some noise coming from another cell. It was a cry of agony and shivers went down my spine as I shut my eyes, listening to the cries go and on. I needed no one to explain to me what had happened.

It had always been that way and of recent, prisoners had been dying like fleas. I had only been in prison for two days and within that short duration, six men had collapsed and been buried.

One had happened while we were out for our periodic promenade the previous day. According to what I was told, the commandant had organised a periodic promenade for the prisoners.

Though the prisoners seemed to dread this - I now understood why - it was a moment to enjoy the fresh air and beautiful sunlight - rare gems I had come to appreciate.

While we were lined up before the commandant the previous day - a fierce-looking middle-aged man with an old fashioned helmet covering his bald head - one of the prisoners: a skinny looking old man who stammered a lot, was caught whispering words to his partner while the commandant was speaking.

According to how everyone had reacted, I knew it was a grave sin to speak when the commandant was. I was new here and so was taking note of everything.

I didn't want to get into trouble even when some of the officers that stood watch by my cell were unusually nice to me. One of the guards had promised I would be out soon and I did believe him - the son of a rich man wouldn't rot in jail, would he?

The two offenders that were caught talking were brought before the commandant and were asked to lie flat on the ground. A whip was passed to the grimacing commandant who raised the whip in the air with so much force and began lashing out painful strokes on the skin of the feeble old man who looked like he would pass out by mere shove of hands.

I had shut my eyes while the lashing went on; I couldn't bear to watch - not when the old man was wailing at the top of his voice.

What I didn't expect to see, however, was the lifeless body of the man lying on the ground after some lashes - the loud cry I heard around me had forced my eyelids open.

One would think the commandant would feel sorry and would at least pardon the other guy but the reverse was the case. The commandant had commanded that the filthy thing be removed instantly from his sight while he lashed out more painful strokes on the next man.

I had wondered then what joy seeing people die brought to the officers. They had looked unaffected when this happened and only then did it dawn on me it was a usual occurrence.

Even some prisoners beside me acted like nothing grievous had happened unlike me that had not been able to sleep well after the occurrence - his last cry kept resounding in my ear. I just couldn't get the sickening image of the lifeless body out of my mind: his bloodshot eyes bulging out and his tongue rolling out.

I had even caught one other prisoner stifling a laugh while angry strokes fell on the bare back of the next offender.

The evening of the day this occurred, I had heard from the conversations of the officers keeping watch by my cell, that another death: suicide, had occurred so I knew instantly that someone had died when I heard the deafening noise from the next cell this day. There was always a cry to announce new death.

I slammed my palms to my mouth as I fought the urge to throw up. I wasn't in the comfort of my house to throw up whenever I liked. Though some of the officers were friendly towards me, one had looked me funny when I had asked for a bowl to throw up the previous day. He had looked me in the eyes and had asked that I threw up right in the cell room.

I rested my back to the cold wall and brought my knees to my chest. How did I fall so low? How did it come to this? Who would have ever thought the perfect Daniel whose life was the envy of others would reduce to this?

A tear slipped from my tightly shut eyes and landed on my dry cracked lips. Another slithered down my cheek and I made no effort to wipe it away. Though I tried to shut it all out, Veronica's cries filled my ears.

I wished I could take her pains away but as it was, I couldn't even help myself. I was stuck in a darkened room with limited food and water. My movement was restricted and guards watched me day and night.

My heart began to thud loudly in my chest when I heard some movement around me. From the squeaking and hissing, I knew what it was. I turned my head to the direction of the noise, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rodent but all I was greeted with was darkness.

It was moments like this I needed light badly; the thought of a rodent climbing my body brought shivers down my spine. I had realised right from my very first stay that I wasn't the only occupant of the room. Other creatures such as this one lived with me - I had heard a croak the previous day while I was asleep.

Thoughts of these creatures coming close to me made me freeze. Just how much more could I take?

I began to regret instantly my behaviour earlier. I had forgotten ill-smelling watery beans did nothing but attract creatures of all sorts.

Trying to detect the direction the rodent was moving to, I sat still - not wanting to make my presence known - but when I felt a hairy feel on my foot, I lost it, jumping and screaming at the top of my voice.

The shuffling of footsteps approaching my cell and the loud bang of the door told me I had raised an alarm for nothing. The sudden flash of torchlight into the room hurt my eyes so much, I covered my face.

