The Mercedes was a beautiful machine, Isma walked round checking it out. The AMG GT they call it, a testament to German efficiency. The white paint glistened in the sun, the red upholstery complimenting it.
Isma turned to see a man walking towards him. He then knew that that was the owner, for he could see on his face that he was pleased with Isma’s look of admiration.
The man was an Egyptian of gigantic size. Blood of the ancients who had built the pyramids, indeed he was from Aswan. He climbed into his machine and pressed the starter, at which point the engine came alive. He surged away with hardly a purr from his exhaust. Isma watched as he disappeared up the hills of Al Hadabal Wosta. This was the first time Isma had seen Mohammad Kadri in person, though he knew him almost as well as he knew himself. The Nigerian DSS (Department of State Security) have been keeping tabs on him. Kadri was by far the largest arms supplier to our black market. General Buratai had personally assigned Isma to this mission. He had been to Syria and Libya in search of him. A great deal of resources had been expended looking for this man, he ‘must be eliminated’ President Buhari had said. Isma then climbed into his xxxxx and followed in leisurely pursuit.
Traffic was too slow and Kadri was stuck behind an old and obviously neglected family Saloon. Kadri was intent on teaching the car in front of him a lesson. He was a spectacular driver, albeit and impatient one, his quick temper easily turned to road rage. As the light turned green he revved his engine hard and pulled out to the right of the intersection, accelerating brutally, giving the driver of the saloon a look of disdain as he zoomed past him.
Kadri did not notice Isma following behind him, all he was seeing was traffic in front of him as he constantly weaved in and out of it. He had drove through a petrol station to cut through traffic, shooting up gravel and dry skidded onto the road. The speedometer hovered in the mid 200kmph range on the crown of the road. Kadri bent over the wheel, begging for a chance to get past one of those 18 wheeler Trailers but traffic was giving no opportunity for it. A small gap presented itself and Kadri tapped the car into third and went for it. He was giving Isma a difficult time keeping up. He got past the trailer and the road was empty.
Isma was touching 240 behind Kadri when he saw a flash of lights behind him. The appearance of a third car in this race was unbelievable. Only a professional race driver or a desperate man could have kept up with them. He pulled to the left and watched as a Ferrari passed him by with a good extra 10 kmph… To be continued
A few weeks ago we woke up to find the police all around us. Turns out they found a body just a few blocks from our house. A young girl brutally murdered. The kids then stopped playing without the sun.
Just when the community was beginning to get over it all, another body was found. This time if was a tricycle driver. His neck had been opened with a clean cut. Obviously from behind. It was frighteningly quick. Then the teenagers started avoiding then sun too, the responsible ones that is. Teenagers are rebellious by nature.
The fathers added extra bolts to the doors and windows were always closed but that only added fo the mystery when an elderly woman was savagely mueed as she slept in her bed. This time a sledgehammer was used. So brutal was tgw murder that many family members will forever be haunted be the sight of blood splattered across the walls, her face, the pillow and her brain matter were indistinguishable.
It was now clear that there was a serial killer. The young men formed neighborhood watches and guns were bought. Suspicion fell upon the Nigerians. The aliens, the rowdy disorderly young men. We. Know we were being watched but we feared not for fear was for the guilty.
Eventually we were exonerated by nothing more than our daily routine.
A kid was strangled with her own ….. …
These words you are about to read
Are the claws that strangle my tortured soul
I waltz recklessly into a street fight
The arrows have pierced you deep within
And your soul is bleeding
I can taste the warmth of life, blood on my lips
That leaves you cold and breathless
Another dip in Oblivion’s deep
The blackness holds a sooting warmth
A welcome respite from the cold
The hateful chill that marks the limbo of indifference
The black has taken over my heart
Spreading gently, one cell at a time
Till it engulfs my entire body
Can you not see it ebb from my pen into these sheets?
I plug my earphones in to drown out my misery
Watching the devil dance as an angel sings out of tune
I have taken an unwelcome detour
The Cemetery gates are left ajar
I take a dusty seat on the broken pavement
Pull out my flute and blow with the wind
The undead rise to these broken tunes
And make their way towards the hidden runes
I feel like Scar, watching the fear in Mufasa’s eyes
As i fling you head first off this cliff
It is not hate that fuels my deed, no
Something more serene does the trick
The earth spins anti-clockwise, why?
