As continued from Part 2
Baddy was in the same prison as I. He was a bigwig in the prison. He ran the streets so he had a major influence on the people in the prison. He helped me to my cell and requested the warden to place me in the same cell as his. The wardens feared him as he would still control his boys from inside. Baddy became my cellmate and that was the beginning of my awesome prison life. He taught me everything I needed to know about prison. He taught me how to avoid traps and setbacks set by fellow inmates. He taught me how to identify gangs and crews and much on self defense. I accessed most of what junior prisoners could not and soon I was stamped the name ‘Baddy’s Girl.’
I loved prison, so much that I felt it was the right place to be. I loved it even more when I joined the Christian Union. I became more vibrant when I found an old priest who was strong in the word. He was caring and chose to live his life fully pleasing of the Lord. Upon asking him what’s behind the warm face and a glimmering soul, he told me he chose prison ministry because he was once an inmate. I wondered why life placed good people around me. Maybe it was a way of giving me characters to emulate.
The priest ran a popular Christian magazine. He was also a writer who showcased life transformations through testimonies of prisoners at maximum security prisons. I volunteered to work at the chapel, I used to clean the benches, dust the shelves and arrange books in the library. I would get deep in the word. I would read the Bible more often and got a deeper of understanding of Christ. One Sunday afternoon after the church service ended, I remained seated on a bench reading the Bible and the priest approached me saying,
“You can’t get much of Him, can you? It is so good to have that will to read the word and yearn to get more rooted. But have you ever tried to reciprocate the word?”
“But priest, I am… I am not worthy, there’s blood on my hands, am filth. Am… ”
“Thomas, Moses, Paul.”
The priest never gave me direct answers. He would mention verses in the Bible and leave. He would mention characters from the scripture and walk away.
“But what about them? I know Thomas doubted, Moses felt inadequate because he was a stummerer and Paul used to be… Wait… ”
He looked at me, smiled and walked away. I was a Christian but I felt inadequate. I thought it would take lots of time for God to forgive me. I felt unworthy, broken and I never deserved His grace. I believed I had a greater price to pay. I sat to ponder that evening. I related my life to the doubting Thomas, Moses and Paul. I re-read their stories and wondered what if Paul felt so inadequate and refused the call after prosecuting so many Christians? It was then that Baddy wandered about searching for a piece of paper to roll his weed. His reserve of papers were depleted he then saw my Bible and grabbed it. I rushed to grab it and a scuffle ensued.
“Hey, yo! Cool it down kid. Am just taking the first plain paper that is unwritten. I know how much you value this shit.”
“Don’t call the word of God shit. It is living, sharper than any two double edged sword.”
“Haha, Bible, rip me open, you are indeed sharper than any two double edged sword. You would have saved my life from this concentration.”
I rushed to grab the Bible but he gave me a punch on the face that broke my nose. I lay down helplessly and he opened the book ready to tear it when I jumped forth and wrestled him to the floor. Baddy was a nephilim, he had fingers that looked like fried sausages, lips as thick as fingers and teeth a pig would envy. He was a true definition of a land mammal, a grizzly ready to tear one apart. He was immense, powerful and I was the weakling ready to stand against any malice against the word.
I managed to keep him off the Bible until the guards rushed to give us a beating, one so severe that made me give a howl that would awaken my lost beloved Mary. I was put in solitary confinement, perhaps the saddest thing I thought God allowed to happen. Baddy was back in his cell with another cell mate. In solitary confinement, life was gloom, dark and seemed to trigger seizures. It was scary and was filled with all kinds of imaginations. I couldn’t read the word as the only source of light was a small opening that siphoned oxygen from outside. The room was 6ft tall and 5 and a half feet wide. The makeshift of intertwined iron wires made sleep unbearable. There was no matress but a small dirty rag lay by the corner.
For once my faith dwindled. I hated life more than I could hate my death. I wished I never knew who God was. I asked Him questions He never answered, I asked Him why He never allow me to read His word and why He had forsaken me. I decided to quit on what I had now called the ‘Christianity’ thing. I was ever dehydrated. I drank water once in two days, ate two very tiny portions of what they called meals at very odd hours and never saw the light. These persecutions were so severe and thought that this God I truky worshipped was doing nothing in my life. For once I felt something scrub the other side of my wall. There was someone in the other room.
“Hey, anybody there?”
No one responded.
“Any soul willing to share what happens in hell?” I asked.
“Hell… I can relate to that.” a voice came from the other end.
“Yo. Pal, what is your name? You came today?”
“Haha, boy am not your pal, am your Devil. Am not a small kid like you. Have been here 17 months and I have to stamp it on the wall.”
