RIGHT ON TIME

chapter 14

TWO DAYS LATER. 

KIRIKIRI MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON, KIRIKIRI, LAGOS STATE. 

'The Man'. That was the name his fellow inmates called him to his face. Behind his back, they called him 'The man who beat his girlfriend to death'. 

The inmates were not bold enough to call him by that full version after he had beaten one of the inmates who tried to pulp. Only the prison warders were able to call him by that full name just to spite him. Even so, they did it with caution, because everyone—although they hated to admit it—feared him. 

None of his fellow inmates knew his real name or anything about him apart from the crime he committed. If anyone did, they never called him by his real name or indicated that they knew anything about him. 

The tall and burly man's bodily physique was so intimidating that he could pass for a bouncer. 

Looking at his height and stature, one might think that he was the leader of the most popular gang in the prison or associated with one, but it was quite the contrary. 

At the moment, other inmates and prison warders hardly glanced his way. He preferred it that way because he also didn't want to associate with anybody. He'd done all the socializing he could do for an entire lifetime prior to his conviction. People stayed away from him, not just because they dreaded him, but because of his unfriendly demeanor. 

'The Man' was currently in Kirikiri maximum security prison, after being sentenced to life imprisonment for involuntary manslaughter. 

According to the law, murder or any form of homicide, except in the case of involuntary manslaughter, if found guilty, would result to a death penalty either by hanging or facing a firing squad. 

The man would always be grateful to the defense lawyer who  defended his case in the court and saved him from hanging. 

Both the prosecuting lawyer and his late girlfriend's family dragged him to court because they wanted him to be found guilty of culpable homicide and sentenced accordingly. Her family wanted vengeance and according to what the prosecuting lawyer argued in front of the judge, it was the only way justice could be served. 

At the beginning of the lawsuit, before they went to trial, The man and his lawyer had tried to negotiate a plea bargain with the prosecuting counsel, but it was immediately thrown out because the family of the deceased wouldn't settle for any plea bargain. 

Truth be told, The Man had beaten his girlfriend, whom he had been cohabiting with for over four years, to death, but he hadn't done it intentionally, contrary to what the prosecuting lawyer was accusing him of doing.

The prosecutor had made his deceased girlfriend look like a harmless angel while portraying him as the devil's incarnate. 

His late girlfriend, whose name was Alex, was the most disrespectful vermin he'd ever come across. A sharp-tongued woman. He was a lazy, careless and short-tempered man who was quick to react in anger at a slight insult or retort. Theirs was a match made in hell. They often quarreled and fought over trivial matters and hurled insults at each other. 

They were too proud to seek help. They should have broken up immediately after seeing that there was no synergy between them, but Alex didn't want to break up because she had invested her everything, body money and sweat, into the relationship, and the man also didn't want to break up because he had nowhere to go and he was too lazy to be independent. 

But their last day together was the day he had beaten her to death. Infuriated by another slight error of his, Alex had given him another insult of his life. He'd threatened her with another break up, but instead of reacting the way he wanted her to—in tears of repentance and submission—she launched into a long harangue and hurled insults at him, his family, his previous, present and future generations. 

What happened next was what he wouldn't be able to describe with words. What he only knew was that he realized himself when it was too late. His girlfriend had died. The police had surrounded his house after being called by a concerned neighbor. And that was how he lost his right to freedom of movement. 

Even though he felt he had nothing to live for again since that day, the prospect of being sentenced to death shook him. His eventual, stepped-down life imprisonment sentence didn't give him peace of mind either. He plodded through the days in prison with a bucketful of regrets. 

Every day he opened his eyes, he ritualized shutting it back tightly, letting out a string of curses under his breath, while hoping all the gods that were offended could strike him dead and save him from this misery. This particular morning was no different. 

Even though a prison environment made it somewhat impossible, he'd contemplated suicide several times, and had even come close to executing his plan. But there was always this restraint he felt. Maybe fear of the unknown, of what awaited him in the next life. Maybe hope that a miracle could offer him freedom. Maybe indifference. He couldn't tell. 

With an annoyed sigh of resignation, he heaved his body up from the prison bed and rubbed his aching temples.

If the prison warders had an hint that he was suicidal, he would be placed under suicide-watch with swift effect. But he couldn't afford to be placed under any observation because he knew he couldn't bear the pressure and feeling of being caged further than that was sure to come with. So, he did his best to mask the demons whispering in his mind.

If he died, he was certain there was no heaven waiting for him, as he had severally heard those religious fanatics scream. 

Hell. That was what he deserved, what he'd earned. But the terror that came with that thought was as frightening as though he'd been there before.

"Ye are judged. Ye are condemned. Ye are doomed..." 

Voices in his head sang everyday. Embracing those voices' verdict was what had turned him into the stone-faced and rock-hearted man that everyone in this prison avoided like a plague.

Sooner or later, he'd go down to the pit and meet the beings that owned the wicked voices. It was inevitable. The only question was 'when?'

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Author's note. . Kirikiri is the biggest prison in west Africa, I visited it once in one of my prison outreaches when I resided in Lagos.

See you in the next chapter. Remember that Jesus loves and cares for you. ☺️🤗🤗❤️