Countless - S01 E29 (Story Episode)

3 years ago

Countless - S01 E29 (Story Episode)

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 29

While still waiting for the outcome of the sent picture, me and the other guys started communicating through mouthing signals. We told ourselves not to betray our initial stand of not confessing.
The sergeant walked in and handed over a phone to the D.P.O.

He collected it and stared at its screen for a while then he looked up.

“The boy you beat to coma is a student of Funaab. He was coming from where he went to charge his laptop at the time of the incident. He said he started running when he saw five or six guys running after him thinking they were kidnappers that wants to kidnap him to get money from his parents. He explained to us how one of you decided not to stop beating him even when the others were urging him to stop.”

He moved to the father of the boy and whispered some words to him. Then he looked up again.

“hey you.” He beckoned to me and continued. “do you remember what I said before this picture was sent?” He asked.

“I erm…you..said…only gawd can..save who ever he identifies.” I stammered in trembling voice.

“good thing that you remember. Now see who he picked….look here.” He pointed the android screen at me and my face was clearly shown on it with a sign boldly on my forehead. I started trembling nervously.

Its true that we beat him. But how can he identify only me out of six people. Is it because I was the one that caught him? I remember running faster than the rest, but still I’m not sure he even saw my face when I gave him that slidding tackle that sent him sprawling on the floor before the other guys arrived and started beating him.

I remember the initial plan that we made through signal of not confessing to beating him under no matter what.

“whose face is it boy? Answer me!” His command tone brought me out of my unconcluded thoughts.

“Its my face sir, but..I didn’t…”
He cuts in.

“you didn’t what? Are you crazy? Even with this? Sergeant!”.. He roared and a heavy slap landed on my neck and its effect rendered me groaning on the floor. It was so excruciatingly painful that I started to wail and plead as the sergeant kicked my knees and legs with his heavy boot.

The D.P.O ordered him to stop and drag me up. He approached me and asked again.

“who beat him!?” He voiced angrily.

“ple…ase…I didn’t.. You can ask my friends…they can bear me wit…ness sir..” I stuttered. Hoping my friends will come to my aid because of our plan.

He turned to Habeeb and the latter was already shaking.
“he said you are ready to bear his witness, that you can stake your life on it that he didn’t beat the boy.” He asked Habeeb with a high level of intimidation.

I eyed Habeeb and gave him a ‘PLEASE I BEG’ look.

“I…I..didn’t know anything about it sir…he was the only one I saw with the robb…the boy when I came out of my room.”

‘Am I dreaming? How can Habeeb say…’

“and what was he doing with the boy when you saw him.” The D.P.O asked again.

“He..was beating him, but me and my friends told him to stop, he didn’t listen, that was when I told Jyboh to call the police before he kills the boy.” Habeeb replied conivingly or betrayingly, or whatever adjective you can find to qualify that statement.

I looked at Habeeb and I saw this ‘I NO FIT GO PRISON’ look on his betrayal face.

The D.P.O smiled and asked the other guys to confirm what Habeeb have said and they attested to it.

Even as big as the Bible is, it contained just only one Judas from Genesis to Revelation but here I am in this D.P.O’s office with Five black Judas hanging on my neck and the D.P.O serving as king Herod.

‘Shango where is your nuclear thunder?’

No amount of words can be used to describe how I was feeling at that moment.

He ordered the sergeant to release Habeeb and co’s.

The D.P.O was beaming with a look of accomplishment.

The D.P.O led the boys parent outside and came back some minutes later.

He sat on the chair and told the returning sergeant to bring me closer to him.

“I know how you feel boy, but that is life, we do things at times, thinking it is the best thing to do, but only other people can show us the errors of our ways.” He stopped obviously wanting to know my reaction but I gave him a ‘SPARE ME THE HYPROCRITIC LECTURE’ look and he continued. “now, I will give you two options to help you out. Since police is your friend. Are you listening?” He asked with a deep baritone voice. I nodded and he proceeded. “you can call anybody that will come and pay your fine and bail of three hundred thousand naira or spend the next 3 years of your life inside that detention cell you just visited. Choice is yours boy.” He said conclusively.

Which kind country is this? I should pay 3 hundred K for what? For catching a thief and handing him to the police? This is one of the reasons why we need to vote Shango as our president in the next election.

I agreed to the option of fine and my phone was given to me to call whoever I want to call. But that situation begs for this question: Who do I call?