In the morning, the heavens opened and it began to rain. Bella grabbed her umbrella to get to school, as she walked out of the hostel the first
Ali was caught in a Naija bet center, after he stole Abubarka's Iphone7. It happened that Abubarka kept his Iphone7 on a table after he dropped his last call. Few minutes Ali entered with his gang. Ali's eye glanced on the table where Abubarka carelessly dropped his phone while going to talk to one of the Naija bet representatives over the counter.
He squint his eyes on the phone and pretended not to have seen it. His body began to vibrate he became tensed and
because of the rush in trooping into the entrance of the Naija bet center, everywhere became rowdy more like a zoo and uncontrollable.
He later settled, waiting to seize any slight opportunity to pick the phone. He aimed at the phone tirelessly. He was pissed up, his whole system was set ablaze. His eyes lit up in worries because he wouldn't want to loose that opportunity to own Iphone7 or possibly sell it out to get money to quench his taste for Indian hemp. If his eyes were gun, he would have used it to silence the people there to make the atmosphere conducive for him.
When he saw that people's focus were no more on the direction of the phone. "Attendant, you are busy i will check in later," Ali said. He blinked his eyes to discharge his gang, after which, he turned instinctively to walk away.
Unknown to him a customer was at one corner sighting at him. He watched him entered the centre and since then never stopped spying on him. The young man shouted, "hey, where is your phone? I think that gangster has your phone." "thief catch him, thief catch him, thief catch him," Abubarka alarmed.
Few minutes the scene was rip-roaring, angry men began to give him the beating of his life, they incessantly took turns in doing that. "he deserves worst than this. He doesn't deserve to live." instantly bruises were seen all over his body, oozing blood. As if they were butchering a cow. Yet he bluntly refused to reveal his true identity. And also refused to give clue of his partners in crime, his gang.
He was such a notorious criminal. When the noticed he also faked his house address, they were infuriated with anger that they felt like to crush him, with unflagging resolve they beat him mercilessly.
The amazing part was that in spite of the wounds and deep cuts all over his body, though he looked hurt but if he felt the hurt he never showed it, he was enduring the long lasting torment. "no wonder, look at him, such a hefty, young man, he has reserved and indisputable strength with square build. This is the kind of strength every boisterious and vibrant youth needs to insert the energy on jobs that are lucrative. Or better still get themselves self employed, instead of trying to rip off of another person's hard work," said one old woman.
"yes oh, this one his family may be waiting on him to shoulder the responsibility of the family in helping to provide the necessities of life. I gave birth to a son. So this one is also a son now?" one young woman asked teasingly.
The third woman chipped in, "i pity his family who may be thinking that their son is responsible, without knowing that their son is a picking pocket, dipping his hand in other people's pocket. Very lazy, how can monkey work, bull will eat. Extracting money and valuables from people as if they had to remit them of the money the fizzled out to earn. Enjoying other people's hard earned?" she twisted and clipped her finger in rejection.
"some mothers know what their children do, supporting them to be rascals with the reason that they know what they want, stupid and evil mothers," the other woman said in resentment. "he doesn't deserve to live, it's his type that even shoot people at the verge of snatching people's property and money, terrorizing the society."
Every other person were cursing and raining abuses on him, some spitting on him, doing caricature of him. Nobody wanted him alive, this lasted for one hour before he collapsed because he had lost so much blood from him already, doubtfully he may survive.
He squint his eyes on the phone and pretended not to have seen it. His body began to vibrate he became tensed and
because of the rush in trooping into the entrance of the Naija bet center, everywhere became rowdy more like a zoo and uncontrollable.
He later settled, waiting to seize any slight opportunity to pick the phone. He aimed at the phone tirelessly. He was pissed up, his whole system was set ablaze. His eyes lit up in worries because he wouldn't want to loose that opportunity to own Iphone7 or possibly sell it out to get money to quench his taste for Indian hemp. If his eyes were gun, he would have used it to silence the people there to make the atmosphere conducive for him.
When he saw that people's focus were no more on the direction of the phone. "Attendant, you are busy i will check in later," Ali said. He blinked his eyes to discharge his gang, after which, he turned instinctively to walk away.
Unknown to him a customer was at one corner sighting at him. He watched him entered the centre and since then never stopped spying on him. The young man shouted, "hey, where is your phone? I think that gangster has your phone." "thief catch him, thief catch him, thief catch him," Abubarka alarmed.
Few minutes the scene was rip-roaring, angry men began to give him the beating of his life, they incessantly took turns in doing that. "he deserves worst than this. He doesn't deserve to live." instantly bruises were seen all over his body, oozing blood. As if they were butchering a cow. Yet he bluntly refused to reveal his true identity. And also refused to give clue of his partners in crime, his gang.
He was such a notorious criminal. When the noticed he also faked his house address, they were infuriated with anger that they felt like to crush him, with unflagging resolve they beat him mercilessly.
The amazing part was that in spite of the wounds and deep cuts all over his body, though he looked hurt but if he felt the hurt he never showed it, he was enduring the long lasting torment. "no wonder, look at him, such a hefty, young man, he has reserved and indisputable strength with square build. This is the kind of strength every boisterious and vibrant youth needs to insert the energy on jobs that are lucrative. Or better still get themselves self employed, instead of trying to rip off of another person's hard work," said one old woman.
"yes oh, this one his family may be waiting on him to shoulder the responsibility of the family in helping to provide the necessities of life. I gave birth to a son. So this one is also a son now?" one young woman asked teasingly.
The third woman chipped in, "i pity his family who may be thinking that their son is responsible, without knowing that their son is a picking pocket, dipping his hand in other people's pocket. Very lazy, how can monkey work, bull will eat. Extracting money and valuables from people as if they had to remit them of the money the fizzled out to earn. Enjoying other people's hard earned?" she twisted and clipped her finger in rejection.
"some mothers know what their children do, supporting them to be rascals with the reason that they know what they want, stupid and evil mothers," the other woman said in resentment. "he doesn't deserve to live, it's his type that even shoot people at the verge of snatching people's property and money, terrorizing the society."
Every other person were cursing and raining abuses on him, some spitting on him, doing caricature of him. Nobody wanted him alive, this lasted for one hour before he collapsed because he had lost so much blood from him already, doubtfully he may survive.
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