It was Friday and as usual, the bar was jammed with people. Thick cigarette smoke hovered in the air. As I stood at the entrance, I saw a poster plastered on the wall. A band was billed to perform later that night.
Baba VaTata and Rasta were sitting at our usual table. There were two other strangers whom I had never seen before. There was some argument going on.
“I have been told that you have been seen several times with my wife,” said one of the strangers. He was accusing Baba VaTata. He had a permanent sneer on his face which gave him a funny look and I found it appropriate to call him Sneer.
What he was saying was dangerous and if it was true, Baba VaTata was in serious trouble.
“I don’t even know your wife,” said Baba VaTata.
I could see that his denial was weak. This was not the first time he was being accused of infidelity. I had even warned him at one time about this.
“Guys let’s go away,” said Rasta. It was a clever way of getting rid of the strangers, but Sneer was having none of it.
“I am not going to let you go just like that,” said Sneer. He stood up suddenly, picked up a chair and hit Baba VaTata on the head.
It happened so fast and before anyone could do anything, Sneer punched Baba VaTata in the face, again and again. When I tried to stop Sneer, he suddenly produced a knife and glared at me. He looked like he could use the knife.
By now, the other people were shouting. Baba VaTata was down on his knees, bleeding. I had warned him several times about married women. Rasta suddenly taunted Sneer.
“If you are a man, drop that knife. Let’s fight like real men,” said Rasta.
This angered Sneer and he made a dive for Rasta, ready to plunge the knife into him, but he tripped and fell. I had never seen Rasta like that. He kicked Sneer in the groin as I tried to help Baba VaTata to his feet so that he could escape. The other people were shouting and trying to escalate the brawl. We were almost by the exit, with Rasta behind us, that Sneer almost caught up with us again. He was furious.
“Stop! You are not going anywhere,” he said.
We all stopped and some of the other people in the bar crowded around us, closing all escape routes.
In recent years, crimes of passion had spiked and Sneer was the type who could do anything and think later. As I tried to push away some people who were blocking our way, Sneer grabbed me from behind and as I turned I clobbered him on the chest. And then he came for me. We fought toe to toe, with the people cheering.
I felt something sharp on my left arm, and the pain coursed all over my body. Then I swung my right fist with all the force I had. The fist caught him in the face and he fell with a great crash, bringing the fight to a sudden end.
The perils of infidelity can lead to death. Baba VaTata has to change his ways before harm comes to him.
*Onie Ndoro
OnieX@903
