African StoriesLife and General Fiction StoriesNaija Stories

I Am

Three hours came and past, Obiajulu was still lying on a wooden bench behind the counter of a police station. The two police officers guarding him hadn’t received any instruction from above to bail him.

God had visited him last night. But he wasn’t sure if he came to him in the dream or it was an apparition. God had promised to rescue him so that he could believe in his powers and serve him.

A throaty voice echoed in the dingy room. Obiajulu sat up from the wooden bench and realized that the voice could only be existing in his head.

“It has begun. Watch and know that I am what I am,” the voice roared and yet again he couldn’t see anybody.

Obiajulu eyeballed the policemen. One was writing into a gigantic register while the other was staring into a short book.

Momentarily, Sergeant Okey, the policeman that was writing, screamed, “Jesu!” He held his left ear as though it would fall off if left alone. “Why you slap me na?” he asked, scowling at Sergeant Emeka, with his palm smoothing his cheek.

Sergeant Emeka only stared at him, lines of confusion contorting his face. “You dey craze?” he asked, pointing a finger at his head in demonstration of madness. “Why I go slap you?

They held each other’s gaze for a short while before they returned to what they were doing. Obiajulu knew that neither of the policemen slapped the other; perhaps, it could be all God’s plan.

Another round of an invisible slap was evident in the way Sergeant Emeka lurched and turned, grabbing at the nape of Sergeant Okey, threatening to return the slap.

As they were still fighting, a bare-chested man with a towel wrapped around his waist and soapy foams gathering around his body, barged into the room. He looked troubled and was panicking. The terror in his eyes was akin to a person who had seen a ghost. Obiajulu lept to his feet and accousted the man but the man drew back, avoiding a body contact with Obiajulu and his eyes still holding the terror.

Abeg, make you na release this man nau nau nau!” the man shouted, shifting his gaze to the policemen who had started gaping at him the moment he walked in like he was running mad.

Ooo! You don see am? I know say I dey innocent,” Obiajulu’s voice pitched but the man had disappeared before he could turn to thank him for changing his mind, even though he had accused him falsely for raping his daughter.

Sergeant Emeka pressed down on Obiajulu’s shoulders. “My friend! Seat don here,” his eyes were devoid of any emotions. “So, for your mind you wan commot here without rogering us, abi?” Oya! Oya! Oya! Roger us.”

Obiajulu’s lips parted, but the words thronging his throat failed to pour out. He leaned against the greasy wall defenselessly.

Sergeant Okey who was quiet a while ago started acting weirdly. Obiajulu caught him staring into his eyes as though he was seeing him for the first time and then gazing blankly at a space beside him as though someone else was standing there.

Guy, you be twin?” Sergeant Okey asked, trying to wipe off a non-existing spec from his eyes.

For where! Na only me my mama born oo!

Why I come dey see you here wey you see don and at the same time you come dey stand for here?

Confirming what Seargent Okey was saying, Seargent Emeka pulled him up from the wooden bench and walked him out of the door and forbade him to come back ever again.

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