Everyone said the same thing. I looked like Jim. Jim looked like me; we both looked alike.
Our neighbors said so, my siblings said so, my mother said so, and I confirmed it everyday in front of a mirror. From his facial features, down to his stature and height, I had the same thing. The only difference between I and Jim was that he was a year older, his voice was bit deeper than mine, and he had no mother. She had died when giving birth to him and his father had run away too. Well, that was several years back. Now he lived with his uncle who loved to drink and live promiscuously, and that’s how Jim became rascally. Anyway, we weren’t close friends; my mother told me not to associate with him due to his bad behaviors. She didn’t want me to be ‘Infected’ according to her.
To her, I was a ‘GOOD BOY’; no stress, no pressure, I didn’t take what wasn’t mine; I didn’t provoke anyone to anger; I didn’t talk back to my parents or the elders outside, I was just there; a good boy with no blemish. But Jim was the opposite of everything. A street boy; a warrior; a hyperactive fellow. He always laughed at me for my naivety and told me how he couldn’t wait for me to grow up and start acting manly.
As young as we were; about 16yrs, Jim was already partying and going to clubs with the boys on the streets. Boys that would never let him rest, or was it him that would never let them rest? They were always everywhere; either at a bar, or on the field, or by the roadside fighting with other several guys or being chased by the police. Jim never rested, but UNFORTUNATELY, some people thought it was me doing all those.
Of course whenever I walked across the street to buy some eggs for my mother or to deliver a message to one of her distant friends, some people would make remarks such as “this trouble maker is here again”. Sometimes I would protest my innocence “I’m not Jim, I’m Jake” I’d say or I’d ignore them and mind my business.
Anyway, since we looked alike, it was hard differentiating between the two of us. Trust me; it wasn’t easy. Sadly, I was always falling victim to whatever punishment was meant for him. Terrible! Very terrible.
One day after school, I visited Jim at his uncle’s place. He had invited to come and see his place. “You’ve never been to my place before, you should come today” he asked. I only smiled and politely said No; remembering what my mother told me about keeping my distance from him. “Ah common, Jake, I’m having a little get together with two other friends and you wouldn’t want to miss it”
“No Jim” I declined.
“Jake there no alcohol, it’s just fruit juice and dancing all through” he persisted.
After much persuasion and assurance, I went with him. I planned to stay for few minutes and then run back home, but the fruit juice was mixed with alcohol and I didn’t know. So after drinking it, I became so tipsy and fell asleep on the couch in the sitting room. After about two hours his uncle Mr Gbenga, came back and descended on me.
“Are you stupid?!” He said as he gave me the first slap “I told you to clean up the house because Laura is visiting and you didn’t do it” he shouted as he gave me another slap.
I only stood and held my cheeks in pain as I shifted my gaze from him to the lady who stood by his side. His eyes were red with fury, and even if I wanted to explain to him that I wasn’t Jim, he wouldn’t listen to me.
“Come and kneel down here Jim, I will deal with you today!” He said to me as he unhooked the belt which held his trousers firmly to his waist.
“Sorry sir, I’m Jake, I’m not Jim” I voiced out with the last courage in me.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“I’m Jake, Jim is inside” I replied
“Jim! Jim! Jim! Where are you?!” He shouted, and then Jim ran out from the bedroom rubbing his eyes; he had fallen asleep too.
Mr Gbenga looked at me, then looked at Jim and looked at me again.
“Oh, sorry, forgive me for hitting you” he said as he drew me closer to himself. A strong stench grazed through my nostrils. His breath smelt of alcohol and his clothes almost suffocated me. I broke free immediately.
“Hey darling, are you hurt?” The lady beside him asked me softly as she drew me to herself. “You both look alike” she chuckled.
“Exactly, I would have dealt with the wrong person this afternoon” he said pointing at me with sympathy. He turned to face Jim, and chased him inside one of the rooms. While I was in the sitting room with the lady, I could hear Jim screaming as he received the beating of his life.
The lady kissed me on my forehead and told me to go home. “You shouldn’t be here, fine boy” she said and bade me farewell. That kiss was deceptive! Very deceptive!
That was the last I heard from Jim. When I asked about him few days later, one of the boys on the street told me that he had suddenly traveled. “Oh I even thought you were Jim” he said to me.
