The first borehole in Amaife had been dug and mounted in the market square after the elders had instructed and organised the villagers to contribute money for the duration of four months.
The villagers had been ecstatic. They didn't have to depend on the stream all the time anymore. This was a better and fascinating source of water.
Every morning the queue would be long as every body would go with his/her bucket to fetch water from the tank. It was a good feeling watching the water rush out and fill up the buckets.
The problem was electricity. There was hardly light in Amife and most times the borehole would function just once a week, sometimes even once in two weeks. Gradually the villagers began to lose interest in the borehole. The stream was still better. It was natural and there was never a queue plus it was big enough for everybody.
However some still longed for the development, it wasn't strange to see a small group of people hanging around the tank with their buckets waiting for the water. They never gave up and would spend hours, turning the knob and hoping and praying the water would rush out.
However Joy would finally be the reason everyone would lose interest in the borehole.
She was eleven years old then and was one of the people fascinated by the borehole. She always stopped by and checked it first whenever she needed to fetch water and more often than not she was lucky and filled her bucket before the water finished.
On that fateful day, she had taken a bucket much bigger than her normal size after searching fruitlessly for her own bucket. The bucket Amara usually carried was the one she had to settle for finally.
She stopped by on her way to the stream as usual and tried the tap. She was in luck and she filled the bucket to the brim but there was nobody to help her lift and balance the bucket on her head. She struggled, huffed and puffed and had almost managed to lift the bucket totally when she lost her grip. The bucket fell off and broke the pipe.
The water gushed out with much force. Joy was terrified and she burst into tears. The water kept on rushing and gushing till the tank was emptied and she kept on crying.

Now, six years later and the image suddenly flashed in her memory, but this time she wasn't going to cry, she couldn't cry. The blood kept on gushing the same way the water had gushed out of the dislodged pipe and indeed Batholomew's pipe had been dislodged. In fact he was pipeless. His eyes were filled with horror and he screamed in pain.
The blood continued gushing and splattering all over Joy's body and Bartholomew screamed and screamed.
"I'm going to kill you BITCH!"

.·.·.·.·.·
Oluchi panted as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She had just one thing on her mind: Get help!

The minute Joy had climbed in through the window, she had spent about 30 seconds panicking and shuffling her feet frantically before she turned and ran with no clear destination in her mind but she knew she had to get help.
At first she thought it was an illusion. She had to be dreaming-day dreaming. She could see the very people she hoped to find running towards her.
"Please... Come quick! Joy...Bartholomew..!" She panted.
But the young men ran past her with equal speed. Not even bothering to slow down.
"Oluchi! Where are you coming from? Where's my sister?" someone shouted
It was Amara. She was also running but couldn't keep up with Benedict and the rest. She had only stopped when she saw her friend.
"I was coming to get help..." Oluchi replied purposely avoiding the second question.
But Amara was persistent "where is Joy? You were together earlier"
Oluchi hesitated.
"Oluchi where's my sister?" Amara was beginning to panic.
"She...she's in the house...with-with Barth..."
"With Bartholomew...? You left her alone with that monster?!!"

.·.·.·.·.·
The monster in question was howling and shouting, screaming in pain. He looked down in horror at the empty space his blessed member was supposed to be and screamed more.
The bed sheet was quickly changing from white to a crimson colour and he suddenly had the burning crazy rage to spill Joy's blood.
Joy had scurried to the other end of the bed hurriedly. She was extremely disturbed by the sight and all the blood plus Bartholomew's wailing had disconcerted her. But still she knew her survival depended on her next action. She needed to act sharp. She had to escape.
She held the knife tightly in her hands and pointed the weapon at the pipeless monster.
"Don't come close...I'll stab-I'll kill you!"
Bartholomew stopped for a brief second but the pain and rage must have blinded his ability to think clearly.
He charged at Joy as she scrambled off the edge of the bed.

.·.·.·.·.·
Stevenson wondered who was shouting and screaming in Pa Kenneth's house. The voice sounded like whoever was behind it was very much in pain and it was very disturbing.
He held his notepad in his hand and his fountain pen.
Throughout his stay in Amaife, both Dé John and Dé Nwachukwu had spoken to him and given him priceless information and material for his book. Especially the former. Pa Kenneth however never seemed to have time for him. He was either too busy or not feeling too well.
Well that was going to change. Stevenson had woken up feeling strangely energized and refreshed. Talking to Amara about his murder charge had really done a lot to lift the burden off his shoulder. He felt lighter and he felt prepared to return home.
He was going to clear his name. But first he needed to make sure his book was complete. And he needed a lot of information from the number one leader himself.
He spent few minutes knocking the door without reply and he was ready to leave- had even turned, when he heard the first crazed shout.
Someone was in pain.
His first thought was to panic! Pa Kenneth was having a heart attack, the man was very old. But when the screaming continued, he discovered it belonged to a much younger person.
But who?
Did the person need help? He sounded like he did.
The door was locked and he curiously strolled round the house, peering into each window.

