Accused: The Blind Boy’s Revenge / Chapter 1: The Apple Stand Accusation
Accused: The Blind Boy’s Revenge

Accused: The Blind Boy’s Revenge

Author: Shelia Lawrence


Chapter 1: The Apple Stand Accusation

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The three classmates wey invite me go play don die. When police find me, na for where I dey help my grandma sell apple dem catch me.

For that hot afternoon, as I dey fan myself with small nylon under the umbrella, na so I see two police officers waka come, their shoes dey raise dust for the dry roadside. I blink the pale artificial eye wey wahala give me—left socket just dey shine. I tell them, "Una go buy apple? My grandma apple na the best."

Three students for our junior secondary don die, and na after dem carry me go play yesterday dem die.

The news spread for the area like harmattan fire, people begin gather, even Okada men park to listen. When their parents hear, dem rush come my grandma apple stand, surround me, begin beat me, dey shout say na me kill their pikin.

E be like film. The mamas no even let ground rest, dey drag my shirt, wrappers dey fly, the papas dey throw punch. The air thick with sweat, wrappers dey fly, and dust choke my nose. Na so dem begin throw blow and kick anyhow. Wetin I fit do? I just dey wave my hand small small, dey try push away the pain wey dey choke me.

My grandma, Mama Ebere, dey cry, try cover me, but dem just push am aside like say she no mean anything. She just dey scream, her voice dey break, dey beg dem make dem stop. For her old age, dem push her sotey she nearly fall for gutter. Her hand dey shake, old veins like dry okro stick.

From shout and curse, she come kneel down, dey beg. Her voice dey break, like say every slap wey touch me dey land for her chest too. The women for market begin shout too, some dey beg, others just dey watch with their hand for waist.

By the time police show, my face don swell, everywhere bruise, grandma dey cry sotey she nearly faint. She hold her wrapper with one hand, the other dey clutch me like chicken.

Dem pull the parents comot from my body, talk say, "We get some question about your three classmates wey die. Abeg, follow us..." For their eyes, e be like say I carry curse.

One young officer look my injury, e pause, then quick change mouth:

"Abeg, follow us go health centre first make dem treat you, then we go station for the investigation." His voice no carry wahala, but you fit see small pity for him eye, as e dey look my wound.

I no talk. I just bend my head, use my blurry right eye find one apple wey never spoil among the ones wey dem scatter for ground. My chest dey tight, but I no wan cry for front of people.

I raise the apple, blink my eye, the artificial one for my left socket just dey shine with that pale light. I talk:

"Una go buy apple? My grandma own na the best." The apple small, but red like Ogbono pepper. I still manage laugh small.

The young policeman just dey look me, e no talk, like say e dey try see whether I dey play any trick. For market, nothing dey hide from people eye, so all man, woman, even children just dey look as drama dey unfold.

But before long, the angry shout of the dead students’ parents scatter the air: "Why you dey do like say you dey pity murderer, Officer Musa? Handcuff am, carry am go station make e confess!" Their voice sharp, some spit fly for mouth.

Officer Musa no answer them, e just ask me again, "You go fit cooperate with the investigation?" E voice dey steady, but e dey look me like person wey don see too many wahala.

I drop my hand, bite the apple. "E sweet well well. Grandma no suffer for nothing.

Officer Musa, when person die, una dey find who kill am, but when person own stall—their only way to survive—dem scatter am, una no go care?" As I talk, my voice low, but I dey shake.

Before Officer Musa fit answer, the parents shout again:

"You this murderer, you need beating! If you no confess, anytime we see this your useless stall, we go scatter am—scatter am till you talk the truth!" One mama use her shoe stamp one of the apples for ground.

I just waka go help grandma stand up, talk to Officer Musa, "Grandma apple don spoil finish, and the beating wey dem give me don make my ear dey ring—maybe na concussion or I fit even lose hearing. E no bad if I report say na them start wahala, abi?" As I talk, my voice dey tremble, my leg dey weak, but I hold grandma hand tight.

Officer Musa rub him forehead, look like say e understand why I dey insist, ask, "You go accept make we settle am here?" E voice get that kind tiredness wey only police for Nigeria sabi.

I smile. "You get ten minutes. After ten minutes, I dey go health centre for check-up, then I go report them. After I finish my own, I go cooperate with una." I look am well, my eye dey strong.

Officer Musa nod, go talk to the parents. As e waka go, some market women come round me, dey whisper, "Sorry o. Children of nowadays dey wicked." One old mama even dash me one pure water.

E no even reach ten minutes, he come back with two hundred thousand naira.

E be like say dem really dey fear make dem no waste time for this murder matter. Even as dem dey grumble, dem count money with hand wey dey shake.

I collect the money, give grandma, bend my head, tell her, "We gats believe say good and bad get their reward...

If e no happen, then na we go find our own justice." I hug her, my heart dey beat kpokpo like generator for new house. I fit feel my sweat dey run for my back, but I hold grandma tight, no wan let go.

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