The grass cutter

The clock in Chinaza’s room struck midnight. Chinaza stood up and moved slowly along the wall of his room. He picked up the cutlass lying by his stove carefully. The intruder on the other side of his door was going to visit his ancestors today; he thought.

Every morning, he woke up to meet trash dumped in front of his door. He had accused the neighbours a number of times and each time, every one of them denied the allegations against them. This night, he was going to catch whoever was dumping trash in front of his door red-handed.

The moon was full and it illuminated the corridor of the face-to-face rooms where Chinaza had moved in six months ago. He was grateful for the full moon because that would enable him see the intruder clearly and unmistakably.

He held the door knob gently and opened the door carefully trying not to startle the intruder. Just a swipe of the cutlass and the intruder would forever regret making his abode his dustbin.

As the door creaked open, Chinaza came face to face with a large grass cutter. He lifted up his cutlass as the grass cutter made a frightened attempt to run away. The cutlass landed squarely on the tail of the grass cutter, cutting it off totally. Suddenly, there was a loud scream from the room opposite Chinaza’s.

the-grass-cutter

The scream continued to rise in crescendo waking up the sleeping neighbours who all came out of their rooms groggily to meet Chinaza with a blood-stained cutlass. “Wetin dey happen for hia?” The landlord barked as he walked out of his room with a wrapper tied around his lower body.

“I am also wondering.” Chinaza said still holding his cutlass.

“Wetin you dey do with cutlass for this time of the night?”

“I wanted to catch the intruder dropping trash in front of my door every night. I caught a large grass cutter and hit it on the tail; only to hear screaming from Baba Jojo’s room.”

The scream continued to emanate from Baba Jojo’s room and the neighbours all agreed to find out what the problem was. They knocked the door but got no response. They banged on the door but no one opened. After about ten minutes, the screaming died down. The landlord ordered that the door be broken down.

The door was broken down to reveal Baba Jojo lying down on the floor of his room with a deep cut on his leg. Blood streamed out of the cut. He had bled to death.

——-

Photo Credit: http://www.nairaland.com

About Olubukola

Olubukola is a writer and blogger. She loves reading and imaginative writing. She has authored two romance stories namely “Second Chances” and “To Love and to Hold” which have been published on Okadabooks.com and on Amazon.com. Her author page on Amazon is http://www.amazon.com/author/olubukolaadekusibe/ Olubukola is the creative director of NDJs; a fashion label, whose mission is to create and provide classy yet simple pieces with African prints for the everyday woman regardless of the function she finds herself in. Asides writing, reading and fashion designing, Olubukola is also passionate about inspiring music, dance and arts. She currently works and lives with her family in Lagos, Nigeria.

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