h2>Dating : I beat up two armed robbers
May 2013. True story.
Friday evenings are usually for Church. That’s the way it’s been since I was a kid. This one is no exception. Dad and Mum aren’t around so it’s just myself and my brother. That’s supposed to be exciting right? Nah, not us. We’d rather just lock the doors, watch some movies and sleep.
We’re not even halfway through the movie and I see my brother doze off. I just take my cue and decide to take a stroll. You already know how those midnight strolls are therapeutic. I’m having an emotional night by this time so I put on my emotional playlist and set off. Life’s good. The air is clean. I’m singing along to Celine Dion and Westlife while I walk through the streets.
The entire neighborhood is quiet. Looks like most people are either sleeping or out partying, and there aren’t any clubs in our part of town so that means they’ve gone to the other side of town. By this time, I’ve screamed about 10 songs already and I’m at the junction that branches into the town’s main road, so I decide to return, plus it was almost 11.
A block away from home, I get a call. Naa. Naa is one of my best friends but I’m so deep in my emotions right now which means I’m not ready to talk to Naa. On the other hand, if I don’t pick, I’ll spend my whole Saturday morning apologizing. In the end, I pick up but not without screaming out a loud “argh” before.
3 minutes into the call, I feel a huge slap on my right ear from the back. The pain is to an exponent of 3 because I had my earphones in. Initially, I’m thinking my friends in the neighborhood are playing a prank on me but you know, pain quickens your speed of thought so I do the quick maths and Your Honor, I can absolutely confirm that no friend of mine would give me that heavy slap at 11 p.m. Meanwhile, Naa is still on the phone.
“Fa phone no bra” (Bring the phone). This is where I get the hint.
I am being robbed. I turn to see who I’m dealing with, in the dark. They are two. Two masked armed robbers. These guys look huge too. I can’t see them properly to mark out their physicalities because there is no street light, but we won’t discuss that until it’s an election year.
While one searches me, the other holds a cutlass and a pistol pointed at me. If you’ve never been in a robbery, this is where you ask yourself (and/or God) whether you are going to die. The ‘searcher’ takes my brand new Samsung flagship Galaxy S4 (Bro! That is the love of my life), my 2 cedi note and coins, my earphones, rubber bands on my wrist and wristbands I had kept for almost 3 years because I got them from my crush at Interco.
Yes. I’m also thinking why the fuck they would take wristbands? What are you going to do with them exactly? And, NO, I don’t ask those questions out loud.
“HwƐ w’anim na kɔ. Ɛndane w’anim” (March forward and don’t look back). That’s what I hear when they are finished with me. And like the obedient child I’ve always been, I walk forward and don’t turn back, not even once until I’m in front of my house. Right in front of the house where I got robbed are the neighborhood’s noisiest dogs. They literally bark at everything and everyone. But these adorable dearies did not bark a single time while I had the pistol pointed at my head. Guess who’s made enemies for life?
I get home to my bro still sleeping peacefully. Like, this guy has no idea. I wake him up and tell him everything that has happened, and after watching me shake like a crackhead for a couple of minutes, decided we should call our parents and inform them. I always knew he was mad. Instead of going back with me to whoop some robbers’ asses, he wants to call my mom so she could put me on blast.
The thing is… My dad always told me not to go on these late-night strolls, and my mum always complained about how I handled the new phone which cost her ONE THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED KUFFOUR DOLLARS. So now we’re on the phone and I can picture their faces. They’re giving me the whole “We’re happy you’re alive” talk but I know my squad and on the other side of the line are two giant smirks. Next morning, we hear a woman who used that road just after I’d passed got her hands slashed because she wouldn’t give them her handbag. Perspective.
“What if, you know, the slap clouded your vision but it wasn’t really a pistol?”, “You really lost a brand new phone because of a girl. I always knew you were an idiot, Gerald”, “You watched yourself get robbed because you are an emotional bastard loool”, “Gerald, your friends think I’m the one who got your phone stolen”.
Anyway, you really weren’t thinking I beat up two armed robbers? Were you? Let’s be serious here, please. This is also why if I’m going to take a stroll with you at night, I should be faster than you and I’ll turn to watch my back every 15 seconds.
