The cocktail smell of fresh vegetables and the usual unwelcoming stench in Panta market wasn’t of greater concern than the angry mob who had gathered around a ragga-muffian. Some lanky market women ceased their trading activities to catch a glimpse of the scene which had become aggressive. The little boy was dragged on the wet filthy floor of the market (for it rained heavily the previous day) and was lynched nearly to death by some fierce-looking men but for the timely intervention of a deliverer.
The well-dressed gentleman whose car was parked nearby instructed the men assaulting the little boy with much audacity to let the boy free else he will call the police right away. They couldn’t but obey him and the crowd dissolved gradually. The market was back to its normal trading activities but not less noisy because the ditties of the hawkers were louder than before. The gentle-man payed the cost of what the boy had stolen and he moved away with the severely wounded thief.
The boy wore a mud-soaked tattered and torn cloth and was shivering in fear even whilst sitting in Barr. Evans Owusu Ameyaw , his deliverer’s car which was driven far away from the market. Barr. Ameyaw looked at the boy intently in shock not because he was licking his tears that rolled down his cheeks and blew his nose with his smelly shirt but because he couldn’t get the meaning of a small boy being brutally assaulted for stealing a tuber of yam.
Many years before he started pursuing his law career, he knew that instant justice of suspected criminals even when caught red-handed was illegal and tantamount to punishment. Now as a barrister, he simply couldn’t tolerate this sort of mob action which had increased in the country lately. Last month, it was reported in the news that a university student was burnt to death by his fellow students on campus for allegedly being the leader of an occult group and thus, responsible for the murder of one of the female students. Upon further investigations, this young man who was a student of dentistry was proved not culprit of the crimes levelled against him but the harm had been done already at the cost of his life. This was an unfortunate incident but to him, he insisted that those who partook in burning the innocent lad should be dealt with by law and this was why he was still following that case. He asked rhetorically and unconsciously, “In this twenty-first century?”. The boy who barely understood English and spoke a smuttering of it struggled to open the door to his side and run away but upon proving futile, he cried, “Masa, I beg, don’t bury me at the cemetery for juju…oh masa, I beg wae…I be-eee-g”. This got Barr. Ameyaw laughing hysterically for it was the last thing he would do. He explained to the boy that he had no intentions as such and that he was in safe hands.
The boy, upon being asked of the where about of his parents narrated in tears that his father died a month before he was born and his mother died during his birth leading to his being called a wizard sent to bring atrocity to his family. He continued that he was sacked from home at age six to bear with the harsh conditions of the street and had lived his life alone on the street for seven good years. Barr. Ameyaw sympathised with him in his plight, gave him his handkerchief to wipe his tears and blow his nose and lulled him into sleep.
After an hour’s drive, Barrister Ameyaw got home and made preparations for the boy to be bathed and sleep at the boys’ quarters of his mansion overnight. He couldn’t sleep that night and pondered over the boy’s account of his pathetic life. He finally decided to inform his wife about the boy and his plans of adopting him since they had no children after ten years of marriage. He woke up his wife who was deeply asleep to discuss this delicate issue. He tried his best in convincing her to side with him but she seemed to misunderstand him. She felt that her husband was rubbing her barrenness on her face again and didn’t want to start another heated argument as happened many times years before they resolved to live childless. Afterall, the boy in context was an alleged wizard and a thief. No person of high dignity like his husband will dream of associating with, let alone, adopt such a child. Mrs. Elsa Ameyaw, his wife, had a point but he knew her wife was being overly sentimental about the issue as her way of saying no to what he had brought up. He also didn’t want to rush things for he hadn’t built total trust in the young boy yet. He was even shocked how his cold heart could be touched by this seeming rascal. Perhaps it was because of the circumstance he discovered the boy in which coincides with that of the case he was handling. Moreso, it should be because the boy reminds him of how he had once been a street boy and struggled to rise to where he was now. His eyes were beginning to be heavy with sleep so he stopped thinking and joined his wife abed.
Weeks passed by, months elapsed and the boy was thriving very well in the orphanage Barrister Ameyaw had sent him to. He started primary school at grade one and was the oldest student amongst his class mates. This didn’t discourage him at all. Barrister Ameyaw still showed him the undeserving love he showed him from day one and he couldn’t ask for anything else on earth as this. Mrs. Ameyaw became supportive and contributed in his upbringing. He believed that angels lived among men and to him, Barrister Ameyaw is more than one. The boy became so close to him that he mostly spent his vacation days in his big house. They had a father-son relationship and chat as though their relationship was biological. The boy even sometimes jokingly called him ‘Bra rasta’, the name he called him years back when he was young enough to pronounce ‘Barrister’ so well.
The boy had passion for athletics and he had encouragement from his guardian to pursue whatever he dreamt of becoming. Barrister Ameyaw personally employed a coach to train him. The boy picked up the training very quickly and also trained on his own. He wanted to show his appreciation of the kindness of his father by making his life worthwhile to prove that he hadn’t made a mistake of taking him from the streets and caring for him like a child of his own. The boy joined the national athletics team after winning many laurels in Senior High School. He performed very well as a young athlete and never slept on the many laurels he won. He kept on training beacuse he knew that the best laurel was yet to be won.
It is twenty five years now and the boy is surrounded by a crowd again. He hasn’t stolen a tuber of yam this time round. He’s also not about to be lynched to death. Of course not! The people around him are journalists and reporters who merely want to interview him and hear a word or two about how he feels breaking a world record and winning gold medals for his country in the Olympics.
Barrister Evans Owusu Ameyaw is in his old age now and proud of his only son. He is being interviewed by a BBC sports journalist for the olympics about his adopted son. He says LoveJoy Ameyaw is the only son he could ever have had and he is glad destiny intertwined his life with his. He had been praying for a child all these years and his prayers were answered with such a lovely boy whose amazing life would have ended for the sake of a tuber of yam.
The journalist looks inspired by the words of the retired barrister who says in ending the interview, “You may not go to the extent of what I did but It takes a single expression of love, an act of giving to change the life of another person. The world will be better if we were all guardian angels to one another. Your garage could be a home for the homeless street children. The food you waste and throw away daily could feed the children who personify hunger in deprived parts of the world. They’ve got something good in them and like the despised dirty soils, till you dig deep, you wouldn’t discover the expensive minerals of gold and diamonds within. When you discover the gold, you don’t stop there, you refine it so as to be good enough for societal use. This is what I did and I challenge us all to help the needy. The paradox is that we need them more than they need us. I wouldn’t have ever in my life been privileged with an interview as such but for my encounter with an assumed desperate young rascal. The needy ones out there should be self-encouraged to do something worthwhile with their lives. They should keep on fighting and struggling and they will be greatly rewarded someday. For their lives are certainly not worth "a tuber of yam’!”
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