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THREE

Jazzlyn Pius was a woman.

She was a woman before she was anything else. Anything that society thought her to be. A nuisance, incorrigible. An unrepentant unbeliever. A sinner.

Far beyond the roads and the facades of Abule-Egba residents, were people that judged for a living. People that always condemned the others.

They looked to Jazzlyn and called her names. Slurs, and threw her things. She mostly stayed on the streets but she was anything but deranged. She had a home where she'd go to. But she loved this place.

She was born here, by the side of the road where her mother had unconsciously slipped into labor while tending to the fried yams for the masses.

She had not a canteen but a shed, under which Jazz was born, as a man, as Mohammed Akbar by the side of the road.

And as ironical as i wanted it to sound—

—it was also where she met her end.

It was a fateful day in 01, one that held so much promises and possibilities to Ola. But it was when the night fell, his hopes and heart did too. He thought he had only witnessed a robbery, but what he feared, was right. Alas, it was more.

It was a gruesome murder by the edge of the road.

He'd watched from the windows as instructed by his father and a few other residents gathered. He bit nervously into his nails and chewed the insides of his mouth as he paced around the room.

He tried to stabilize his breathes as his chest rose and fell uncontrollably. He fell to the ground, his back against the door, wallowing in a panic attack.

It was just then his mother walked in.

Perhaps she might have heard him from the corridor, she held up a glass of water as Ola clutched his chest. "What's going on?" He asked.

And she kept silent, hefting forward the glass of water as Ola stood to his feet. You could hear his heart racing from a distance, and sound of the gulps down his throat. He burped, putting the glass aside.

"What is it, mum?" He asked as she walked to the windows, tieing together the drapes and letting it fall. All to prevent him from looking outside.

"It's nothing" She plainly said.

"Nothing?" He echoed. "What do you mean nothing? All that blood, the sound of the yelling and the screams—"

"Sadly, it was the mad man that passed. The one i showed you today on the roads" She walked him to his bed and sat him down. He couldn't believe it as he looked to her.

"Passed? You say that like it was easy and peaceful—" He whispered and she reached for his hands.

"He was murdered. Some people think it was a robbery went wrong. But he wasn't sane"

"So who could blame him?" She asked.

"A robbery? What could a mad man possibly have" Ola wanted to ask, but he was too stunned to speak.

"But he—" Instead he paused, wishing to chew on his words. "He was a woman with—" He stuttered, trying to fathom what had just happened and put it in mere words. "No, my dear" His mom relieved.

"He was a callous man that wore dresses and make up and wigs. A nuisance to the community" She added and he arched his brows at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, hefting up his blankets.

"Is that why he was called insane?"

"Well, will a normal man wear heels and trail the streets like an ashewo?" She threw back a question and he went silent. "You should get some sleep"

"It's been a rough day. And a long one. Your father and the men will deal with this by tomorrow" She assured and there was something off about that statement and how she walked to that door and he could sense it.

She put off his lights as he ruffled, facing the white washed ceilings, not that he could see it.

And then he turned. hearing mutterings and murmurs and the sound of a plastic bag. He crept down his bed stubbornly, and not being able to sleep. And he walked back to the windows.

There was light from a torch that nearly met him, before it was pointed back to the black sack in which they wrapped her into. Jazzlyn Pius.

Olamide closed his eyes and took a step back.

He barely knew this woman, whose gender was clearly the talk of the town for a while, but he could still sense something off. And he had to try to put that thought to bed, if ever he was going to have enough sleep. Two nights were his max, or else he'd be a walking zombie to school the next day.

He climbed into his bed, wrapping a pillow around his ears to block out the noises of shovel and the mutters. He'd realized that Jazzlyn died close to their property and for a while, the screams echoed his ears while he tried to sleep.

Till eventually he did.

He was awake, far before his alarm rang. Even if he still had some things in his bags, he'd brought that out and placed it on the counter next to his bed.

He always needed that for a typical morning in Tx.

A typical morning in Texas? He'd get up as early as six am, and go jogging and as risky as that might sound for a black man his age, the place he lived was very peaceful. At least, the place his uncle lived. After jogging, Ola had to make his breakfast.

A combination of bacon and eggs, all the size of half a plate that you'd worry he had an eating disorder. He might actually have, because it was the only way he'd lost half a hundred pounds in a year.

He'd use this app to exercise for about thirty minutes and then hop in the shower, just about time to start preparing for school. He'd be done the next hour, and leave with James, his father's brother, who'd drop him off at school on his way to work.

They were so close that Ola sometimes wished that he had birthed him. School started a quarter past eight on the assembly where he'd be met with William and Sarah. Both of whom constituted the trio they called a friend group. It was always them.

