Dr Fixit (4521 - 4530)
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The crowd moved
back and the figure
of a woman,
tall and of robust stature,
was seen
leaning on the protector
of a louvred
window and the proprietor
of the cyber
cafe paraded the thief
towards her.
Their greetings were brief.
The cafe
owner asked the woman:
‘Please, ma.
Do you know this young man?’
She nodded
and said: ‘He’s my son.’
‘We’re here
for something bad he’d done.
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‘A phone our
customer charged and forgot
he took with
him instead of a report
he could’ve
lodged and kept in our custody
the item. The
owner returned and visibly
fumed in my
shop over the stolen phone
and as such
degrading acts aren’t known
where I
operate, I decided to the root
of the
matter to get and marched my boots
to someone
who the crime fast could uncover.
The ukang initiated brought us to this
shelter
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‘and the
phone in your son’s bag was found.
As custom
demands, there is an amount
the native
doctor asks for his services
and if not
met forthwith, the angry blazes
of the mob
here could be poured on him
and these
we’ve all along held back with vim.’
‘What’s the
amount?’ the woman weakly
did ask. The
cafe owner said stiffly
all the
native doctor had recited.
When he was
done, the woman responded:
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‘It’s a bad
child who brings reproach
on his
family but my approach
would be to
settle this right here and now
and warn him
for the last time that his renown
for humiliating himself and us
since
joining his gang quite unserious
grates my
nerves. This is the last time
I would bail
him out of any crime
and this
crowd remains my witness.
His bad ways
henceforth he must address.’
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The woman left
the window and soon again
did appear
and above a glass pane
passed wads
of notes to the cafe owner.
Done
counting, the man thanked the mother
of the
derailing young man and turned around
to caution
him: ‘My friend, the ground
and all
those with us here bear witness
that your
mother openly frowns at the disgrace
that you and
your bad company bring upon
yourselves
and your families. The gun
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‘is next for
the man who plays with the knife
and jail is
home for he who loves strife.
Be warned.’
As the crowd did murmur
and
disperse, of course the rumour
would spread
from one cranny of the town
to the other
with addenda to make you frown
or smile as
every talebearer was wont.
Nearly
reaching the street we heard the grunt
and blabber
of a man asking for the whereabouts
of his
motorcycle. It seemed a mahout
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had sat on
it and rode off. The tale thickened.
A thief
seeing another thief being threatened
thinks it's a bad day for the first stealing.
You don’t
watch such a scene with mouth gaping
or desperate
flies would jump into it.
Having the
last laugh was another bandit.
‘My brother,
we just saw the native doctor
and what he
did so ask the proprietor
of the cafe
to help you contact him
and I assure
you, your lost bike he’d redeem,’
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a believer
in tradition did opine
to the
motorcyclist who did wail and whine.
Though he
complained at first about the fee
but then
buying a new bike wasn’t a pee.
He begged
another cyclist to help him chase
the native
doctor or cafe owner who did race
off on
motorcycles some minutes ago.
Our
unwitting carrier without hullabaloo
after
witnessing with his whole being
the mystery
spun by a native doctor’s string
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of
abracadabra was eager to see
and hear
more so he took a bike with a plea
he should
race back to the business centre.
‘Ukang,’ my
aide repeatedly did mutter
to himself
as a new term he tried to commit
to memory but
quite swift
I intervened
to let him know the term
wasn’t English
but it wasn’t out of game
to borrow the
word as one quite apt
I couldn’t find
to describe the art
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whereby you uncover
with a mojo a theft.
‘The English
Language is bereft
of an apt word
if the practice is not known
to the natives
around the English throne.
So it’s not unusual
for them to borrow
the word about
the new reality and sow
this as a new
seed in their lexicon.
It’s incumbent
upon you to coin
a new word for
a new concept or reality
if there’s no word in the dictionary
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