"What is it?" It was the fierce officer I had asked for a bowl the previous day.

I looked at my hands, thinking of what to say. I knew it would infuriate him further if I told him I made that noise because of a rat in my room.

"Can't you talk?" He spat and I shivered.

"I had a bad dream." I stammered and he looked at me like I had said the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

He shook his head and glared at me. "What do I do with these rich kids? First, they get a whole room to themselves and then, they ask for a baby sitter?"

It was a rhetorical question but I answered anyway.

"I never asked for a baby sitter." I didn't like the way he was talking to me.

A look of surprise crossed his face and he advanced to me, caressing the pistol by the side of his belt. I knew he couldn't shoot me but seeing him caress the steel made my heart thud.

Though this was my first time in prison, I had heard so much about the brutality of the policemen around here. They could do so many things and get away with them.

Trying not to look intimidated by the huge man, I maintained my stance but when he got so close to me, I involuntarily took a step back and my back came in contact with the wall.

My stomach did a flip-up when I caught the smug smile forming by the side of his lips. He leaned forward and stared right into my eyes. His breath reeked of all things awful: ranging from alcohol to cigarette, I almost choked.

"You better watch your mouth when you speak to me, young man! Your father might be wealthy but in here, I'm the boss. Understood?"

I tried to look away from him but what I didn't expect was to be hit on the jaw with the edge of the gun. I yelped.

"Understood?" He repeated and I nodded this time.

"Good!" A sardonic grin spread across his face and as he walked away, I had to restrain myself from rushing towards him and biting off his ear.

I fell to the ground after he had left, my face buried in my palm. I would never have had any cause to be here had I not come across the path of a devil. My perfect life was crumbling in front of me because of a stranger I met.

I could still remember the events that led to this; they were ever new in my mind. They featured in my dream and haunted me. Why did I ever meet Tony?

I let my tears flow as the events that led to this came crawling back into my memory once again.

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What do you guys think?

The tantalising aroma of my mum's cooking filled my nostril as I sat on my bed, rubbing my eyes wearily. My mum's cooking had a way of waking me up from my sleep and as I sat, I tried to tell what she was preparing from the aroma.

It was hightime I believed the saying: good food is the way to a man's heart. My mother's cooking made my heart flutter every time.

With water dripping from my hair, I walked to the kitchen where my mum stood with an apron tied to her waist. She had her back turned to me so I walked closer to her and rested my chin on her shoulder as I peeped at the content in the pot.

That singular gesture made my mum flinch a bit but when she saw it was just me, she raised the spatula in her hand to smack me. I dodged her attack and we both fell into fit of giggles when some content on the spatula splashed on my face.

"I thought you had plans to sleep throughout the whole day." My mum began after I had greeted and kissed her on the cheek. She loved when I did that so I made sure to do it most times - times when I was in a good mood.

"That's impossible. Not when I have a lot to pack for school tomorrow." I stole some fried plantains from the sieve and my mother smacked my hand.

"You can pack tomorrow. Why are you in a haste to leave home?" A frown took over her feature and I sighed.

"I'll have to leave one day, won't I?"

"You don't have to rub it to my face everytime." My mum shook her head and my jaw dropped.

"When did I ever?" I blurted out and when I didn't get any response, I said, "Exaggeration, mum."

I peered at my mum's face when she didn't reply again and when I saw the look on her face, I knew what she was thinking. I held her drooped shoulders with both hands and turned her to look at me.

"Mum." I began calmly. "You know I have to go. Besides, you ought to be used to my absence by now. You've been okay through out so why now that I'm going to spend my final year in college?"

"I know." My mother let out a big sigh.

"I think I should just adopt a kid. You're already grown up and very soon, you'll be talking about marriage." Her lips curved into a smile and she turned to stir the steaming stew.

I rolled my eyes now that she wasn't looking.

"Marriage is not in my agenda. That would be in twenty years time." I smirked, knowing how she would react to this.

Just as I had expected, she turned to me sharply with a scowl.

"Never! You're my only child. I won't let that happen!"

I began to laugh at her outburst and when she saw I had been joking, she hit me on my head and I grimaced, rubbing my head slowly as I walked to the nearby stool. As my mum cooked, thoughts of school filled my head.

