The Lives We Lived

11: Woman in the station

Bode was pushed to the front desk where a fair skinned female officer glared at him from behind her thick spectacules. The cause of his problem was pushed to him. As soon as the man hit him, bode spun around and poleaxed the young driver. Even though his hands were bound in handcuffs, he was able to give the young driver a punch that had the driver staggering to the floor.

The driver was down but Bode hadn't had enough. He raised his feet and brought his heel down on the man's stomach. Twice. The man groaned under the weight of bode's knees that were now against his chest.

"Please, Oga.. Oga.." the driver wheezed in short pants but Bode would hear none of it.

"Would somebody restrain this street taut?" He heard the police woman say. He didn't care if she was the law or not. They had no right to detain him. He did what he had to do. He had to get Zainab to the hospital. She'd just gone in for the surgery when the stupid policemen invaded the hospital and whisked him away.

He was still trapped in his soliloquy when they hoisted him to his feet and slammed him against the cracked cement slab that held a large hardcover note, a book with jarred edges and torn pages that looked like it would be rejected by a carnal, and an inkless pen

He raised his eye to see the police woman shaking her head at him. Her neat braid was packed in a tight bun beneath her black police cap. A light coating of essential make-up didn't hide the ruggedness of her sharp jaw. Her glasses day firm above her nose.

"So where did you get this one from?" She asked.

"I was taking my wife to the hospital when -" He was cut short by a sharp slap against his neck. He tried to stand tall and give the offender a piece of his fist but he was slammed back on the concrete and two policemen laid their torso across his body just to keep him restrained. His chest hurt from the coolness of his forced prison but he refused to give them the pleasure of showing his displeasure.

"Will you shut up. If I don't speak to you. Don't speak." She eyed him from beneath her almost non-existent lashes. Her slightly chubby cheeks rose with each word and spit sprayed from her mouth to his face. This time he scrunched his face in disgust.

Who did she think she was to speak to him anyhow? Was she aware of whom she was speaking to? He could afford to finance the state's police department if he really felt like it.

"Where is your Boss? Your IG?" He asked.

She passed him a pitying look quickly followed by a smug smile. "You are looking at her."

His eyes widen and his dilated pupils threatened to burst out of his eyes socket? She? She who, with her slim skeleton like figure, looked more like a twig than a human being. How could she be the IG?

"Surprised?" Amusement made her dark eyes sparkle and for a brief second he forgot about his injured wife and his adopted son who was still strapped to the chair in his car.

The young driver's anxious shaky voice broke the spell. "Please ma. I dey beg. I no need to scratch im car. Na mistake. I no no dey he been get pikin inside."

*Please ma. I'm pleading. I didn't mean to scratch his car. It was a mistake. I did not know that he had a child in there*

"You are not sorry oh. Let.me just get out of here. I will finish you." Bode swore.

Another slap blessed his neck and this time he felt the slap far beneath the surface of his flesh. How could they hold him up like a common criminal?

The Inspector General(IG) ignored Bode and focused on the rail thin man whose skin adequately marked all the curvatures of his bone. The man's oversized shirt, a green that was so dull it seemed to repel light, hung unbalanced from one shoulder. The colour of the shirt seemed to be so from age or dirt. Bode couldn't tell which. All he cared about was making his fist connect with the man's face. The man didn't even wear shoes.