Muheez Olawale

This story begins after the deed is done. Smoke clouds the afternoon sky. A naked body dances to the crackles of flame till stasis puffs away its final breath in defeat. The woman who made the first cry of “ole¹” watches from a corner, tears in her eyes. She doesn’t know if it is the smoke or the guilt. A horde of street urchins disperses into backstreets, tossing cudgels in the gutter. An empty barrel of petrol cools on the sidewalk. A toddler picks up a matchbox and shows her mother the way to hell. A man tells his son that all thieves shall char, in this life or the one after. Sirens wail louder. The street is deserted, save a lost soul seeking peace on its way home.