A new semester had just begun and I was anxious and curious due to it being my final year and me getting a new roommate. Every section, students balloted for a bed space in an hostel and this made us have new roommates.

While I loved this, I couldn't deny the anxiety welling up in my tummy. What would he be like? Would I like him? Would we blend well just as I had done with Tunde?

The resounding knock on my head brought me back to reality and I glared at my mother who was already cracking up, probably from the look on my face.

"Mum!" I yelled and she struggled to maintain her balance, as laughter shook her entire body.

"Welcome back home!" She pronounced finally. "What were you thinking about? I have been calling your name."

"Nothing." I rubbed my head and stood up to help set the table for breakfast.

"Don't tell me you're anxious because of school tomorrow. What are you now? A fresher?" My mum rolled her eyes as she dished the food into two plates.

I glanced at the hallway, before turning to look at my mother who was now humming a tune to herself.

"Where's dad?" I asked.

"Left early for a business meeting." She replied sharply.

"I hope he hasn't forgotten about school tomorrow."

"He hasn't. Chill! Besides, have you called Tunde?" My mum asked as we both carried the dished out food to the dining, settling with our cutlery to do justice to the sumptuous meal before us.

"Not yet." I mumbled as I brought a spoonful of rice to my mouth. My eyes shut involuntarily at the scrumptious taste of the food. "This is really delicious, mum." I complimented and she flashed me one of her gorgeous smiles. We ate in silence then - me deep in my thought.

"It would be so lit to see Tunde as my new roommate tomorrow. What do you think, mum?" I voiced out after a while and my mum gave me an incredulous look.

"Indeed! Why would it be him out of millions of kids out there? Besides, he was your roommate in your first year, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was." I sighed. "But he could be again. It isn't impossible. After all, Tunde is the prefect roommate for me. We are just in sync: same dreams and aspirations. He is my study partner. He's just perfect."

"Why are you so concerned about your new roommate? You've always had good people for a roommate. Besides, you can get a personal apartment if you're not comfortable." She shrugged and I shook my head.

"You won't understand, mum. And just so you know, my roommates in my second and third year respectively were something else. One was a noise maker, playing music in high volume and the other was a home goer. Like. . .he went home every weekend like his life depended on it." I shook my head again.

"And what's so bad about that? You think everyone is like you that avoids home like a plague? Tell me, why exactly do you stay away from home?"

"There's nothing to do at home. No one to talk to. Just me and my books and games and television and - "

"What?!" My mum cut me off. "So I am not someone you can talk to?"

I knew she was joking from the look on her face but I had always heard there was an element of truth in every joke so I grabbed my plate and moved closer to her, placing my arm over her shoulder.

"You're my best friend, mum." I rested my head on her shoulder and I felt her relax. It was times like this I couldn't tell if being an only child was a curse or a blessing.

I worried about my mum most times for she was a full housewife and my dad was rarely at home. Though, she whirled away time with movies of all sort, I felt it wasn't enough. I would have to talk to my father about this adoption process. It wouldn't hurt to have a little brother.

After breakfast that day, I and my mother retired to my room to pack my stuffs. I wasn't a girl but I sure had a lot to pack - it was surprising. However, what was anyone expecting from a son of an affluent man?

It was dark when we finally wrapped up our packing and mum went to the kitchen to make dessert. Though my dad had brought the idea of employing a maid, my mum decided against it for reasons best known to her.

Honestly, I feel I do understand a bit but I didn't want her stressing herself. My mum had assured countless of times, she enjoyed cooking and it was a form of exercise since she had nothing else doing but I just didn't want her working herself out.

That night, various faces of people featured in my dream as my new roommate. It wasn't a big deal - I know - but it was for me. This was my last year in school so I needed someone that would help me out and not bring me down.

I could still remember how my last roommate had disturbed my reading with his ultrasonic music. Each time I complained, he asked that I left the room for the library. According to him, the room was a place of relaxation and not a place to read. I had complained bitterly to Tunde and the rest of the crew but they had advised I took things calmly so as not to aggravate issues.

It was clear my past roommate was an angry man seeking whom to vent his anger on. It didn't even help he was older than me - and quite muscular. He was sure intimidating.

It was such a relief to leave the hostel after the section ended - leave the angry beast. I would just die if such was to repeat itself. I didn't want another angry person.