.·.·.·.·.·
Reverend Okorie led the way, but the minute they were out of the hospital he turned and regarded Dé John.
"Sir...I think you should be in front I have no idea what direction we're going"
"You don't need to cage me...you idiots! I'm not a criminal." Pa Kenneth snapped.
"Okay...you're right elder, don't be offended please lead the way" Dé John told his friend in the same calm and respectful voice he had used earlier.
"You...you especially. I'll make sure you regret this rubbish! This is same as mutiny!"
"With all due respect sir, your delay tactics isn't going to work, we are still going to get to your house no matter what. the best way to clear your name is to ensure we get there on time and then-" Gregory didn't get to finish his statement before the old man leaped on him with much force, surprising the slim young man and knocking him to the ground.
"Pa Kenneth! Elder! What has come over you?!" Dé John was shocked.
Pa Kenneth struggled with Greg who was unaccustomed to violence, but youth would always come out on top more often than not.
Before he was totally overpowered and when Reverend Okorie struggled to lift him off Greg, Pa Kenneth clamped his teeth round the young man's left ear (Gregory had rather large, satellite dish shaped ears) and he bit hard, drawing blood immediately.

.·.·.·.·.·
Maybe it was the sight of blood, maybe it was the fact that she had just sliced his manhood off, maybe it was the crazy shouts but suddenly Joy froze as Bartholomew charged at her shouting like a warrior.
He slapped the knife out of her hand and grabbed her neck, pushing her roughly to the ground.
A short scream escaped from her as she landed on the floor.

.·.·.·.·.·
The scream was what finally triggered Stevenson and swung him into action. He had been observing the broken window, stroking his jaw with a confused expression.
When he heard the scream however, he knew he had to act. Someone was under attack. He squeezed his broad frame through the window and was shocked to see Dé Nwachukwu knocked out cold on the floor. He saw another young man few feet away with a pestle beside his still body.
He took all these in under few seconds then he heard the words, an enraged scream "I'm going to kill you whore! You biitch!!"

The last time Stevenson had heard that statement, his wife had been raped and killed and he had been framed for the murder.
Suddenly he was back in Ukraine. In his Town house, with his briefcase in his hand filled with study and teaching materials.
He came home early for a quick lunch and was still planning to catch another class. Instead he had found the killer strangling his wife. He had been shot in the stomach and lay bleeding on the floor, helpless to do anything while his wife was murdered in cold blood before his very eyes.
But he wasn't going to cower this time. He wasn't going to cry and plead for his wife to be saved, no! He was going to fight!
He charged to the room. His second enraged personality, the Dr. Hyde in him, the part he tried so hard to hide. The side of him that had almost strangled the pastor a week ago. The part that had emerged when his wife had been killed and he lost it all.
Now like an eclipse, that side of him emerged and overshadowed his rational, jovial self.
He had just one thought: he was going to protect his wife.
Stevenson charged toward the room shouting. "You can't kill her! She's not a whôre! You WON'T kill her!!"
Joy feared she was going to be strangled to death.
She couldn't even afford to choke, Bartholomew's hands didn't give her the chance to.
He covered her throat and squeezed and squeezed, shouting incoherent words filled with hate and anger until she felt her eyes would pop out.
Suddenly Bartholomew released her, his crushing weight was lifted from her body and it took some seconds as her eyes began to adjust and she coughed like her lungs could pop out.
Stevenson hefted Bartholomew up. Lifted him high, above his head like a wrestler and with ease flung the devil across the room on the opposite wall.
Bartholomew howled as he struck the wall.
He blinked as surprise seemed to take over the rage but it was only for a second.
The knife had struck the wall when he slapped it earlier and it lay few inches away from his head. He picked it up and lunged at the European.
Stevenson also didn't look like he was himself and swung widely at Bartholomew and missed.
Bartholomew sunk the blade, aiming for Stevenson's chest but missing and striking the man's shoulder instead.
Joy scurried away, her survival tactics kicking in. She needed to get our of harm's way. Fast!
She had a feeling she wasn't safe in any of the men's presence. For one they both looked crazy and wild.
She hurried out of the room, grabbing her blouse that had been discarded, she threw it over her head in less than a second and rushed to kneel by her father's side and trying to nudge him awake as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Papa.. Dé please wake up"

.·.·.·.·.·
Stevenson glanced down at the knife which was buried to the hilt in his shoulder. He looked up at Bartholomew with a crazy smile on his lips.
He grabbed the man by his neck and pulled him towards him with force, at the same time using his head to strike Bartholomew as the man stumbled forward.
A crunching sound which had to be Bartholomew's nose breaking rung out in the surprisingly still room.
Bartholomew stumbled backwards due to the impact but Stevenson didn't let him fall, he pulled him back towards him and slammed his large white head into Bartholomew's face. Again and again, shouting as he did so:
"My wife...my wife is not a whore..! You can't kill her...you can't..you can't have her!!!"

