I was ordered to open a gate that separated me, and a potential predator.
” Vula igate ngoku! HEYYYY!” was all Sir Out of Order kept yelling at me. He’d shake the gate and then yell. Leaning toward opening up, I zoned in on the two other people with him. It’s a man, a hun and they look as sketchy as Bongo himself, so I go with the idea that is a possible robbery?
Sir Out of Order yells again and halfway through, I yell back “why! You are two men telling a woman home alone, to open the gate when she doesn’t know you?? Does that make sense, cupcake??”. I’m whyling with my chest but deep down I’m ready to cry at this point. The tears I’m about to shed are the answer to our water scarcity problems.
We go back and forth, with me saying “nah” and him basically declaring that he’s going to body slam me for defiance once he gets in. Sir Out of Order (by the grace of God because I can’t say it was common sense) provides clarity: he is the complex security guard and the young hun with him (let’s call her honeybun) was raped. To make matters worse? She was raped in the very flat that I am in right now. My throat catches a stray itch and I am quieter than Cyril in a crisis.
He continues to inform me that it happened in the wee hours of the morning when Honeybun interjects – “it was you!”
“You were here when they raped me! you had milk in your hands!”, she says as she starts to sob. If I was going cry earlier, I am ready to deep-sea dive in my tears right now.
Cue freaking tffff out. Thoughts raced through my mind as Hugh Hefner ran through the Playboy bunnies Am I going to be late for work? Do I have to get a mugshot? It’s at this moment that I realized I truly don’t know how the justice system works. I don’t even take milk, will that hold up in court? All I know is that it would be my word against hers and I didn’t even do anything! I hear movement in the house.
Oh, would you look at that – It’s ya boi Donut.
Walking into the passageway like he’s on set for som music video, he looks at the unwanted guests, then at me, ‘Hey, hey, what’s going on now? Why’s everyone yelling? Chi Chi, who are these people?
I immediately look at Sir Out of Order as if to say look, here is the real tenant, when Honeybun sees Donut and loses both her tits, ‘YOU! YOU RAPED ME!’
Oop- I start looking for keys. I’m finna let this bad boi out the gate because I will not obstruct justice. Sir Out of Order starts talking about calling police officers and at this point I am the A student every teacher wants. Give me full marks sir coz I’m about to submit this man. I’m fumbling, looking about for keys when I get of glimpse of Donut – he has no context lmao so he’s calmer than you need to in this kind of situation. “Nahh…are, are you pregnant?”. That’s all he said.
I look at Honeybun, and she is indeed pregnant – wearing one flip flop and a silk petticoat. I noticed they looked sketchy but I didn’t notice just how sketchy.
“… you raped me in the room on the floor…”
I’m like, that’s odd, “baby both these men have queens sized beds in their rooms”, (but still…)
“… and there is an L shaped couch in the lounge…”
Awks. There is no such thing here. I’ve stopped looking for the keys.
I think sir Out of Order is tired of this because he demands we open the gate saying he wants to see the other guy that lives in the flat too. Donut, with the most kind of authority and in true skrr tones says ‘nah, nah, *flicks dreads in Zac Effron*
“Look. Malume, if she can give us 5 things she saw in the house, I will open this gate right now”. Sir O.O.O cavs the vibe. Okay cool. It’s time for a game of Heads Up – The crime scene edition.
I look to Honeybun and ask that she tells us what she can remember because we can’t open the gate for something we aren’t sure of. “I just remember the couch and a red TV… I was so drunk. There were 4 black men. Sister, they did it for so long I started bleeding”. She starts snivelling. There is no TV here. This is a laptop home, but we say nothing.
Donut’s flatmate is white. I clear my own name by showing a snap of me walking passed security earlier in the morning and Donut finishes off my sentence by confirming that they have none of what she described. We eventually conclude that Honeybun & Co. are at the wrong flat and with mumbles of apology from each, they continue on the way in search of the suspect.
Honeybun & Co. get to the floor below us and with screams and shoving Donut and I realize that they’ve found the criminaaaaal. Like James Bond’s martini, we are shaken, but also what to know how it ends so Donut speeds off to see what’s happening while me and my short legs scurry after.
The rapists’ workshop is located.
According to the police officers who eventually came, gents who had gone out to Long street the night before found a hun to vibe with (read: Honeybun). But because they lived too far out for the nyams, they called up a friend to host their shenanigans because he lives closeby – cue the owner of the flat below.
He answered to their call, letting them roll in for a little genital play but halfway through, seemed to be exhausted by the drunken chaos and asked them all to leave. The men left the flat with Honeybun but asked her to get out the car real quick because they needed to rearrange for space. She got out, and they sped off – leaving the hungover, pregnant lady in flip flop and her petticoat at the entrance of the complex. She relayed her story to the security guard, and thus, we meet Sir Out of Order (who provided no context) banging on our door…
Looks to me like if you’re up early for work it leaves more room for chaos to ensue.