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