“Hey Devil, how come you never made a move for the last 3 months? Don’t you scratch, mumble to yourself or make a move?
“The Devil hunts in stealth, he awaits the perfect time to make a move, not when his prey is always praying to some fantasy thing above.”
I was frightened and thought that God had decided to give me away to the devil. That I was officially disowned and was no longer needed in His kingdom.
“What would I be doing in solitary if I were not serving him?” I faintly asked.
“Infant, do not give me that stupid bad boy wannabe attitude. Sometime back you were wailing to your God that He has forsaken you. Today you are acting all nuts saying you serve the devil. What’s your stand?”
These words pierced my heart cutting deep through my internal organs. I felt weird. I had mixed feelings of guilt and fear. Some judgment was consoling with me that I should not be feeling so. I went all grave, dumb, beaten at a battle I started.
“Lad, let me teach you something in life. Be your own man. Have your own stand. That way you will learn how to understand your fate.”
“What do you mean, ‘devil’ ”
“I murdered 99 guys in my lifetime and am just about to murder the 100 before I achieve my target to become the bounty killer. My 99th was this warden who talked shit to me. That was before I was brought to this solitary confinement.”
I was perplexed. I felt more scared than ever. That I was talking to a psycho, a mad man. A serial killer. I for once thought of how God has forsaken me and asked myself why I should not participate in this conversation.
“Mr. Devil, why you talking as if you are the only person who has killed? I may not have killed as many as you have but I will line up should murderers be summoned.”
“There you go lad, I had this game with friends, used to call ourselves, The 3 musketeers, The 3 idiots. Brad killed 13 and was shot in cold blood by the police, Michael killed 27 he too succumbed to the same. I am the last man standing, one more to go and I would have achieved the target. The biggest wish of my two friends is that they would have crowned ‘The Bounty Killer’ so how many have you killed lad?”
I was trembling. Despite the cold in the room, I started sweating but I braved up.
“I have killed 3. One…”
“Shut up, go to sleep. I don’t talk to amateurs.”
I didn’t realize why I was trembling or why I was really in fear given I was giving God a payback. Because He chose to forsake me despite the struggle to please Him despite my motive to want to do His work.
The Devil in the next room always talked to me now that he found that his other devil was next to him. I somehow felt wrong about it but since God had forsaken me and it was time to repay for the things He had done to me. We planned of how we were going to kill another warden. I would pretend to be sick and shout aloud and whenever the warden came over I would hit his cerebulum with the tangled makeshift wires from my bed.
It was a Sunday morning, memories of the priest in church was flashing through my brain and I remembered his words before he died. I remembered how he and Jane saved me on that fateful day. I remembered the jail priest’s words of Paul, Thomas and Moses. I tried as much to keep these thoughts at bay as I had a mission to complete. I shouted to the top of my voice. I yelled in anguish like something was really a miss. There was only one warden on duty on Sunday mornings. He hesitated at first. He asked what the matter was but I never uttered a word. At least 3 wardens came to resolve a matter as we were treated as psychos, beasts who were not supposed to coexist with mankind. But this time round only one warden would come.
I continued yelling and I heard footsteps approaching. I heard a whisper, I thought he mentioned something like Jesus or maybe I heard something I never fathomed. I had placed the tangled wires on my foot awaiting his command to place my hands on the opening so as to chain me. But instead I felt the door being opened.
I took the tangled wires and clutched them in my arms. As soon as the door was opened, the warden was struck with shock. He trembled to his feet and he dropped something down. It was a book maybe a novel that opened facing my side. It was a Bible. Pink highlighter markings decorated its verses. I was shocked, I felt like God was speaking to me. I looked at it and the Book of Proverbs was opened. The chapter 6 verse 16-19 was highlighted that read.
16 There are six things the Lord hates,
seven that are detestable to him:
17 haughty eyes,
a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood,
18 a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil,
19 a false witness who pours out lies
and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.
I struggled not to care, but I was trembling. I realized that the warden was new and it was his first day on the job. He was still trembling but he gained courage to tell me.
“You are not a murderer brother.”
I wanted to say something but I couldn’t. My hands were weak and the tangled wires fell to the ground. My mouth was mute but my eyes spoke. Tears of despondency and guilt drained through my cheeks like gushing waters in bare arid land. I felt broken and guilty than ever. I went forth to hug the warden but he stepped aside making me fall to my knees. I prayed.
“My God, why have you forsaken me? Do you take pride in my weakness? Are you pleased at the sight of my downfall?”
“Do not worry, the LORD will be with you. This book might help. Now go back in and repent. Let me keep those wires so far away.”
