My name is John; Peter and Paul were my two friends. We were poor and jobless, but fortune smiled on us in a xenophobic manner, so to speak.
We heard about the looting of the South African stores in our neighbourhood, and since we were desperate for a means of livelihood, we joined in the fracas. Street guys had stormed the stores. People were carting away goods worth hundreds of thousands of naira.
As Lagos boys, we dived in with the looters. We had to grab whatever we could before the police came. We went to different stores. We had arrived too late; nearly all the shops had been cleaned out. We were desperate. It couldn’t be. On our way coming we had seen a man leaving with a plasma TV, another one was carrying a fire extinguisher – whatever he needed that for. We, too, must not leave empty-handed. There was only one more fire extinguisher hanging from the wall.
READ ALSO: Short Story: The Stone Wall
Then I spotted the travel bag at a corner. It had been kicked around many times by looters during the fracas. It was dirty and dusty. Having nothing else to search for, I went to this bag and unzipped it.
I was greeted with bales of dollars. I immediately called my friends. I had found the solution to our problems. We would never be poor again.
Then we heard the sound of approaching sirens. The police! We must not be caught here. We had to leave very fast.
I didn’t see the blow coming. Peter had hit me at the back of the head with the fire extinguisher, and Paul had grabbed the bag.
I watched helplessly as they escaped, leaving me behind. Before I could rise, armed men in police uniform had entered.
They were coming for me. I was sunk!