Them, at the classes they shared, them at the lunch table and they imitated others, and teased the fresher's wardrobe malfunctions. They were no bullies, just a bunch of bored, hungry and horny teenagers.

Horny, yes.

But that was Sarah, having hooked up with half the boys on the football team, except Williams.

They had tried, but Williams played more for the other team, don't get me started on them. The point was, mornings were a routine. A perfect one, wake up, jog, eat, exercise, shower, school, back.

And that balance soothed his sanity. But all that was about to change as Ola shot his eyes to the ceiling with a terrible headache. He pulled away the covers at the sound of the alarm and looked outside the windows. He couldn't jog, he was terrified as the events from last night still flashed in his head.

Like forks bashing into his temples.

He groaned, at how disorganized his day had started. He'd barely gotten enough sleep and went straight to exercising. But alas, his network reception lagged. It was typical in this place, he didn't have wifi, just the sim that had only been activated a while ago. He fell to the ground, with the phone, atop his chest as he laid still, his eyes set to the windows as he watched the sun set in time.

Gradually.

He could already feel the bags around his eyes like he felt the aches in his joint. His door slightly opened and it wedged against his feet. "Olamide"

"Olamide, what are you doing on the floor?" Mary peered from the other side as she pushed him away. She emerged from it like a winner of some race, as she stared with disappointment from above.

"You know we have an appointment with the school regarding your transfer?" She asked, already in her traditional attire. It was a blue and yellow day, for a tuesday. But the same old gele. He closed his eyes as he whimpered on the grounds.

"I don't want to go anywhere" Ola said and she kicked him slightly in his bottom. "Get up, your oat's getting cold on the kitchen table" She said.

"And don't keep me waiting. Unless you want to spend another year home" That rang in his ears as a threat and he bolted up.

Mary peeked from the door, before she closed it and a smile crept to her lips for a second.

That second before she realized that someone had been murdered on her driveway. And then, it vanished off her lips. And a frown reigned.

The spot was still there, no matter how much they had scrubbed the previous night. Stains and splatters of dried blood against the concrete pavement and Ola had stopped to stare for a second.

He was brought back to that night, hearing her scream and the sight flashed before his eyes. All before his mother held him, drifting him from his intrusive thoughts. He softly gasped as they carried on walking the opposite direction.

"Can't we just call an uber?" Ola asked and she scoffed in reply. "This is exercise. Your daily dose of vitamin D. I didn't raise a lazy child" She said, with the infamous accent as Ola stared to the roads.

Nothing had changed, everyone went around with their normal lives like a person hadn't just been murdered. It didn't make the news, her body was just wrapped up and disposed only God knew where. Ola thought as he looked to Mary, sharing greetings like it was indeed a great day—

—a good morning.

One that didn't involve packing up a body. The neighbors knew because most of them had come around yesterday night. And word would have spread like wildfire, starting from the fact that Jazz no longer roamed the streets. It was a bustling city, word was bound to spread like wildfire.

But the thing was, no one did anything. Ola didn't expect a candle lit ritual for the city's favorite person, at least he wanted people to acknowledge Jazzlyn's death. Maybe not only for her—

—but for the insecurities ravaging the city.

"What's going to happen to her?" Ola asked Mary after a while and she carried on like she heard nothing. "Mum" He called again and this time, she whisked him closer to her. "What are you saying?"

"Jazzlyn"

"And why are you whispering?" Ola asked. "You don't want people to know it was close to our house. Your father doesn't want this kind of attention. It's really not safe, for us" She muttered.

"But the police?" He asked, unconsciously in a whisper now. "What happened to them? Like they haven't done worse" She replied.

"What are you s—"

"You really want them coming to question you, and take you into their custody. With all that's going on, the brutalities, the police is not exactly our friend"

"Let's take it like self cleansing? Self purging?" She said as he tried to match her pace. "Jazzlyn was a sinner and a nuisance, we could all agree that yesterday" Mary continued. "Yet, you haven't said one thing that she did" Ola replied and she scoffed.

"There are somethings you don't understand" She said. "So self purging, right? While the actual killer just roams the streets, Mary" He said and she rolled her eyes, frustrated at the back and forth.

"Don't you think i know that? Don't you think we know that?" She asked, somehow loudly than a whisper. "The community vigilante has been called now but you, you just do you" She added.

"Just do you, i'll protect you. There's no reason to be scared" She said, clearing her throat. "And who protects people like Jazzlyn?" She remained silent as she walked ahead of Ola, tethering no more of her words to him. He heaved a sigh from his lips.

To be continued…

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