I went back in with the Bible clutched in my hands. And felt the warmth of Christ. I went to seek evil. But here I am back with the word in my hands. He locked the door to my cell and as soon as he did that, 5 wardens armed to the tooth rushed in.
“We heard someone yelling here, what was up?”
“Nothing much, just the usual noise from these felons.”
“I understand that this is your first day on this job. Never listen to what these guys say. These people are capital murderers and are full of treachery, even your God cannot help you once they get from those enclosures.”
“Nothing was up just some loud maniac cry.”
I now had a Bible, clutched in my feeble hands as tears dropped down the book making splatters of washed away guilt of attempted murder. I felt that now God had purposed me for life, again. That even though I could not understand what was going in my life, He had a plan. I didn’t know why I felt I was being prepared for something. I took to my knees and shouted to the LORD asking Him to forgive me. Tears flowed down to the ground forming small pools like drops of leaf water in a rainforest.
I talked to the ‘Devil’ but he said nothing back. He gave an evil laugh which reminded of what the devil does when he is finished with you. I read the word like never before. Though the cell was pitch dark, I managed to scroll my eyes through the verses with no dificulty. I sang worship songs and prayed aloud without minding what the ‘Devil’ would think orsay of me. Days crawled like a tortoise on a lettuce bountiful ground. I never knew of the present month or date. On one particular day, we were all sommoned to be interviewed by some guys from a certain organization. They fully explained themselves to being a human rights NGO and they were there to advocate the rights or prisoners. They first told me that I was in the solitary on unconstitutional grounds and I could even sue the prison for that. They told me that the intensity of my crime did not warrant my current state.
I really thanked God that He came through after I decided without fear to worship wholly and offer myself to Him. I told the NGO guys that I will let that pass I would forgive them. They told me of the compensation I would get and all other benefits but I declined. I got out of solitary that same day. As I walked from the solitary area to my new cell, I felt it again, the breath of freedom, the sweet breath of a freed soul, the breath of home.
I was taken to the new cell, I carried my Bible with me. I was in the new cell with a new kid. He had great fear for me having heard stories of me being in solitary and close to the baddest guy in prison, Baddy. I assured him that everything was going to be okay. The next day was weird, everyone seemed to distance themselves from me. It was awkward that Baddy himself walked away in fear when I reached to him.
“You are the Crow’s son right?” A fellow prisoner shouted out loud.
I now understood why other prisoners treated me like so. Shortly after, I was matched to the visitors room and was informed that someone had come to see me. I sat next the glass window expecting to see Jenny. I had missed her and in anticipation I held the dialer to my ears. What I saw next made me put it down. My father was sitting opposite me. My chest felt this burning pain and I was short of breath. I looked at my hands as painful trajectories of dark veins scattered their way to feed my heart of what is to be the greatest feeling of anger in my entire life.
‘How dare he show his evil self here?’ I thought.
I then remembered what the Bible said about forgiveness. I remembered of how this evil man banished me from his house and I told God no. This time round I will have to knowingly sin, I will have to be rigid and cold at heart and not forgive this evil man. I stormed out. Shortly after, I got tackled to the floor and close to seven guards chained me up and got me into an interrogation room. They then chained me to a chair. After a short while, my father appeared and said,
“Son, I know you hate me and listening to me is the last thing you ever want.”
I looked at him blankly still raging in mad and fury.
“Let me get you out of this filthy place. Let me help you. I know am responsible for all your misfortunes but wave this shame off our family. Let’s go home now!”
I smiled, I gained courage to speak despite my bitterness.
“Which home, do I have a home? You have a mansion but that doesn’t make it a home. You should try it here, it is fantastic. Better than all your mansions.”
He thought I was just being sarcastic. He smiled and told me
“I heard they put you in solitary that’s why am having them fired and spend a month each in the same solitary. I told you you are a son of a king.”
“I am not your son. I am a child of the most high God who made the heavens and the earth. The God you don’t believe in.”
“The God of the poor? Tommy? How do you stoop so low? How is that God of yours helping you in any way?”
“Satisfaction, peace, happiness and all that you do not have. He got me out of the solitary.”
“You bastard, I had to tell that NGO to get you out as soon. You forgot that I run this country?”
“You might have instructed them to get me out but not with peace, not at the right time, not with the gifts and lessons I learnt.”
“Please cut me the crap of peace, gifts and lessons and let’s go home. Save me this embarrassment.”
“Dad am home. Save me the embarrasment, and let me live my life. I ceased being your son the day you banished me from your sight.”
He gave me a painful kick in my balls and a punch on my face that made me fall to the ground nosebleeding.