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This is a simple straightforward poem. Wish more of us would think about it like this.
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Fiction | Flash


Syn is tailing the taxi carting his mother and his brother. The taxi driver seems an expert in penetrating through the hold-ups. Syn is trying so hard not to lose sight of the taxi. There is no way he was going to let his mother take his kid brother away. The road leading to the airport becomes clear. But the chase gets no easier.

“Shit!” Syn screams.

He is only relieved when he spotted a police road-block up in front. He pulls over on reaching the road-block. The taxi is on a halt.

“Police, do not let them!” Syn yells, jumping out of the car.

The suspicious eyes of three policemen ran through the interior of the taxi. There is a fourth policeman seated across the road just watching while smoking.

His mother loses patience and came out of the taxi dragging Emeka along. Meanwhile the driver’s confused look is attracting more needless suspicions.

“Policemen, do not let this woman pass, she is taking my brother away,” Syn pleads.

The policemen’s attentions leave the taxi driver and fell on Syn’s mother.

“For God’s sake, this is my son.” Syn’s mother says clasping Emeka against her body.

It does not take long for the policemen to realise that the issue was all about a family crisis. They instruct the taxi driver to park his taxi by the side of the road so that other incoming vehicles could pass smoothly.

‘Syn, you are a disappointment. You can join us in Italy, later on. There is a better life out there,’ the mother persuades.

‘Mother, I have a promising football career ahead of me, and I don’t need you to take me abroad,’ Syn says quietly this time before raising his voice again to shock the policemen who were so curious in knowing the details of the misunderstanding. ‘Mother, I can’t let Emeka experience what I experienced in Italy. Your affairs with those men ruined my life.’

Syn’s mother notices the dicey attitudes of the policemen’s eyes before slapping Syn.

‘Mother, you are a whore! Your whole life is nothing but shit…. Emeka is not following you anywhere.’ He then diverts his attention to the kid. ‘Emeka, don’t follow her. I would be part of the Nigerian under-nineteen world cup team going to France. Emeka, you will come with me to France if you want to.’

The mother’s anger gets sourer as she pushes Syn away.

‘Don’t touch me, you whore,’ Syn squeals.

‘Emeka will decide for himself,’ she says bluntly. Looking at her second son, she asks, ‘Are you coming with me or not?’

Emeka will not speak for silence and confusion clouded his eyes.

‘Emeka, don’t go… Remember, you have dreams of becoming a Barcelona player… Remember, I promised to mentor you so you would become a good footballer,’ Syn pleads.

‘You are an idiot,’ the mother spits in Syn’s direction. ‘You are just a local Nigerian footballer uncertain of a future.’

The policeman who had been smoking across the road approaches the argument spot and rebukes Syn greatly. ‘Even if your mother is wrong, you have no right to insult her.’ He then bawls at the other policemen, ‘You fools have been letting cars pass unchecked because of this useless boy who has no regard for a mother.

The policemen ends up letting Syn’s mother and Emeka proceed. Syn’s rebelliousness against the policemen for being unfair leads to something else. He receives a beating he would never forget.

When Syn is finally allowed to go by the policemen, it was too late. He checks his time confirming defeat. A roaring sound of a plane fills the air. He drives back in the way he came. He thinks of all the dreams he had penned down for Emeka. Tears fill his eyes. Regrets sink into his heart.

6 comments to LUST FOR ITALY

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