IKONNE.

He watched her with heightened suspicion 

As she made her way towards him

She was dressed like them, the killers

As she reached for something in her handbag

He gripped the hilt of his dagger

Her hand emerged, clutching an umbrella

She walked past him

As he struggled to hide the knife

He heard the voices again

'Drink petrol now, and become special'

In the backyard, he found a full gallon

And drank and drank

He felt his chest burning

The voices were laughing now

And singing in another language

He tried to decode the lyrics

But his head was spinning

He coughed, it was bloody

Another set of voices awoke him

A small, laughing crowd

A boy was shouting,'Ikonne drank fuel o!'

He stood up and charged at them, gallon in hand

They fled like mortified rabbits

He was indeed special

The voices issued another command

'You need to be cleansed'

Removing the remainder of his clothes

His naked frame trekked the tarred road

Under the heat of the midday sun

In search of a river

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.