[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

“God don catch your father this evening,” Baba 70 snarled and ran towards a boys quarter close to the Government College Ikoyi.

He lifted one or two things up here but couldn’t find what he searched for. He scud sideways still searching for nothing and his eyes caught a crate of long forgotten 7up bottles. He drew one out and smashed the rotund part on the wall with agility and one would marvel at such expertise.

He was left with little – just the narrow part that looked like the neck of the bottle and some uneven ridges that detached from the other part of the bottle. He held it in his hand, tightly. The pointed edges piercing out as he launched to attack his victim.

Bala, the head boy and company had met their long awaited opponent finally now, as they raced back from the bus-stop – at the back of the Government College Ikoyi.

The head boy looked unsteady at the first instance he saw Baba 70 racing to locate something but his dignity could, would not let him rip for his life. He had stood on one spot to know what Baba 70’s intentions were as he searched for something among the rubble. Then he heard the sound, `gboos!!!’

Who go wait???.

Izu went closer to Bala, and stood on level with him, knocking his head against him. His face frowned to his forehead. Then Bala who was so vexed this time did the wrong thing. He pushed Izu away yet Izu didn’t fall. The next thing Izu did was to deck Bala continuously as his anger welled.

Bala tried to react but wasn’t clear to throw a punch, the best thing was to just keep dodging or guarding. The cane he had held had been nowhere to be found. And what if it were? Would he be trying to flog someone that was wrecking him punches? That would have been a joke told at the night of madness at S. Williams theatre of the absurd.

There was no `Senior’ Bala’s notion any longer, – trying to beat Izu with a cane because he was his junior. They were now of same manpower, standing equal to each other without sentiment or bias.

Bala’s hand couldn’t throw a single punch even with his height. All he did was to guard and move out of position, but it was getting too much for him to handle. Yet, he couldn’t run away, Izu was riding him. He wasn’t used to such boxing. He preferred `monkey fight’ where one person would have or try to throw the other and the victorious would inflict the wrath of anger on the trolled.

He would have to beg for mercy to gain release from the pin-down and constant banging of the head against the floor. Sand-filling the mouth or bouts of punches that would render the teeth all worn-out, broken nose and swollen eyes.

However, that sort of fight was mostly associated with women except in core tribes of the Yorubas,’ Igbos’, and partly Hausas,’ who called it local wrestling.

This scene was of no village square or gathering of such fight to know who the strongest warrior of the tribe/village was. The fight of Lagosian was boxing, exception to those exiled ‘Oyoist’ who `are’ hooligans that had constituted nuisance to Lagos by using bottle at any slight fight. It was their power.

He bent and stampeded forward. Cling Izu unaware at the knee and held his trousers tight. He tried to throw Izu but he stood rooted to the ground like a coconut root. They seemed to have multiplied and taken channels at various places beneath the earth surface.

Izu didn’t stop trying to punch him even when he wasn’t at arms reach anymore. He aimed endlessly for Bala’s chin, still trying to make sure, he couldn’t be thrown.

With effective and determined calculations, Bala lifted him, not really high as he was so much tons of 2 sacks of fermented cassava. Thud!!! Was the next thing that sounded on the ground as if a spaceship had crashed landed on the spot. The ground shook. Bala pounced to him, to pin him down and teach him a lesson.

***

As the others saw a charging Baba 70 running towards them, they took to their heels yet Baba 70 followed in hot pursuit. He trailed the head boy most importantly. There was three ways which led to the Wahab School building. It was either one took the Ikoyi gate and walk some steps or one took the boulevard outside the complex walls or passed the back of the boys quarters’ beside the GCI.

No one with his right senses could, would have tried running away from this madman and face the bus-stop where greater danger was laying ambush for one. None of it was worth facing as both might lead to bloodbath or even the loss of life – if one wasn’t careful.
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Each person founded his bearing. Two people jumped to climb the bridge and crossed to the other side of the bridge beside the Foreshore Osborne Estate. They didn’t even check may be there was a vehicle coming, they `barrel`ed’.

The head boy on his part seemed to have had a tyre or two fixed underneath his feet within a minute as he was running at top speed towards their school gate. He had run so far, his legs flying and jerking in the air that he didn’t realise no one was in his pursuit again. Baba 70 had suddenly turned the scene into a joke. He stood halfway laughing at the coward of a head boy who raced along, away from ghost chase.

He laughed and laughed and laughed that he didn’t know when he sat on the tarred road, – tears coming out of his eyes. He was still laughing and hadn’t figured out the head boy was nowhere in sight again. He had entered the gate. Then a car horn brought him back to reality when he remembered Bala was with Izu, wrestling/boxing.

To Be Continued…..