Tuesday, 9 February 2016

AKOSUA FLOGS CORPORAL FRIMPONG

Corporal Frimpong waves Akosua to a halt at Madina market. ‘Park here!’ He commands, and then directs other vehicles though the traffic lights are functioning. Indeed, on other days the traffic lights just refuse to work. Akosua obliges and parks at the bus stop just behind a faulty Nissan Pickup. Her car, an old grey Datsun looks well kept except for a slight dent at the rear, just below the traffic indicator, and about two inches from the bumper.

The sound from the engine is minimal and light blue smoke swirl into the still air. The ‘C’ number plate is only evidence that the car had been in existence for close to thirty years. Akosua is in her mid thirties. The old horse is a family heritage handed down to her father, who in turn passed it on to her. She has however decided not to pass it on to any of her children but to save it as family relic in their garage.

“Officer, wetin dey happen? Why you stop me na?” she screams to get the Corporal’s attention.

“Na my office i dey oo” he turns around slightly, throws her a defiant look and turns around again to collect the Okada man’s rider’s licence. He opens the middle page and removes a five cedi note which he slots into his back pocket.

Akosua holds her lips loosely and theatrically “Akosua, don’t talk, don’t talk, don’t say anything” She says to herself

“Na only God go bless you. You never go chop gari. My God no go gree sef”  Corporal Frimpong prays while dipping his hand into his back pocket again to ensure the money is secured. “Away” he commands waving his benefactor to ride on. After this, he adjusts his beret and struts leisurely toward Akosua. He rests his arms on the driver side window, which is already wound down, surveys the insides of the car and gives Akosua a cold prolonged stare. She sees mischief and lust in his eyes as his bulky eyeballs settle on her chest.

“Officer?”

“Ye...s, where is your licence?” he says hurriedly knowing he has been caught. She pulls out the licence and car documents from under her seat and hand them over.

“Your extinguishers?”

“Are you that blind” She says in her head, wondering if his eyes were shut when he initially surveyed the insides of her car. Without looking back, Akosua points to the extinguisher affixed at the rear, her eyes continually monitoring his to make sure she observes the lustful gaze of his eyes.

“Car papers?” 

“Car papers?...Officer, you no say u dey waste my time. I spend fifteen minutes for here already. The car papers? how?...” Akosua laughs for close to sixty seconds nonstop interjecting it with sarcastic grins. Officer becomes furious and impatient.

“Shut up there. I say where is your car paper? and you are giving me lectures” Corporal Frimpong interjects boastfully, leaves her side and goes the other way to occupy the passenger seat by her.

“eeii Akosua, don’t talk, don’t talk, don’t say anything” Akosua taps her chest to calm herself. Corporal lets a fake grin and grabs the Porridge and Beans cake on the dashboard. Akosua stares on as he consumes the food in the black polythene bag raving at it like a hungry pig. The sound from his throat and the up down movement of his adam’s apple disgust her. Then, he lets out a loud belch. Akosua’s stomach turns and her inside boils with rage.

“I like your bobby” he hasn’t finished speaking than his right hand touches her left breasts. She slaps it off immediately.

“Foolish man...foolish officer ...how dare you?” Akosua sparks. “If you be man, touch am again like you say see wetin go happen for here today”

Corporal Frimpong, short and stout is shocked. He cannot believe his ears. He may be wrong to have touched her but for a civilian to slap a man in uniforms is unacceptable. Letting the matter end there will signify his defeat. His bloated ego overcomes sound reasoning and his body must simply obey. Corporal Frimpong cannot control himself any longer. ‘If I must, it must be now’ he thought. Akosua, whose face has turned red with rage continue to hurl insults at him.

“Me? Corporal Frimpong?” He grabs her left breast again in protest but only for a split second, Akosua smashes his hand again with applied energy that sends his hand knocking hard into his own face. His beret falls off. He is dazed and his breathe become shorter but heavier. Akosua pushes her door open and steps out ready for a fight.

“You slap an officer of the state? Today, I go show you wetin we call jungle fight.” He threatens and steps out too. Akosua, twice his height and build unbuckles her shoes and firms her bare feet on the floor. A charged crowd form a circle around the two. Corporal throws himself at her with a punch to her tummy. She lets out a cry. The crowd shout in unison against the Corporal. She staggers backwards but regains her stamina quickly. Corporal straightens the turf of his shirt and folds his trouser up to the knee. Buoyed by the first knock, he runs into her again. She steps away slightly leaving her leg in his path. He trips, loses balance and falls to the ground. Akosua pounces on him; her knees get a go at his crotch. He lets out a shriek. The crowd boo him. They enjoy Akosua’s display.

The two trade a few blows on the ground and later get on their feet. Corporal holds his crotch in pains. Akosua run at him, encircle his waist with her arms and release a knee jab into his chin, drawing his blood instantly. The weight of the jab forces him to the ground but he pulls her along. A trouble-thirsty crowd cheer in admiration as Akosua’s body cover the full length of the Corporal.

“‘beat am! finish am! beat am”

Corporal knows that victory is slipping out of his grips. His back is to the ground as Akosua clamps her knee to secure his waist. This prevents him from getting into a position where he can hit her lower pelvic. He tears up her jacket to partly her white underwear. She in turn slaps his face repeatedly, her frame weighing heavily on him. The crowd mock the losing corporal.

“Finish am...finish am” somebody shouts from the crowd.

“make...she...finish...me eh?” Corporal replies through his blood filled nose yet unable to look in the direction of the call. He pummels some blows which are not strong enough to get her off him.

She powers some more punches into his sweaty face till he lets out a shriek like a trapped squirrel. She frees herself from him, allowing him the full diameter of the ground, picks up her jacket and gives the crowd a look as to say ‘thank you’. There is no crowd now but a team of police officers and their vehicle parked just behind hers. The crowd had actually dispersed when the Police Patrol arrived.

Corporal Frimpong and Akosua are handcuffed and put in the back of the vehicle; sitting face to face and sandwiched by police officers. Corporal’s head is bowed in shame. Akosua looks outside confidently as the vehicle speeds off. The Vendors, buyers and Pedestrians give Akosua a standing ovation, clapping and cheering such that it draws laughter off the police officers. They were sent to the regional police headquarters for interrogation. 

The following day, their story makes the newspaper headlines, prominent among them being ‘Macho Woman whips Fake Corporal’

Apparently, Corporal Frimpong is a tailor from Madina who could not stick to sewing church attires only but decided to sew himself a police uniform and station himself strategically to extort money from innocent and offending drivers. Beware of Fake Corporals!!!


Copyright (C) 2016

#thestoryteller
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