Throwback to my first ever attempt at Flash Fiction writing. Of course I tweaked this piece a little, but it still tells the same story as the previous.
“Burn her! Burn her!” The angry mob yelled, every voice echoing bitter hunger for retribution. A stench of horror held in the air. Some agberos approached the girl now lying on the ground with a five-litre gallon of fuel and a tyre to make complete the act. Jungle Justice it was called. Tears peeling off her eyes, she sought God’s mercy. She deserved to die, but didn’t want to. A rain boot clad feet kicked a side of the girl’s chest and she coughed with pain. She rolled to her side, wet earth plastering her face, her hand and down to the rest of her body. Stretching out her hands, she flexed her knee, in an attempt to stand before another kick reached her thigh. “Oh heavens, please” Why had she gotten herself into this mess? Why had she allowed herself be lured by a paltry fifty Naira note?
Through jagged sobs, the girl floundered to the left and right, searching for a way of escape. Fire sparked from a corner, and she closed her eyes, fearing what was imminent. The tugs swathed her, burning sticks in hands. Traders left their stands, and some with phones recording, watched with excitement, the thief being made a perpetual moral lesson. Some children mourned, while others affixed in awe, clung to their parents.
Another kick to the girl’s tummy, and she landed face down on the ground. Sharp pain shot through her head, and eased off, almost as quickly as she felt a cool liquid hit her skin and then evaporate. Her brain spun at the realization of what the liquid was. Her limbs flailed in a failed attempt of a flight response, when before her eyes, her chiffon gown burst into flames. She felt her skin scald, and blood slide from several openings and then fizzle into quick vapours.
Movements, as well as time stilled. Voices muffled saving only the one for whom she lived. The people faded into a haze, and she saw in tardy motion, her mother’s wrapper untie as she fought the men that restrained her. Her mother’s loose arm muscles wiggled like jelly as she reached for her, calling out “Ada“; her only daughter.
“Mama!” The girl screamed but realized her voice was only a whisper. And in that moment, the girl breathed her last.
