By David Kwakye
The often ear-disturbing sound of a cockerel’s crow performed the duties of an alarm clock when I was growing up. At the point when the moon was being bullied into submission by the sun, the cockerels would get into a choir, serenading the small village with different pitches of sounds.
Upon waking up, squinting as the resplendent rays of the sun engaged earth and its inhabitants in a fierce romance, I’d head for the stream to fetch water, burdening my neck as I returned home with a pot of water on my head.
I look back to those times with a lot of relish; fond memories that spring to life easily, sometimes, even without being summoned.
And it was because of those fond memories that when my son, Kwasi, suggested that we visit Mampong, our home town, for a weekend, I didn’t hesitate. Kwasi had just joined the boy’s scout, and was eager to taste life in the village.
“Dad, let’s go to the village. We can build tents on grandpa’s farm. We don’t have to carry mobile phones. You can tell us all the Kwaku Ananse stories grandpa used to tell you when you were younger,” Kwasi had said.
I had a series of business trips outside Ghana to attend, but hearing the excitement in my son’s voice, my conscience wouldn’t have allowed me to think freely, if I denied the boy. I’d agreed to go to the village, thinking it was going to be a father-son trip to Mampong, but my wife, Erica, had opted to come too.
If I’d known fate had placed danger on my father’s farm, I would have bought Kwasi a new video game and attended the business trip.
We’d left Accra on Saturday morning. Because of Kwasi’s request, my wife had prepared enough food to last us the weekend. The ice chest was full, with enough drinks to last a week.
Erica had been born into a family that swam in opulence, and so spending time on the farm was something of a new experience to her as well.
My Porsche Cayenne had journeyed on the undulating road, carrying us from Accra to Mampong in comfort. By evening, we were setting up the tent that would serve as a temporary shelter for us on my father’s farm.
Heavy hands from the Heavens had clapped, ushering in a roll of thunder in the skies the moment we finished setting up the tents, and I should have known that was a warning for us to leave the farm.
“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Erica had said.
As we would come to find out, rain was coming, but it wasn’t coming from the skies.
The clock had barely struck midnight, when I heard the sound of dried leaves being oppressed up the feet of a human being. I knew it was a human being because of how calculated the steps were. I’d tried to reach for the torch light, but before I could locate the torch light, my eye balls were assaulted by sharp rays that came from outside the tent.
A stinging sensation had registered on my face, when a blow was dealt to it. Before I could get to my feet, my arms were grabbed and I felt ropes being tired around them. Kwasi’s face had flashed in my mind, and I’d tried to fight of the men who were trying to kidnap me but my efforts ended in futility.
My assailants carried me outside, and I counted fifteen men. My heart had already broken into a marathon, but it borrowed Usain Bolt’s legs, when I saw Manu, my old friend from high school. Seeing Manu, I knew my family was in danger, for I’d rubbed him green several years ago.
I tried to fight my way out of captivity, when I heard Erica’s muffled cries, but again, my efforts yielded no results. My vain efforts only succeeded in providing a source of amusement for Manu.
Manu had shaken his head and turned around to leave. The men he had come with followed him as he led us to my father’s abandoned barn.
As the men carried me away, my feet touching the floor occasionally due to how much I was struggling, my mind was forced into the mode of retrospection.
Manu and I had been good friends and we spent most of our time together. The only time we competed fiercely was when it came to academics. If I placed first in the end of term examination, he would place second.
“All the best, but I’m going to beat you to first place this term,” he would say, every time we finished studying.
And because of how close I was with Manu, I’d warned him about Linda when she came his way. Linda lived in village, or neighbourhood, if you want to call it that, and she was known to be a girl with lose morals. Manu hadn’t listened, and had started dating Linda, investing all of his heart as the relationship grew.
Linda visited me one morning when the sky had decided to weep; sending towards earth, pellet-sized drizzles. My family had gone away for a funeral, and I was alone in the house. Linda had stayed for less than five minutes, when she started making advances towards me. I’d wanted to resist, but when she kissed my neck, the seed of betrayal was sown. I’d started climbing the trees of coitus with her, but before we could reach the apex, Manu showed up.
A nasty fight ensured between Manu and I, but that fight would be the least of the fights he would have to engage in after that day. His mind had failed to decipher the betrayal I’d exhibited, and depression had hugged his brain tightly; an occurrence that forced him to fail his final examination. Manu had taken to fraud after he flunked school, slowly growing and becoming one of the most feared criminals in the country.
The men carrying me brought me out of the path of retrospection when they threw me onto the floor the moment we got to the old barn.
I’d watched on with dread, as Manu went over to my wife, and cupped her breast in his hands. He smiled at me and ordered his men out of the barn.
“You know what they say about revenge, right?” Manu had asked, as he licked away the tears that were snaking down Erica’s cheeks.
I cast a look in Kwasi’s direction, and the poor boy was shaking with fear. I tried to extricate my wrist from the ropes of bondage, but my efforts only yielded frustration as its results.
I watched on with a heart that beat to the tune of sad songs, as Manu raised Erica’s skirt. I’d wanted to close my eyes because I didn’t want to witness what was about to ensue, but before my lids could embrace each other, the old doors to the barn were kicked open. Through it, five well-built men with assault rifles rushed in.
“There he is,” one of the men had said, before charging at Manu. Manu tried to run but the men caught up with him before he could leave the barn.
A vicious beat down had ensued. I wondered why Manu’s men hadn’t come to his aid, but I’d come to find out soon.
The men had perforated Manu’s intestines with the sharp edges of a hunter’s knife, covering his mouth and keeping his death-induced cries within him.
The men cast long looks at my family and I, debating whether or not to attack us, before one of the men said, “They are not the reason we came, let’s go.”
The men had barely left the room, when Kwasi started running towards me with tears in his eyes. He hugged me tightly, before untying my hands. Apparently, he managed to wriggle his wrists from the knots of bondage Manu’s men had tied.
I rushed towards Erica and untied her, before stepping out of the barn.
My hurried steps were halted, when my eyes fed on the scenes before me. Men, with different sizes and lengths of cuts on their skins, lay lifeless on the floor. The floor had become like an abattoir, being an uncomfortable host for human blood. I was about to carry Kwasi on my shoulders, when bright circular beams fell on me.
“Stop!” A voice had screamed.
I obliged, and held Kwasi tightly. After my eyes had gotten acclimatised to the sudden brightness, I saw policemen arriving.
“Where are the armed robbers?” A man with an inspectors badge on his shoulders had asked.
“They took into the forest not too long ago,” I’d informed him.
The inspector ordered some of the men he came with to take to the forest. He entered the barn, and standing in the doorway, he shook his head.
I asked the inspector what was happening, and he’d told me Manu had had competition from a rival robbery gang not too long ago. The gang had wanted to discuss with Manu, the areas in the Ashanti Region they would operate, but at the meeting, Manu had killed their boss. The police had gotten wind of Manu coming to Mampong for personal revenge earlier in the evening, and they were aware of the rival gang tracking Manu to Mampong too to avenge the death of their boss.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” the inspector had said. “Neither of the gangs leaves witnesses behind.”
I thanked the inspector, and with my family by my side, we left for the Porsche Cayenne. I left Mampong without saying goodbye to my family. As I drove from Mampong, I kept thanking God for taking my family and I from the debris-littered valley of death.
Daily Graphic/graphic.com.gh/Ghana