“No I’m not” I smiled.
“What’s funny?” He fired back
“What? What do you mean?” He asked, grabbing me by the neck.
“You fool, do you think you’ll go Scot free?”
“Fool? Scot free? Me? What did I do? I’m Jake, I’m not Jim!!! I protested” and then some other boys came to my rescue.
“Titan let Jim be; no matter what he has done to us; he is forgiven” one of the boys said.
“No, Jim can’t be forgiven; he broke the rules. The street rules and he must pay for it”
“But I’m not Jim, I’m Jake!” I shouted out as I protested my innocence.
Titan ignored me and tightened his grip on my shirt. “Seeing you reminds me of that fool” he said as he dealt me blows.
“I’m not Jim, I’m Jake! Please I’m Jake” and the boys ran to help me out.
“Titan let him be, he isn’t Jim” one of them said.
I knew I was lucky that day. I was lucky they had no guns with them. It was part of our daily lives in such hostile city.
That night my mother cleaned my bruises and gave me a stern lecture. “You should be careful with the places you go to; the city isn’t safe, and Jim is notorious already, so, after school, come back straight to the house and try to remain indoors as much as you can” she said.
And that’s what I did for the next few months. I listened to her advice; went to school; came back home; remained indoors. Everything seemed to be going fine until the day she sent me to get something for her across the street.
As I stood by the road, getting ready to cross over to the other side, I saw a mob, an angry mob coming my way. I wondered who must have annoyed them that day. “He must be killed! He must be Killed!” They chanted and I wondered who it was. In this hostile and razz city, the police didn’t care; they never cared. So we were the ones governing ourselves. If the youths deemed it fit to execute someone, then such verdict would stand.
I quickly crossed to the other side of the road before they arrived; I didn’t want to stand close to angry mob. I preferred to watch them from a distance and that was the mistake I made. I should have just kept moving without stopping to watch.
“That’s the fool!” Someone pointed towards my direction. They all stopped and looked at me. From where they stood on the other side of the road, they could catch a clear glimpse of me.
“That’s him! Yes! That Jim!” Another one shouted and they all ran towards me. Some held rubber tyres of cars, others held burning lanterns in their hands, others held cans of gasoline. And so they came after me with full force.
There was no time for my usual explanation of “please I am Jake not Jim” so I ran, with my two legs touching the back of my head.
“Mummy o! Help me!” I shouted as I drifted, but they caught up with me, right as I was about to run into my house. Someone grabbed me by the cloth and pushed me to the floor.
“You fool! Today nemesis has caught up with you!” One of them said as they put a tyre round my neck. Another person brought out the can of gasoline and struggled to open the cover which was well tightened.
But my mum ran out of the house when she heard the noise.
“What is happening!!!???? What is happening ooooo!!!!” She asked
On seeing her, I screamed “mummy help me o! They want to burn me!!” She ran to where I was, and began struggling with whoever wanted to pour the can of gasoline on me.
“What are you doing to my son ehn?!!” She shouted and shouted. Trust my mum; anywhere anytime, she was ready to fight like a tiger.
“He must die! Jim must die!”
“I’m Jake! I’m not Jim!!!” I shouted
“He’s Jake my son! He’s not Jim!!” She shouted as she struggled with him and pushed him to the floor. “Leave my son alone!”
“Titan retreat! retreat!” Someone from the crowd yelled at the guy who held the can of gasoline in his hands. I could remember where and when I’d heard the name ‘Titan’. It was the same guy who had grabbed me by the neck and dealt me blows few months ago.
“We’re sorry ma” that was all they said and left I and my devastated mother. We didn’t know what had happened and why they suddenly changed their mind. Anyway it was a sigh of relief. At least I want dead. I hadn’t been sent to my maker yet.
That night I learnt that Jim had come back to town from wherever he had gone to. You won’t believe that this boy called Jim immediately went to steal. To steal! Jim went to steal!
So, when the owner of the jewelries (whom he went to steal from) described him to the street boys, they knew exactly whom it was.
I was so lucky that he had been traced to his usual hideout, few minutes before I was to be burned to death.
The next morning I heard that he had been lynched.