Chapter 8

        It was around 11:20pm. Fèmi was lying on the floor in his street, his home just a few blocks away. He had been badly banged up, thank God it wasn't critical wounds. He was still taking his time to realize what had just happened when one of the neighborhood elders noticed him. Immediately, he ran to him and came to his assistance. Fèmi was bleeding from some wounds he had sustained. The young man carrying him finally managed to take him home.

        His mother went into a state of shock when she saw her son in such a state. It was a terrible blow for Fèmi. His father had died when he was 3. He was part of a large team of journalists. One day, returning from an assignment, he and his team had been involved in a traffic accident between a truck and their car. They were 5 of them on board, and Fèmi's father was the only one to die. The others were rushed to hospital and, as their injuries were not critical, they managed to escape with only minor after-effects.

        Fèmi's childhood had been very difficult, and at times he could barely find enough to eat with his mother. It didn't take long for his late father's family to reject him and his mother. They were totally indifferent to what might happen to them in the future. Little by little, Fèmi's mother was able to offer them a life that got better and better. They were no longer down to less than one meal a day, but still had a few other priorities to alleviate. Years later, suffering from a terrible loneliness, Fèmi's mom Mrs. Jasmine had finally decided to remake her love life. She had fallen under the spell of a forwarding agent at the autonomous port of Cotonou. This gentleman succeeded in filling the void left by the absence of Fèmi's father, and without any difficulty, he also succeeded in filling the lack of a father that his wife's child, Fèmi, was suffering from.

       Fèmi loved this man so much. He had been there for him, taken him in like a son, educated him and taught him almost everything he knew. This man had shown him the path to take in life and was a true source of inspiration for him. He was his superhero, even though they didn't share the same blood.

        The motorcycle that had just been taken from him was in fact the motorcycle of Mr. Vigan, his stepfather and his mother's husband. He was also the father of her little sister Vignilé.

        Not everything was clear to Fèmi. He still had trouble grasping what had happened. His mother let him in and thanked the young man who had helped him so much. Fèmi lay down on the sofa in the living room and his mother returned with some bandage kits.

- Ms. Jasmine: What happened to you, my darling ? Did you get hit in any sensitive places ?

- Fèmi: No, Mum, don't worry, no vital organs were hit.

- Ms. Jasmine: Are you sure ? Take off your shirt and I'll make sure.

        Fèmi wanted to resist, but immediately his mother had put her hand under his T-shirt and started to pull it off. "Leave it mom, I'll take care of it," he whispered in a very weak voice.

        His mother discovered her son's bleeding torso. He had a few tears and his right foot was swollen. He'd managed to keep his phone in his pocket since he'd fallen off with the motorcycle during the attack. His phone was in the jeans he was wearing, and he couldn't remember exactly what happened next. All he remembered was that he started limping, supported by a young man. Which young man, he couldn't remember.

        Madam Jasmine tended to her son's wounds. She chatted with him as she tended to him, and in the end gave him something to eat and a few tablets to ease his pain.

        She picked up his phone and told him to go to bed immediately. He needed to rest and recuperate. Fèmi didn't hesitate. In any case, knowing his mother, she was uncompromising about her decisions. Fèmi hurried off to bed and, with difficulty, made his way to his room. He felt like a boxer coming out of the ring after a long fight.

        Shola, for her part, had left tons of messages for Fèmi. When she didn't get a reply, she thought maybe he was angry about what had happened at the show with Sègla. Tired as she was of all that had happened at the party, it didn't take her long to fall asleep.

        The next morning, Fèmi woke up to find his cell phone had been left beside him. "Thanks mummy," he whispered agonizingly to himself. It was almost 9am. So he'd spent around 8 hours asleep. It was early morning, the coolness felt in the room despite the fact that he still had his blanket over him. Now he was feeling real aches and pains all over his body. Some images of the evening were coming back to him now. He took off the blanket, put his feet on the ground and, before picking up his cell phone, he put his hands together, closed his eyes and prayed to God. It was the first thing he did every morning when he woke up, but that day he took longer than usual in his prayer. While he had reason to be angry with all the world, especially God, he took almost all the time in prayer to thank God, praise him and bless him. He had made more thanksgiving than requests for the day.

        About twenty minutes later, he began to search his cell phone. He noticed that the screen had had a crack leaving the lower left corner to the right side a little higher up. He read Shola's messages and the few others he'd received. Shola had left him 6 unanswered messages: 4 last night and 2 this morning. He replied to Shola and briefly explained what had happened. He then brushed his teeth and took a shower before joining his mother in the living room at the breakfast table. His mother inquired about his state of health and announced that she had come to see him early this morning, but that he was still asleep, and that she hadn't wanted to wake him. Fèmi assured her that he was doing much better. He asked about his sister Vignilé, who was still asleep in his mother's room. His mother gave him some more medicine to take.

        A few minutes later, Fèmi got up and headed for the living room sofas. He had decided to spend the whole day in front of the TV, needing affection and company for the first time. He hardly ever left his room, but here he was, lying on the living room's main sofa, scrolling through the channels in search of a program that would interest him.