THE BATTLE
The well-known commercial motorcycle rider was compelled to take up the hospital expenses incurred in the treatment of Farouk’s dislocated bone.
After being discharged from the physiotherapy ward, he took Farouk for clinics once every week for a couple of months. Farouk limped with the aid of a walking stick, but with time, he got better.
MEET OLUAYE
The hood got tougher especially with the presence of a certain beggar called Yusuf (A.K.A Oluaye Onibara). Oluaye was the beggars’ nightmare. He was totally without scruples and looked much healthy for a beggar. He needn’t walk aimlessly under the sun begging for money because he got some sort of ‘tithe’ from other beggars’ sweat. All he needed was the gut to bully little beggars and since being well-fed meant having the strength to fight, his ability to oppress grew stronger by the day. The more the number of little beggars he oppressed, the fatter and stronger he got. It’s kind of a cycle.
Oluaye decided to pounce on Farouk one particular day. But Farouk demurred. He detested that sort of tyranny. He likened the whole situation to that of a wolf who killed a zebra but, then, a bigoted lion suddenly appeared and chased the wolf away, eating his hard-earned dinner. It’s just unfair.
Oluaye approached him to force some money out of his pocket. But each time he stretched out his hands to grab Farouk’s pocket, Farouk moved backwards, barking the words “Free me joor” at Oluaye.
The struggle kept intensifying and at a time, the duo started attracting a progressively growing number of audience. What the heck is going to happen this time? It’s the first time Oluaye had struggled this much with a fellow beggar in a long while. Will the lanky and wafer-thin Farouk succeed in holding his shit against this scum-bag?
After so much effort to grab the cash to no avail, with a single whack of the hand, big Oluaye hurled tiny Farouk to the ground. But almost immediately, Farouk was up on his feet. He was not planning to stay on his feet all day, for he charged at Oluaye like an infuriated bull determined to wreak havoc.
The poor creature only succeeded in charging towards Oluaye’s clenched fist and with a well-executed jab, Farouk was guided back to whence he came charging from, reminiscent of an oncoming tennis ball smashed back, and hard, with a racket. Farouk held his bloodied jaw and careful picked out the tooth fragment in his mouth. He also noticed another tooth on the ground. Two teeth gone.
Oluaye now had a smirk plastered across his face. But apparently, he assumed victory too soon. Seeing the blood on his face gave Farouk the necessary adrenaline boost. He charged again towards Oluaye, but this time rather carefully. Oluaye threw another punch, but like the tongue skillfully dodges the grinding teeth of a munching mouth, Farouk went below the blow, wasting the punch to the air.
Just then, he grabbed Oluaye by the waist attempting to put him to the ground. Several elbow thrusts to the back, however, sent Farouk to his knees. In an attempt to get up, he accidently slipped his right hand into a hole in Oluaye’s trousers and grabbed the cylindrical pound of flesh between his legs. To successful get himself up, Farouk had to pull his catch down. The pull was evidently too abrupt; it sent shock waves of pain and horror to Olu’s brain and sudden weakness to his body. Farouk noticed his enemy’s Achilles’ heels; he grabbed harder, he pulled more ferociously and he squeezed more tightly.
Oluaye screamed, he wailed, he screeched, he did everything to tell the onlookers how he was going to die if help did not come. But his screams only worked up the street audience into a frenzy; they let out very violent cries. Most noticeable among the myriad voices was that of a frail old man who seemed to shout “tear the thing, remove am comot, tear am, tear am.”
Oluaye’s saving grace was the arrival of two policemen. As the men approached the scene with clubs in their hands, the audience, which consisted mostly of hoodlums and beggars, cleared off rather frenetically. Farouk let go of his grab and also joined the disarray; he disappeared into the escaping crowd. Oluaye must have had wears and tears in his organ; the yellow-colored piece of clothing he wore as trousers was soaked with blood and had turned orange. The police noticed it and he was taken to the state hospital for treatment to save his life.