Tag Archive | Criminal Justice

Jungle Justice…

jungle justice.PNG

I walked away from the scene the saddest human; lost in my thoughts I felt more guilty than sin.

Jungle justice. I just witnessed a man get pummelled to an inch of his life, with old tyres soaked in fuel and hung around his neck to roast him alive; they said he had kidnapped a child.

Growls of thunder and sudden downpour sent many scattering for cover, the cacophony of those baying for his blood are reduced to a handful. For once, sudden rain showers of the rainy season come at an opportune time.

Maybe the Heavens didn’t like the sorry sight of a human being burnt alive, this made me think of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

Shoulders hunched in deep thought, I didn’t feel the rain, neither did I make any attempts to dodge the puddles of muddy water dotting the pot-holed street. The smell of burnt flesh occupied my nostrils and seared into my brain.

I was drenched in no time, yet the evil of what my eye’s had seen made my skin crawl with filth, and through the corner of my eyes I saw a mother hen waiting out the rain under a Mallam’s kiosk, her brood cocooned under her warm feathers.

I fleetingly wondered if she saw what I saw and what were her thoughts?

For once, I wanted the simple life of the chicken; without guilt and running free, at least until the owner who had tied the green bands on its feet decides to catch it for Christmas meal.

© Jacqueline

Note: Jungle justice is very much practised in Africa. Sometimes, people beat criminals to death, or pulp before the police officers arrive on the scene. This story is written from memory of an incident that I witnessed ages ago.

Quick glossary:

Mallam – an honorific title given to a Muslim scholar but carelessly used to address most street vendors from the Northern part of Nigeria.

Silent Commune…

 

The bright light of the Sun
hurt his sunken eyes
even as his pupils fought
to adjust to such ordinariness
which was naked exposure

He felt nothing
no sense of elation
no sense of release
in fact a sense of dread
for he knew not where to begin.

Twenty-two years gone.
Committed for felony
he failed to commit
but criminal justice said it was
and so it has been.

Solitude became his companion
for that length of time
in a cell of total isolation
a short hard crib for a bed
four closing walls as his closest friends.

He clutches his head
for he knows nowhere to go.
He prefers to return
to the silence of his cell
where he communed in himself.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Solitude, The Daily Post Prompt

Image credit: Pixabay

 

The Last Confessions…Friday fiction in five sentences.

Odette’s body shook uncontrollably as she blindly read and re-read the note; a dying man’s last confessions and her tears brimmed over.

She had always known and believed that Joshua was innocent, but no one else believed him and justice jailed him on circumstantial evidence.

They had been too poor to hire a good lawyer and had to rely on the States miserable representation, which had been a pitiful fulfillment of obligation.

Now this! A note exonerating her husband after so many years of misery and when it was too late, since Joshua died in prison, a broken man.

In a desperate need to take a long walk, she left the note on the old wooden table, picked up her shawl and stepped out into the bitter-cold.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha