Shouts of 'O ti tan', 'O ti ku' filled the air as Awwal passed the front of a house where a man struggled with his I better pass my neighbour Tiger generator which went on and off hence the 'o ti tan, o ti ku' from his child who peeped through the window of the first room by the left where the curtain was slightly shifted.

He unconsciously grinned forgetting the situation he had put himself in.

That was how Prof, one of their neighbours, fairly used Yamaha generator set did too.

At first, the other neighbours complained of the noise and Chinelo complained of the fume which passed through her window because the gen was placed close to it, but when EKEDC refused to provide power supply for almost a year, they stopped the complaints and charged their phones and rechargeable lamps whenever the generator was on.

Fear vibrated through his body when he remembered that he had done something insane.

He did not know what came over him when he told Leke that he wanted to join the Black Disciples gang- one of the gangs known for its notoriety and recklessness in Ajcity.

"You declined when I told you about it one time so are you really sure?" Leke peered at his friend who looked like he already made up his mind.

"I am sure Leke, I want power. I like the respect you get when you walk on street. I do not want to be respected anymore because I walk with you, I want to be respected and feared because I am a member of your gang,"

Aeroplane, father aeroplane×2

I want to be a banker, aeroplane,

I want to be a lawyer, aeroplane,

Father, like this, like this, like this...

He looked at the kids who wholeheartedly play the game.

A sad smile crept up his face when he remembered that he was once a kid who sang that song with enthusiasm.

He had strongly despised boys who caused ruckus in the neighborhood and had avoided them but, he was almost one of them-it was just a matter of time.

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.

Ash-hadu alla ilaha illa-llah.

Ash-hadu anna Muhammadar-Rasulullah.

Hayya 'ala-s-Salah, hayya 'ala-s-Salah...

The Iqamah, the second call to Islamic prayer which signalled that it was time for Salaat Magrib to commence blared from the speaker attached to the side of the mosque's roof and it brought him out of his thoughts.

He trudged to the small mosque beside a green two-storey building and went in there with the intention to pray .

He got to the ablution section for male and as he turned the tap on, the tears came down.

What have I gotten myself into? He asked himself.

He had stopped praying ever since he started smoking weed because he thought God was not ready to help him out, he performed ablution with tears in his eyes hoping that God would help him this time.

The moment he stepped into the mosque with his right foot, his heart churned in fear, he withdrew his foot as if he just stepped on hot charcoal.

He was scared to step in and stood there watching them pray. Somehow, he felt, he did not belong here.

"Asalam Alaykum, please step aside. You are blocking the way,"a man probably in his early thirties said impatiently because the Imam was already on the second rakkah.

"I'm sorry", he apologised and left without praying the Salaat he performed ablution for.

The man who was impatient at first was now calm and looked at Yasir's retreating figure.

Did he not come to pray?, he wondered.

"Allahu Akbar,"the Imam said.

Immediately, the man sprinted to join the congregation, if he missed the ruku of the second rakkah, he would have missed two rakkahs instead of one.

****

"Eeeeeee!! Dem done come again o! Chineke!" Chinelo shouted as she got to the the house beside theirs.

"What happened?" Grandma, the landlady who sat amidst few of her tenants asked.

"Those useless boys have started fighting o. They have packed all the crates of bottles in front of iya Tito's shop. Everywhere has scattered,"Chinelo rushed to her own house.

Without any further delay, Grandma and her tenants ran inside and locked the main door.

Thankfully, there was nobody outside when she got to her own house so Chinelo bolted the main door too.

"Mama Chisom, Why did you lock the door?"Prof. clad in a navy blue shorts and white top asked.

"Prof, dem don dey fight o," Chinelo shouted.

"Ah, for where you see dem?" Prof, for the first time, spoke pidgin since he moved in.

Chinelo laughed. "So, you sabi pidgin. You now lied that you can not speak it abi ?"

Prof eyed her and went into his room, he had lied about his inability to speak and understand pidgin and his neighbours believed because he wanted to class himself.

He knew Chinelo will definitely let others know when the fight was over.

"Everybody, dem don dey fight," Chinelo shouted again to get her neighbours attention.

The other neighbours except Prof rushed out to the already dark hallway and Chinelo told them the same thing she told grandma and others.

Prof heaved a sigh of relief when he did not hear her gist them about him.

*****

Dawood and Aminah sat on the foam, the boys sat on the bare floor while the girls sat on one of the sofas.

Dawood rested his head on the wall. "Sometimes, I wonder if those boys have parents at home. They are just heartless,"

"Some of them definitely have parents who gave them good upbringing but children of nowadays are something else," Aminah piped in.

Awwal squirmed at the truth but did not understand why he was suddenly proud of his gang, the fear in his mind was gone and he just could not wait for his initiation and the next operation.

Qoyyum's heart started beating erratically, as he realized that he was one of those boys his parents talked about, he had done something a well-trained child should not do.

"You are right, besides, the least we can do is train them and leave the rest to God," Dawood concurred.

"May our children be the coolness of our eyes,"

"Amin,"

They never knew the prayer came a little bit late- poor parents.

"Awwal, I noticed you have not been praying well lately and whenever I ask you, you would come up with flimsy excuses. What's going on?" Dawood stared at his son who looked like he was thinking about something he would not disclose to anyone.

Awwal swallowed. "Nothing sir, I was just distracted, nothing else,"

Qoyyum looked at his brother and wished he could help but he also had a problem to deal with.

"Ok, I understand but you have to make your faith in Allah strong and everything will be okay for you. Hmm?"

"Yes dad, thank you sir", Awwal released the breath he never knew he was holding.

To him, his dad was the architect of his misfortune, if he had agreed that he pursued his dream of being a sculptor, he wouldn't have joined any gang.

To all the ghost readers🤣, thank you♥️. To all readers of SIS, I hope you haven't given up yet😏?

Maybe, our Awwal would have been a successful sculptor if his dad had encouraged him💔

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