WHO DID IT 2

 Whosoever played that trick on me played it so well and won me over. I had to face trial for a crime I didn’t even commit. What a cruel world.

We got to Njuli police station, the officers beat the hell out of me, and they wanted me to confess why I had a half-dead man at the boot of my car at such an hour. I tried to make sense to them that I knew nothing about the man but they insisted that since I knew his name, I must have known what happened. Their gumboots landed on every part of me, they had no mercy. They stepped on me with their gumboots until I passed out.

I came back to life 2days later on as per what one lady who I enquired was a ward attendant told me at Zomba Central said. I still had handcuffs on me tied to the hospital bed. Was I then a criminal?

Minutes later the officer that gave me harder beatings the other night walked to my bed. “Now that you are back to life, are you ready to confess what you did to Mr Kambani?” What was wrong with this man? They said Kambani wasn’t dead, why didn’t they just go to him and ask him who had assaulted him instead of trying to accuse me of attempted murder? Of course I was making a plan of killing him and I was at the peak of taking action before whosoever moron acted it before me. I just wish I didn’t wake up from that minor coma. I should have just died and go to rest. “I didn’t do anything to him, I know him yes but I am innocent of these accusations.” “If you are really innocent then you will have to prove it out.” He untied me from the bed and handcuffed both my arms; he led the way till we got out of the hospital to the police cruiser. They drove me to Thondwe police station. I was given the most horrible beatings I had never gotten all my life. I cried my heart out for mercy but nobody felt sorry for me. That was what they do to punish a criminal, they were good at it. 

The one that buffed me the most was that I was being punished for a crime I didn’t even commit not for a 3percent. I should have just stabbed him when I found him hopeless on that floor; I wouldn’t have been punished in vain.

I kept wondering why the officers kept beating me even when they knew I was pregnant. Did they not mind that fact? What if they had led me into miscarriage or any other complications?

Days turned into weeks and I was still kept in custody without trial and without access to my lawyer. I still had not gotten the news of how Kambani was doing or where he was. No one bothered to update me on his well-being. Was he the one who played that prank on me? If he knew nothing about it why didn’t he come to see me or better still tell the police who did that to him and set me free? 

A week after I got seriously ill, the officers kept giving me paracetamol and parapain that almost looked expired. They never helped ease my pain. Waist pains, joint pains, endless fevers and nausea were all over me throughout. The room I was put in was too small to even accommodate 14people, it was fit for 4 if not 3. I was panicking , there was no way one would lie down, we slept while seated up. Everything was done in there, from peeing to defecating. So disgusting.

I kept on having morning sickness and the officers never cared about it, they said the only thing that was to set me free was my confession. I began to think of just admitting to have attempted killing Kambani, maybe to help me get out of that shitty place. I was fed up with everything I went through. I was losing my mind and then I was on life-prolonging drugs, I was infected. I was pregnant. My sanity was elapsing slowly.

They again took me to the interrogation room; beat me harder, they called me all sorts of names. I wonder where God was all along, why did He let these people had their way on me. Was He punishing me for scheming to kill Kambani? But I didn’t do it. God should have rescued me. They kicked me more and it got me miscarry my pregnancy. I cried over it for the whole week, I couldn’t eat and I wasn’t taking my drugs. I just wanted to die. What was there to live for? I had already lost myself in just a couple of months and there was no other reason to exist. My family never even showed up. Perhaps, they didn’t know of my whereabouts? Or they just never cared?

I was allowed to have a lawyer two days to my court trial. He was from the Women’s rights organization. He fought through my case till the final day when I was found guilty of attempted murder and sentenced to 15years imprisonment with hard labour. I cried. I had to get a rough punishment when I was the one wronged? Did these people really look through my case with professionalism? Or was some kind of corruption involved? I still didn’t understand what strategy they used to find me guilty. They gave evidence that I was at Kambani’s place, the whole call log records we had, fighting and arguing over the pregnancy and the HIV thing, I don’t know how they got them or where they got them but yes everything was used against me. I was just a woman trying to fight for her relationship. I didn’t want to raise a child out of wedlock; neither did I want to raise a fatherless child. I just wanted the safety of the child and a better explanation to why Kambani had decided to infect me with AIDS and then dump me like some whore.

Edmund, the lawyer, promised me he was going to dig through the case and make sure he gets the culprit, there was sincerity in his words, I believed him.

I was then moved to Zomba maximum prison. The rumours I heard about that place were all confirmed, I was on a welcome punishment the whole of the first week. I was required to wash, clean, dust out everything in the cells were the old comer prisoners resided; Nyambalo, that was what they were called. 

I made friends with a few inmates who taught me the prison lifestyle and everything else I needed to know. Lerato was the best amongst the rest of them; she gave me a lot of courage and hope that there was life after the sentence. If only I wasn’t going to die along my serving. 

Weeks and months went by, Edmund was visiting occasionally, he would tip me on a few things but they weren’t too relevant to prove my innocence but I was still grateful. Then Lerato introduced me to a deal she was in. she told me it was the fastest way to gather facts and know the truth behind my arrest and sentence. She introduced me to one of the prison warders who promised to feed us with any information we needed to hear and in return pay her some money. The problem was on where I was to get the money from; involving Edmund was even too risky but he was the only hope I had then. He was the only person allowed to see me; my family was never allowed to visit; I was on a greater punishment. 

Lerato insisted we involve Edmund for the money and he agreed to it openly. The warder was giving us letters where she wrote hints on what was happening. The whole thing went on for a month. Kambani had ceased all my assets and frozen all my bank accounts, he had tracked me down through a surveillance and knew of my movements, he knew of my plans of going to his house although he didn’t know what I was going there to do; no wonder I didn’t find his gateman and found the door open. He acted out on stabbing himself to make it look like an assault and when I was calling the police he sneaked to my car and hid in the boot. He paid out to the officers at Njuli station to beat the hell out of me and send me to prison. Everything happened all because he wanted to take over my properties. Greed!!

Lerato and I planned to how to escape from prison with the help of the warder, I was nervous about the whole plan but that was the only way I could pay back that wretched savage for whatever he did to me. Edmund never supported the idea. What did he know? He obviously didn’t know the pains I went through. I needed to revenge and nothing was going to stop me. I had made up my mind.

Lerato and I made our escape, everything we needed was provided for by the warder, Edmund said he wasn’t going to be a part of it. He had said I should leave it all to him to handle it and not escape from prison. I didn’t bother to persuade him to, he must have had his reasons, securing his reputation and career perhaps. But Lerato was a friend indeed, we drove through to Kambani’s new house in Sunnyside, he was living at large already whilst I was rotting in prison for a crime I never committed. We had tramadol drug with us, Lerato injected it on his gateman whilst I rushed inside to deal with Kambani.

Was I full of bad luck to the extent that I had to get into missed opportunities each time I had a plan to make a move?

Getting to the living room, I found Kambani oozing blood, he was stabbed. This time around it was real. I had gotten a closer look at him. He was lying on his couch, dead. Lerato rushed over, checked on him and confirmed he was really dead. WHO DID IT?? How possible was it that he had died? Had he wronged someone else other than me? 

Whilst lost in my thoughts Lerato dragged me outside, we got into the car and sped off…

THE END