Not My Business

Yesterday, Wole-ola wailed home from the farm, hot on the heel of his father's maimedness. "The herders chopped his limbs while shooing off their herds from feeding off our field." He exclaimed with anguish splattered all over him. I squinted long at him and muttered: "not my business, so far I'm not touched. This morning the news had spread like wildfire: Nna Uche was tied to a tree and right there his only daughter, Ogechi, was dragged down and ferociously defiled by some lanky men until life deserted her. I shrugged my shoulders and muttered: "not my business, so far I'm not touched" In the noon time, they came again like bandits for Mama Aisha and made away with her three children, demanding huge ransom. She wept and writhed in the yard. I stared long at her and muttered: "not my business, so far I'm not touched." Later in the evening, I went about my usual ramble. Only to be hemmed in on by these same lanky demons. I looked long at them and said to myself: "it might be my business now..."