MISSING PIECE (9)


“Pastor, help me! He has done what I was suspecting he would. Where will I go? What will I tell our children?”, Jacinta wailed, handing the letter to the pastor. Pastor Kalu read it.

“That’s enough. Stop crying, you don’t need all these”, Mrs Kalu comforted.

“Sister Jacinta, we can’t be sure he ran away”, the pastor began after reading it over and over again. “And as for survival, God is in charge.”

“Pastor, where is my husband?”
“I don’t know, but God knows and we’ll talk to Him about it. God will bring him back.”
************
 “Okafor, why all this delay na? Nor be wetin we yan be this oo. You know how Mama Tee be.”

“I know. Abeg, help me talk to am. Na style I take comot for office sef and I need to rush go back. Police full office nor be small”, Okafor explained.

“Police kwa? Wetin police get for inside the matter na?”

“Dem say dem dey do investigation. Me I nor even understand. Everywhere tight nor be small.”

He exhaled deeply. How was he going to explain to her? Would she even believe me?


**********
“Hey, you! Stop there!” He kept walking. He heard footsteps running behind him. Should he run? But he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Are you not the one we’ve been calling?”, one of the men stopped him, holding his shirt.

He started to say something. “Shut up! Is he the one?”, another asked a woman.

“Yes. He stole my money and ran away”, the woman said.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?”, he asked. Someone slapped him. “You still dey throw english, abi?”

“Look, I am innocent of…..”, he pleaded to the crowd already gathering to watch the drama unfolding.

“Check him”, the woman said. “The money must still be with him, execpt if he has spent it.” They checked his pockets quickly and there it was-two thousand naira.

“Ole! Thief!” “Let’s kill him”, people shouted.

“That’s my money”, the woman said happily.

“I didn’t take this mon…..” A log of wood used to hit him sent him sprawling to the ground. “Yeye man! Look at him. You should be ashamed of yourself”, people shouted as they kept beating him.

“Take him to my car. I’ll make sure I deal with him properly”, the woman whose money was stolen said. “No, madam! He might put you in danger. You know he’s a man”, someone said.

“Stop it! I said, stop beating him”, a man said from the crowd.

For wetin? This man na correct thief.”
“He’s not a thief, I know him very well. This is a case of mistaken identity”, the man said. Someone wanted to kick him again. “If you, or anybody touch him again, I’ll make sure that person rots in jail.” They withdrew reluctantly.

“Someone get me a cab!”
She looked at him. You won’t escape next time, Armstrong. See you some other time, she thought and disappeared.

(To Be Continued)