Who could have thought that a measly N60 would be
responsible for the death of a brother in the hands of no other person than his
own blood brother, the son of his father? Why would a sibling turn against his own
brother? Why? These and others were the questions the villagers of Erua, a
rustic village in Edo State were trying to find answers to on that fateful day
in 1994.
It was almost midnight in Erua. Most of the
villagers had gone to bed. Being a Monday, the first day of the week, the day
had been hectic for many of them. Those who were not asleep were on the verge
of slipping off to dreamland. Except for the chirping of crickets and occasional
howls of stray dogs, the entire village was ensconced in silence and darkness.
There was nothing in the air to suggest that something ominous was about to
happen.
Suddenly, the peace of the midnight was shattered
by the scream of Pa Uwagboe. Ordinarily, crying in the midnight is strange.
What was stranger in this case was the
fact that the person crying was a man, not only a man, a father and in fact a grandfather. What could make an elderly man, a grandfather
to be crying at that time of the night? Those asleep must have thought it was a
dream, a nightmare. Yet the crying continued. “My N60! SIXTY NAIRA!” The Old
man muttered as he frantically searched the nooks and crannies of his house.
Alas, the N60 had developed wings. It had simply
vanished. Who could have done this dastardly act? Stealing from an old man? All
the members of the extended family were in a quandary. They all joined the old
man in looking for the money in the house. While some checked under the mat, others
lifted chairs up; perhaps it fell into the crevice of a chair. Cooking
utensils, books and every conceivable object were ransacked. There was no trace
of N10 not to talk of N60.
“My S-I-X-T-Y-N-A-I-R-A!” Pa Uwagboe muttered
again for the umpteenth time.
“Papa,” Asha Uwagboe, a son of the old man called
his father, “It is late and everywhere is dark. Let’s wait till tomorrow and we
can all search for the missing money in broad day light.”
It was then that Asha remarked that Frank Uwagboe,
his brother, must be somehow connected with the missing N60. On hearing this,
Frank was said to have sworn to kill Asha that same night. Upon hearing the
threat of death, Asha ran indoor with his immediate family, bolting and
barricading the door from inside. Asha, his wife, Patient; Asha’s son, Monday
and his own wife, Stella, the four of them cowered together, praying for a
miracle to happen.
Gbam!, Gbam!!, Gbam!!! It was the sound of
cutlass, demolishing the wooden door. Trapped in the room-and-parlour
apartment, Asha grabbed a knife to defend himself and his family. Gbam!!! In a
twinkle of an eye, the door gave way and in marched Frank, cutlass dangling
dangerously in his hand like the sword of Damocles.
“Please, in the name of God, forgive and forget,
please, abeg”. The four of them chorused, pleading for mercy, from the raving
rage before them. Time stood still, brother against brother, blood frothing
like foam. In the distant, an owl cried mournfully. Asha looked from his brother’s
machete to his own knife. The equation
was unequalled.
With a stroke, the knife clattered to the floor.
Asha raised up his hand, perhaps to protect his head. In a flash, the cutlass
descended, meeting the raised hand in motion. The sharp metal cut into the soft
flesh, severing both the muscles and the bone. The hand fell, but not to the
floor. It hung on tenaciously with loose skin. Blood spluttered as if from a
broken dam. Asha screamed in agony as pain tore through his whole body. Monday
did not wait. In a jiffy, with the speed of a bullet, he sprinted through the
broken door. Stella appeared not to be stellar as she jumped after her
husband’s son. Patient was not patient enough to observe what happened next.
She ran after her fleeing husband.
Frank gazed at the bleeding crumpled figure. The
dripping machete, newly tainted with fresh blood, hung limply from his hand.
The deed had been done. In that sober moment of clarity, only God knew what
went through his mind.
The neighbours were woken again by the midnight
commotion. Sleepily, they dragged themselves outside, wondering what the uproar
was all about. At the sight of the blood soaked Asha, they became wide-awake
instantly. They carried the bleeding man to a nearby house. A traditional
first-aid was administered, the hand was tied. Monday brought out his
motorcycle and took his father to Ehor Maternity Hospital. From there, Asha was
taken to Suyi Hospital in Benin where he died two days later.
Where was Frank all these time? Frank appeared to
have disappeared into thin air. It was about three years later that he was
sighted at Auchi Motor Park.
On Thursday, August 5, 2004, ten years after the
deed was done, the High Court sitting in Benin held that the prosecution had
proved his case against Frank Uwagboe beyond reasonable doubt. He was
accordingly found guilty as charged. He was sentenced to death by hanging.
Frank appealed both his conviction and sentence to
the Court of Appeal which dismissed the appeal and affirmed the decision of the
trial Court. The final lap of the tortuous race ended at the Supreme Court. The
apex court dismissed Frank’s appeal. His conviction and sentence were upheld.
Frank was to pay the supreme price for his
momentary loss of self-control.
Uhnmmm....
ReplyDeleteMomentary loss of self-control.
Thank you sir.