By Olaleye Doyin Sunshine
Shortly after returning from the vulcanizers meeting, Taju felt a need to visit a debt-stricken client who had refused to pay for the services rendered to him a month ago.
It was almost dusk.
That would be the best time to catch an unrepentant indebted man in his house.
With a worn out sack hanging across his chest, he hurriedly slammed shut his wooden mini gate.
“I’m off to Baba Alira’s place o”
calling out to no one in particular.
It was getting too breezy and dark clouds were gathering.
He narrowly escaped a whirling tornado and mused some words of appreciation to the gods of his ancestors for not encountering evil while seeking means of livelihood.
It began to rain.. few drops.
It threatened to pour more heavily.
Villagers began to run packing in wares.
Useless baskets flew about by the wind.
The children ran into the house at the frightful sounds of the thunder.
Then it began to rain heavily.
Yet, it seemed heaven was undecided that evening.
But Taju was an unstoppable man, a much known determined soul.
He kept on striding fast.
This would be indeed the best time to meet Baba Alira before he exhausts all his recent earnings, though he learnt his goods were stolen.
He wouldn’t tolerate any excuse!
Suddenly, the lightening struck.
It went straight for a palm tree a few steps ahead of Taju.
Fire sparked, consuming the tree.
Taju thought this must be a bad omen and he immediately started running back to find a shelter.
He eventually found one and made to hide under its shade when he heard the thunderous voice of a demon and felt its searing fingers electrocuting his bones while tearing his clothes apart.
Taju’s still and burnt body was found by the villagers the following morning.
And sitting upon his bare chest was a basketful of farm produce.
The author is an award-winning International Poet, Storyteller, Peace Advocate, and a lover of Art from Nigeria. She is the author of The Scarlet, a collection of poems.