A man’s life is fading as another pulls the trigger
In a word of mad recklessness
I find peace and a piece writing in a darkened room.
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits
I feel like I’m surrounded by a wall of bricks
Every time I go to get up I just fall in pits
My life’s like one great big ball of shit!
If I could just put it all into all I spit
Instead of always trying swallow it
Instead of starin’ at this wall and shit
While I sit writer’s block, sick of all this shit
Can’t call it shit!
All I know is I’m about to hit the wall
If I have to see another one of Mom’s alcoholic fits
This is it, last straw
That’s all, that’s it
I ain’t dealin’ with another fuckin’ politic
I’m like a skillet bubblin’, until it filters up
I’m about to kill it, I can feel it buildin’ up
Blow this building up, I’ve been sealed enough
My cup runneth over, I done filled it up
The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts!
You think all I do is stand here and feel my nuts
Well, Imma show you what, You gon’ feel my rush
If you don’t feel it, then it must be too real to touch
Build the dutch, I’m about to tear shit up
Goosebumps, Yeah Imma make your hair sit up, Yeah sit up
Imma tell you who I be, Imma make you hate me, Cause you ain’t me
You wait, it ain’t too late to finally see
What you close-minded fucks were too blind to see
Whoever finds me is gonna get a finder’s fee
Out this world, ain’t no one out their mind as me
You need peace of mind? Here’s a piece of mine
All I need’s a line, but Sometimes I don’t always find the words to rhyme
To express how I’m really feeling at that time, Yes
Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes
It’s just sometimes it’s always me
How dark can these hallways be
The clock strikes midnight
1, 2, then half past 3
This half-assed rhyme, with this half-assed piece of paper
I’m desperate at my desk
If I could just get the rest of this shit off my chest, Again
Stuck in this slump, Can’t think of nothing
Fuck, I’m stumped, Oh, Wait, Here comes something, nope!
It’s not good enough, scribble it out
New pad, crinkle it up, and throw this shit out
I’m fizzling out, thought I figured it out
Ball’s in my court but I’m scared to dribble it out
I’m afraid, but why am I afraid? Why am I a slave
To this Trade ? Cyanide I spit to the grave
Real enough to rile you up, Want me to flip it? I can rip it
any style you want.
Imma switch hitter bitch Jimmy Smith ain’t a quitter
Imma sit here till I get enough of me to finally hit a fucking boiling point
Put some oil in your joints, Flip the coin, Bitch come get destroyed
An MC’s worst dream, I make them tensed, they hate me
See me and shake like a chain-link fence
By the looks of ’em you would swear that Jaws was coming
By the screams of ’em you would swear I’m sawing someone
By the way they runnin’, you would swear the law was coming
It’s now or never, and tonight it’s all or nothing
Momma, Jimmy keeps leaving on us, He said he’d be back
He pinky promised, I don’t think he’s honest
I’ll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock
Fuck this clock! Imma make them Eat this watch
Don’t believe me Watch! Imma win this race
And Imma come back and rub my shit in your face, Bitch!
I found my niche, You gon’ hear my voice
‘Til you’re SICK of it, you ain’t gonna have a choice
If I gotta scream ’til I have half a lung
If I have half a chance, I’ll grab it, Rabbit Run!
Instead of it to be them, let it be me. Since I will die inevitably then let it be, let it be said when I am dead. Some other was free, some other was fed. Some other not me was able to see that as long as we live in a country where no one is safe, no one is safe. We only evade. Try to escape the imminent doom but closer the day looms. Some other should weep. Some other should keep the memory of the way that I died and maybe change some other can try. At least we can lie. At least we can hope. At least we can say Tomorrow is better it wont be today. Some other can pray. Some other can fight. The wrong done to me some other can write, then maybe my death can save another life. For that I would gladly give another life. Let it be so some other can live, let it be birth.
If I’m hurt, as I pass let it be last, let it be first.
If I die alone, let it be more Tha dying alone.
May Allah help us all.
Everything will be alright in the end. If it’s not alright then it’s not yet the end.