Friend of mine by T.

Dube
CAPITAL BANK ROBBERIES GUNNED DOWN, informed the informant. I looked down to
the deeply astonished face, watched the crystal liquid flowing like water. Just like River Jordan
singing, she was really facing the music. Honestly, I could not find a tissue on me in as much as I
tried. I used to be good at bringing hope back to life when it was dead, but this time I only managed
to catch up with mixed feelings. What is beating, I probed in disbelief. Of course, she could not
open her mouth. I confess, my head was now brainwashed with all due respect. Terribly, rescue
was nearly too far and my clock was ticking.
Crimes had crippled the town in the midst of hyperinflation, frustrated environment. Tragedy was
hanging loosely above the law. Economic turmoil and tripled crimes emerged as a new perfect
combination in Kwekwe town. Outlaws accustomed to kick backs, as the new norm. The worst
annoyance ever seen in a local newspaper was the cartooned pure joke of the judge and the
accomplished murder accomplice enjoying dinner together. HOW TO GET AWAY WITH
MURDER, was the headline. Many thanks to civilization, otherwise havoc would have taken its
tour. The picture was the story untold. Constables law breaking on road blocks, with some guilty
officers suffering lost job on limited cases. Viral corruption jumped up, too high, from petty to
grand. Undisputedly, the grand challenge was to eradicate the disease. Law enforcement had
never been this corrupt, my mothers oldest could say.
Tinos dream, a good friend of mine was to reach the final grade. Apparently, at tenth grade, he
dropped out of school to security guarding. His father had lost life to rotten liver and the fiscal
stance could not grant welfare to a widow. Most of the deal could have gone a long while to the
child. I still stood by his side. Here goes Tino unemployed. The company downsized to his
detriment. To him, money chasing became one thing that really mattered the most. He did not need
a passionate friend anymore. He was slowly entertaining the spirit of friends with money. The root
of all evil, the bible could say. But where to get wisdom? Fellowship was the teenagers hunger
unfelt. The pastors love did not show up. Compassion and love was a demonstration to be seen if
that was possible. Unfortunately, the teachings of Jesus on a mountain, missed him.
Mbizo streets, rather became manipulating. Almost every corner was a crew of corrupted minds.
So this was him indulging in alcoholism and smoking the stress. There was literally no substance
he could think of not attempting. It was quite clear that healthy was at risk. As months passed by,
he found himself hanging with bad company. Complete chaos found its way through his life. I
even tried to warn him on several occasions, but I could not change the color. Violent crime
became a lifestyle he never dreams of, but a nightmare in broad day. Sooner, Tino, marked his
very first crime. At eighteen the convicted was knocking the adulthood door with a black criminal
record. The black man was smelling crime. The charges were associated with women harassment
to which he was discharged with a fine. Somehow, he never learned. Ignorance was at bliss, while
the ground was taking a fade. So what were the kids to learn now? What sort of like a black ship?
So the social molding missed him too? Law abiding, responsible citizens would wonder. Not to
put the rest of the weight upon his shoulder, he was under the influence and psychologically
depending.

Deadly disappointed was Tinos mother. A woman of respected personality and rare character.
Literally, everyone in the neighborhood honored her. She was just a rare breed. Only a heart attack
was the suspect to separate the world from her good heart. Forever, a useful for future breeding
would not have to be forgotten. Her off springs remained still yet to be picked out until yet another
young cheerful lady by the name Tasha descended down to earth. She looked very alike to the
parenting flower. An identical coming yet from different genes. This was just beyond genetics. A
welcome to life beyond book to those who live by book.
One Sunday, I met Tino on my morning run, just by accident. I definitely stopped by. Pray for
me my friend, I have got a critical mission tonight, I will tell you about it later, he requested. I
could not understand a non-believer requesting for the love of the Messiah. I could see the blood
of a warrior inside his eyes. I looked the devil in the eye and organized crime was my opinion. I
love you my brother, he added. I could also not understand the love of a highly anticipated killer
with a pistol possession on himself. Whether to accept or renege was a matter of fact. What do you
say to a good friend who had just pleaded? Passion too strong, I promised to stand by his side till
its death.
The next morning, I found the cheerful and lovely face mourning. That was the only moment that
I missed the beautiful and gorgeous Miss Daisy. I bet she had come to fully convince herself, deep
inside her heart of the picture of a real criminal inside her son. My heart started pounding and the
pulse on my wrist rated even higher. I still sat beside her at the door steps, so close to her like a
relative as she wiped the plenty tears. She could not spit a word as her mouth had completely ran
dry like a desert. Just by luck, the newspaper came through my sight. With a frustrated mind, the
headline had me gone for some few seconds or even minutes, I cannot guarantee. I was convinced
too is my confession. And only a peaceful mind could see the coincidence in the name of the
deceased accomplice is the morale of the testimony.