.·.·.·.·.·
Joy felt her father stir and gave a sigh of relief.
"Papa...papa...get up we need to leave here" she shook her father frantically, urging him to wake up.
His eyes fluttered "aarrgh..." He touched his throat tenderly. It was red. He had almost been strangled to death and it stung him deeply.
Joy refused to contemplate the burning pain she was also going through. Each word felt like she was forcing a basketball down her throat but she had to speak.
"Dé..please get-"
The door suddenly crashed open, interrupting her as the lock was broken from the angry and determined force exhibited by the youths of Amaife.
Benedict rushed into the house followed by the youths who were in turn accompanied by their war chants.
"Jaja kere..kere..o..Kere o...ja ja kere!!!"
Benedict swung his rage filled eyes across the sitting room and his eyes rested on Dé Nwachukwu.
"Dé...what...where...?" He stammered
"He's in there" Joy replied pointing towards the room Bartholomew and Stevenson were locked in battle.
Benedict rushed into the room followed by a handful of youths.

.·.·.·.·.·
"Ouch...ouch...he bit my ear off...he bit my ear" Gregory shouted in pain as Reverend Okorie and Dé John wrestled Pa Kenneth from him.
"Elder at this point I believe you are guilty as charged! Shame on you sir!" Dé john shouted at his friend.
Gregory's ear was still intact but it was bleeding profusely.
"Fuck you idiot!" PA Kenneth replied. He sounded angry and didn't seem to care to insist on his innocence anymore. "You're very lucky your daughter went to school in the west if not I would have sodomised her...foolish man!"
Dé john's jaw hung open. He was stunned.

Reverend Okorie had been observing the banter between the old men and when Dé John seemed incapable to come up with a suitable retort but continued to look at the older man with his eyes wide and mouth open, the Reverend took charge. "Okay, that's enough...Dé please let's continue with where we are going"
"Yes please...do let's" Pa Kenneth replied waving cheerfully at the surprised passersby who stood staring at the group of men, probably wondering why their honourable elder was involved in a tussle with the young man.
Pa Kenneth led the way with a sly smile on his lips that immediately got Reverend Okorie worried.
He looked at Gregory whose shirt collar had been stained with his blood. And thought what a bloody day it was.

.·.·.·.·.·
When the butcher stormed into the room, Stevenson had already caused enough damage to Bartholomew.
The man's face was unrecognizable and the European continued striking with his head.
"It's okay...it's okay" Benedict ordered.
Stevenson didn't reply.
"Heey! I said its enough...we're taking him to the market square!"
Two young men held Stevenson and refrained him, causing Bartholomew to fall lifelessly to the floor.
Stevenson at first tried to fight the men.
"Where's my wife!" He demanded
"What...who is your wife?" Benedict asked wondering why the man looked so crazed.
Slowly Stevenson seemed to regain himself and he blinked and shook his head. But Benedict's attention had been shifted to Bartholomew.
"Youths of Amaife! The man who has terrorized and killed our women...here he is! We are going to drag him round the village and to the market square...he would be executed like the dog he is!"
"Yeeeeeee!!" The men chorused their agreement.
One of them ripped the curtain and it was tied to Bartholomew's legs. The man was naked with only a ripped and blood stained singlet on his body and if any of the men noticed his manhood was missing, they didn't say a word.
The youths continued their chanting as they left the house, dragging the semi conscious Bartholomew behind.

.·.·.·.·.·
Paul was just stirring awake when Amara and Oluchi got to the house.
Oluchi hurried to her brother's side worriedly "big brother...brother...Paul...oh my God are you okay?"
"Yes..I'm fine..please check on Sofiri...he saved me"
Oluchi hurried to Bartholomew's younger brother and felt for his pulse.
She got none.
"I think...I think he's dead" she announced.
"What..." Amara was shocked.
She looked up from where she sat hugging Joy and shook her head sadly.
She desperately wished it wasn't true.
How sad it would be, if in a fit of rage, Bartholomew murdered his own brother.