CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

His mother and brother had gone round looking for him , asking his friends they knew of but nothing came up. They hadn't seen him and they too had been furious at his gambling. The friend he stayed with was unknown to his family, a gambler. They had met at the betting centre. That was one thing about betting centres and beer parlors, you make friends easily and show solidarity to each other. He had been sheltered by a fellow comrade but there was no comfort. He had slept on the floor, linoleum really while his host and girlfriend slept on the small mattress. In the morning, they ate left over beans and both host and girlfriend left, no plans for lunch. He became a prodigal son, with all the comfort at home, he was now sleeping on linoleums, with no plans for lunch and no money on him,  and no new‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ cloth to wear. 

 That was one thing about gambling and other reckless habits; always having a way of turning one into useless person, at least until that person comes back to his senses. Ayuba was in that state now, just that he was still not ready to return home. He spent his day at the betting centre, another comrade had given him one hundred and fifty bucks and it was as if the god of this betting centre was asleep. Ayuba won nine hundred and fifty thousand bucks. He gave the comrade who had given him the money two hundred, used three hundred to book two games, #150 to book a game for another comrade and used the remaining amount to order for a nice meal. He was sensible there. When the meal came, the virtual matches they booked had ended, all their 'tickets cut.’ 

 Winning the nine hundred and fifty bucks gave him the feeling that today would be a good day. Apparently it was a delusion, the gods that were hitherto sleeping had woken up. His joy disappeared as easily as it came. The only good thing was that he had at least eaten a nice meal, a plate of rice and beans for two hundred bucks and a bottle of coke. The woman with the shack not far away from the betting centre made sure everyone ate according to the money he had. Ayuba had eaten and would wait for another comrade to pay for his next ticket. He would tell comrades what he had done and some would feel sympathy for him, others empathy.

“O boy, you have a large heart,” Abdul, an outspoken comrade and a diehard Ac Milan fan who would argue and if possible fight for Ac Milan. “If it was me that did this thing, my papa would have killed me,” His comment was no word of comfort, it only raised Ayuba’s tension.

“What has happen has happened, no need crying over spilled milk. So what are you going to do now?” It was 2short speaking. The name was meant for him indeed but his height didn’t take away his pride. He would flirt with all the girls who came in to sell local drinks, cup cakes and other eatables. People always thought if he had actually been taller than this, then he would wreaked havoc; perhaps it was nature’s way of curtailing his future excesses that made sure he wasn’t taller than this.  Ayuba didn’t even know his real name, he just looked at him and nodded his head slowly. Was he stupid? That was what Ayuba thought while he looked at him and nodded his head. If he had known what he would do, would he be standing here with them right now? Was he not telling them so someone among them would come up with a smart idea?

“These betting centres are dammit,” Officer was saying while squeezing the ticket he had booked yesterday. He had played Manchester United to win but they drew the game. “These betting centers seems to have a way around these betting stuff. Its more of loosing than winning, when you play big team to win they end up losing or at best they draw, when you pick team that is good in scoring many goals they end up with less goals.”

“I must confess this betting seems nothing but another means of exploitation,” 2short interjected. “With all the money they have been making from vulnerable people, its time we start staying away from these betting centers, infact run far away from such places.” Again it sounded like noise to Ayuba, didn’t they know this before? Ayuba thought. Infact who was he to say he had lost money, how much had he lost? Was it up to half of what Ayuba had lost here? Was he trying to spite Ayuba the more or what?  Perhaps he ought to just shut up sometimes instead of churning out nonsense.  

Another told him, “You messed up, the deed had been done, just go home.” Ayuba had looked at him intently into his eyes, into his head, his mind. Did he know what he was saying? Someone interrupted and that was when he returned from wherever his mind had taken him to. As they all talked, he was hearing them but not understanding them. It sounded argot or gibberish. Just then he stood up, “I will be going home, damn the consequences! Afterall I did not kill anyone, just been careless with money. Im going home, and im ready for the consequences. Im ready to face my fears.” Then suddenly remembering the seriousness of his crime and realising that his was nothing but empty ranting and ‘ginger,’ he sat down, the rant and chant of a bird in a cage, step out if that's simple. 

His sitting position was one that backed the entrance to the betting centre. His closest friend who was now doing a youth program had told him several times to watch American spy movies but he wouldn’t listen. Perhaps if he had devoted time to watching American spy movies, he would have known agents never sat with their backs to the door. They always took vantage positions where they would see everyone walking in and out of the building. So backing the door meant it was only natural for him not to know what or who was coming behind him. His brother had led their mother to the betting centre and his mother would recognise that shirt anywhere. She had bought that shirt for him herself, a sales lady had brought it to her  work place and she had liked the  shirt instantly. She collected the shirt on credit, it was the same shirt Ayuba wore yesterday and he still had it on. The slap that landed on his back sprang him up immediately, then she grabbed his shirt and the name calling started.

 “Idiot, nonsense boy, you will not kill me, you will only kill yourself, ask them , all these people , ask‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ them, how many of them will steal from their mothers and come here?” If only his mother knew the worse things some of those she made reference to do, she would have asked a different question. His younger brother looked him in the eye.

“It’s unfortunate you're my elder brother.” That was another cue for their mother. 

“You heard him right!, you hear your younger brother right.”  People had gathered and Ayuba could only bow his head down in shame, he deserved it. He knew this was coming. Whatever they threw at him, he had made his bed and it was his to lay on. Just then a policeman and an elderly man made their way into the crowd. It was Ayuba's father who had gone to get a policeman, real men don't bark, they don’t, they just bite. The policeman was here to take Ayuba to police station and teach him a lesson. And so, that was how Ayuba ended up being a cellmate to Gabriel and the boy mama had come to visit.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