a section of the akodi orisa



“The Police Area Commander (AC) is interested in the case,” a police officer with a cellphone said. “He just called to say that he is now at his seat, and wants to see all of you in his office.” The AC’s office was about one hundred meters across the yard, from where we were seated. We all filed into the AC’s office. He was seated, and his large desk was decorated with pictures, flags and small objects with personal sentimental values. He was a handsome middle-aged man who seemed rather too pleasant looking to be a police officer. Not until he stood up did I realize that his gait was forward-leaning, with the robust physique of a football tackler. You wouldn’t want to be in his way despite his handsome mien.

He asked us to be seated. He wanted me to introduce myself and after I did, he said he did not want a long statement. He had seen the pictures and videos, he said, and in his own opinion, the building reminded him of the time when he was a child growing up in the village, and adobe houses were everywhere. He did not see anything diabolic in the architecture, but he also understood that some people complained and wanted a clear explanation about the functions of the building. He would not be surprised to see the press flocking to the police station for information, before long. He needed to be able to assure them that the public was in no danger. He just wanted me to leave a statement of about a page to explain that the architecture was nothing for people to be afraid of, and I was free to go.

We all went back to the room where we were all gathered at first. A police officer tore a page off the official booklet, and asked me to fill the page with personal information as required, and then provide a statement describing me, and why I was constructing the building. I did. The chairman of the complainants also left a sheet with some information on police documents, but not before vigorously shaking my hands and assuring me that I was welcome to the community and all the misunderstanding was now over. With my supporters, I left the police station, still trying to analyze the rhythm and rhyme of the entire drama of this plot to arrest the building.

Interested in some of my published works?

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply