THIS WAS SENT BY ONE ON OUR READERS........
It was a windy and dusty evening. All exciting and rigorous activities
of the day drew closely to an end. Traders packed their merchandise,
locking their stores, some humming graceful tones. Buyers and visitors
hurried along, thoughts of the rush hour hastened the pace of their
movements. Friends and customers exchanged farewell remarks to one
another as they departed on a lonesome quest to leave the market. Horns
blared from the nearby garage, beckoning invite for any who cared to
take a ride in their paths. It was rowdy and noisy, many wore warm
smiles; the culmination of a blissful trading day, while the unfriendly
faces of some told tales of misfortune, and the rest bore a haggard
expression of '
tomorrow might be better': hope of uncertainty.
The setting sun radiated ember light like a blushing virgin after
hearing a suitor's thrilling romantic poem. It was a beautiful-scare,
but none seemed to care until a sudden bang jeered everyone to a
startled shock. Baba Muniru laid lifeless in his own pool of blood, a
fresh gore at the back of his head oozing out blood uncontrollably.
Young Muniru sat close to the still body of his father, crying; "Why is
daddy not moving again? Mummy will be waiting at home. I am hungry,
daddy lets go home." Men and women were seen taking to their heels;
running helter-skelter as if possessed by demons; so much pandemonium,
the result of a sudden bang from an unknown source.
No one cared to discover what disaster had befallen Baba Muniru, except
for little Muniru, wondering what could have happened to his Papa. Head
gears and scarves danced about, tossed by the rhythm of the wind, flying
shoes and goods were seen higgledy-piggledy all around. Everybody for
themselves! Crying children everywhere, unattended to by running
parents, the chaotic scene became a living hell as another thunderous
bang echoed in the air making the day grow suddenly dark..
************************
Today is 24th of March, 2006. Its two days since my first obligation as an Akonian. Let me tell you how it started.
'Allah-hu-hakbar', the cacophonous blare from the horn speaker of a
nearby mosque jolted me back to consciousness. I found myself on my
hostel apartment mattress, dressed as if I was ready for an outing.
Still under the dizzy nature, I stole a glance at the wall clock and
what I saw jeered me out of bed. My blur sight scanned the room, and my
memory jogged back, 'I never remembered returning to this room last
night after the Akoni Conference'. I shook my head, slumped into a
nearby chair to have a thorough thought of last night escapade. It’s
been fourteen hours sleep, and I have missed two lectures for today,
poor me!
My head aches and I decided to go have a shower. Taking off my T-shirt
revealed a startling shock; my shoulder bears the fresh symbol of an
Akoni smeared into my skin. It hurt and burns so much. Now my memory
played back to the event of last night. Still pondering while taking off
my trouser, reveal another surprise. A note fell from my jean pocket as
I pulled. "Mission 101- beneath the last seat on the left roll of
lecture hall 002. Check by
6p.m", was the content of the note.
Arinze walked into the cafeteria like a zombie, all who saw felt he was
in dismay. He sat quietly at a corner, buried in deep thoughts of what
great bizarre awaits him. Silence fell upon the hall as Moshood a.k.a
Macho prance into the scene, most persons began to stumble out in fear,
'Macho don't just walk about at day time, he is either after something,
or something is going down', goes the normal saying on everybody's mind
as they stared. He walked straight to Arinze, bent over and whispered in
his ear. None heard what was said, but the bewildered shock on Arinze's
face as Macho tramples away wearing a devilish grin bears the message
of doom, 'Arinze don enta gbege with the Shivon', muttered a voice in
the hall,
'Chai! Na Akoni number one hitman be dat o'.
The parcel was firmly plastered beneath the seat, and it took a careful
moment to neatly get it off. 'Whatever was in this parcel is definitely
not going to be fun', I thought as I walked through the live-less hall,
making a head way for the exit door. None of my roommates was home yet,
and I felt a bit relieved for the first time that day. I switched on my
rechargeable lamp ones I manage to unlock the door and firmly shut it
behind me afterward.
I sat at our reading table, and poured out the content of the parcel; a
gun and a piece of folded note. I scrambled to my feet, my hands locked
together on my head, 'I don die!' It took some minutes of deep thoughts
to summon courage, I remembered what Macho told me earlier that day, and
I picked up the note to read.
"Three bullets in the gun. One for the target, second for your escape,
third for you if you are about to get caught. Make it a clean job, no
failure allowed.
TARGET- Thunder; rivalry hitman of Da'capons fraternity, killer of our Shivon ten years ago.
LOCATION: Ajanlabe Central Market.
TIME:
6:30p.m (rush hour)
tomorrow.
SPECIFICATION: Assassinate Baba Muniru alone." - MACHO (SHIVON)
MOSES OLAROTIMI
@Sheyzznote.
(TALESMEN)
