Jungle justice is not the best option,
Let’s top jungle justice today and safe the live of the innocent
On a very hot afternoon, the sun was almost roasting my skin out of my body. It was 2:00 pm, I was going to my house from the market. I waited patiently for bus to take me home, while I was waiting, I saw a young man between the age of 30-35 years, properly dressed in white shirt stocked into his black plain trouser with a brown belt and brown shoe to complete his systematic arrangement, and I guess he was also waiting for bus, a lot of people were at that spot too. Soon enough, a long motor-bus arrived and people starting moving into the motor-bus, but then I was walking gently to the bus, admiring the color combination of this young man’s dressing also considering how dusty, dirty and scattered the environment was, with hoodlum (agboro) hanging here and there waiting for buses to come so they will load the bus and collect their normal 50 Naira.
Then all of a sudden, a lady shouted, olé olé, thief, thief, catch him, he stole my money, that’s him, thief, you stole my money and you want to enter the bus to escape, before he knew it heavy slaps from no where landed on his face. What did I do? He asked politely, “you are a thief” the lady replied. Then those hoodlums picked wands of different sizes and started hitting him not minding his appearance. Tears was almost rolling down my eyes considering how dirty these guys hitting him and clean and orderly he was dressed. Bernard could not possibly be a thief judging him by appearance and look. So you have been the one stealing people’s properties in this market?? Today you will see, someone shouted approaching him with Barton.
His white was gradually changing color combination with stains of blood from his flesh and before he could understand what is happening, he was already lying helplessly on that dirty ground, and gradually his shirts was flying out from his trouser and cutting down patch by patch.
He stole my money, olé, olé, thief, give me my money, she was still lamenting. How much did he steal from you madam?? One of the hoodlum asked. My five thousand, this man is a thief. Then they searched him and found five thousand Naira and some coins, 100 Naira, 200 Naira and 50 Naira,. Can’t you see?? This man is a big thief. The woman shouted. I can explain, please wait let me explain, Bernard pleaded inexhaustibly, but the beating only increased because five thousand Naira was found in his wallet, they were hitting him so hard that his flesh came out with the sticks as he was gradually going naked. Arrrrh, arrrrh, let me explain, I did not steal her money, Bernard continue to lament as gradually his voice reduced. Arrrrh, arrrh, arrrrh he could barely say a word when they hit him stone and sticks.
Chaii chaii, look at a handsome boy, dressed like a banker, and is a thief. What can really cause him to do this?, said one woman as she watch from a distance. I have fuel, I have tyre, if we allow him to go, he will steal from one of us another day, a young man said.
Then Bernard was almost naked because, they condemned his cloth on his body and then he was exhausted, I couldn’t help but watch from one end of the road with heavy tears rolling down my eyes. Then I saw dirty people that could not afford three square meal a day contributing 300 Niara per litre of fuel and tyre. The tyre was placed on his head and body, they poured the fuel on him and then one matchstick was enough to end his life in pain.
Arrrrrrrrrrh, Bernard shouted in great pain as he struggled to get up but was exhausted. Those hoodlums turned away one after another as the heat from the fire on Bernard’s body was getting high. Bernard was gradually turning into black smoke and people that watched from distance all went sorrowfully away, Bernard died slowly but painfully.
The woman watched how Bernard was dying and she heard someone calling “mummy mummy” she turned and then saw her son Junior running towards her and on reaching her he said loudly dragging the crowds attention, “mummy daddy said I should give you this 5000 Naira, that he took it from your bag. Eyes widened, jaw dropped and someone let out a cry “he wasn’t the one who stole the money oooo” but Bernard was just ash by then.
It was 9:00 pm that day, Bernard’s wife( newly married with her 3 months old baby boy) called her elder sister. Hello Ada, did you say Bernard come to shop today?? Yes, and I gave him five thousand to give to you, is he not back??? Oh my God, he’s not back. Where has he gone to?? My husband is not like that, he had never returned this late before. Bernard’s wife replied with her baby in her hand. He will be back dear, maybe he branched to see a friend.
This is my story and it’s all fiction. It happens everyday in your country and society.