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Frederick Kwesi Great Agboletey

Glasgow, Scotland

Just another Idle Place

A small town situated at the outer edges of a water sodden marsh, less than a
dozen junctions all turning into narrow alleys ending in a cul de sac, a run
through road that cuts through the middle of a few earthen brick houses and a
an old dilapidated gas station, a police station, a bar next to a shop where the
men gather to slack their evening thirst with a few chilled beers or some local
brew strong enough to knock over an ox. On a sunny day it has its attraction as
every isolated small town, as every old cemetery in the sunlight on some
forgotten trail, like every other next to dead small town scattered in the vast
landscapes of forgotten places all over the world. When dusk and heavy weather
dispels that allusion of quiet appeal only then do such places truly come into
their own nature. For these are truly, verily, darkest isolated places with a
collective conscience of sin heavily laden.

There is always a mainstay activity maybe farming or fishing, there is one


significant person in town, who has collection of hardened souls clinging on to
his good will and one or few quiet rebels. There seems to be one of just about
every social liability you can conjure, mention one ill trait and you will have a
finger pointed at someone.

This little town is just like any of those and the secrets that hides within it are no
different from what human fear, greed, failure and mistakes have made. Acts of
misjudgement and regrettable decisions, that have gradually built themselves
into a bogey man creeping from under their collective conscience once the
darkness of human angst takes hold from the short respites of sunlight.

I decided to spend some weeks while back home from London job in my
hometown of Anloga, a small town along the Atlantic coastline of West
Africa. I travelled with a good friend. The village itself was a quiet place
set between the lagoon and the Atlantic. For the villagers life consisted of
primary occupation of fishing and farming, some fished the sea others
preferred the lagoon. For us, on a visit we immersed ourselves in the slow
tempo of rural life. Our house, my grandmother’s house was located along
a path frequented by those going to and from the beach, over the next
few days we had in a typical true holiday manner filled our fridge with
beer and made sure we had assorted gin and the odd whisky to get us in
preferred holiday mood.

A typical day would start at 11am when the fisher folk were returning with
the early morning catch, we would purchase some sizeable fishes at what
we considered to be very cheap prices, I had a knack for turning a dish or

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two and as time passed we had made a few friends among both sellers
and neighbours who will with timely precision drift towards our cosy
veranda, where there was always drink on offer and food to share with
those who decide to eat.

We made the usual tour of what little there was that passed for a
commercial centre and once we had sated our curiosity it was only natural
that we began as normal young men to sniff around for ladies to
complement our holiday activities. There is a little call centre a couple of
miles down the road from our place, right in front of the local secondary
school, we would normally pass by every now and then to surf the net on
the slow telephone line and in due course realised there was the chance
of meeting the odd pretty student who we could chat up, we made it part
of our routine.

This particular day as we strolled into the communication centre we met a


new shop assistant, a young lady whose looks melted my heart and took
my senses away, I guess the Sicilians call it the lightning bolt, only it
seems the storm of emotional turmoil was active only in my imagination.
As I gained a sense of control and with a tremulous voice engaged her in
meaningless conversation, my friend as usual was constantly interrupting
with snippets of news that he had gleaned from Google or some other
news website. After about an hour of listing in the premises my friend not
finding anything of additional interest decided to call it a day and head
home for lunch.

Needless to say, once I had managed to get the young lady to open up to
me, I had no interest other than to remain in her world and with her. In
retrospect, it is rather interesting how many times a love-struck young
man will find himself laughing uproariously at meaningless information
and made believe tales of mundane life experiences, however, all I knew
this very fine day was that by 5 pm I was floating in a haze of brain
induced hormones with strong primal needs for mating barely subdued.
As it happened and always does happens in such situations customer flow
to the communication centre that day was a treacle and she very much
preferred or so I thought the company of a handsome young man with
tales local and foreign to keep her company rather than lolling around till
her shift came to an end at 7pm.

“So, what do you intend to do after your shift ends?”

“What I always do, find a cab home and get some rest”

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“That is all, must be pretty boring”
“You could say that but I am a working girl, besides there is very little to
do around these parts”

“I couldn’t agree with you more on that, it is pretty slow and I and my
friend just find ourselves gaining weight lazing around”
Well, you guys deserve it after all that is what holidays are about”

“Yeah, some holiday”

She smiled and I was transported immediately to the Louvre in Paris,


where I had travelled some time last year as part of team of London
Transport workers to see among other great work’s Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa,
here right in front of me was a beauty so sublime, of a tropical genesis,
not tearing my heart but melting it in a gooey smile, I could hardly feel
my legs. My hands held to that counter as though it were a life buoy to a
drowning man. I just had to connect one way or another to this prime
beauty of the coast.

“So, what do you say, how about after work we do something?”

“What will that be exactly?”

“Maybe we could go watch a movie”

“You really have no idea about these areas do you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“To go watch a movie we have to go to another town and then it is only a


video theatre”

She looked at me through that smile again

“Well, I don’t have anything to do so I could walk you home when your
shift ends...?”

“You could, only like I said earlier I have to take a cab home, which means
travelling to the next town down the road, about ten kilometres or more”
“Well, then, we can share a cab, it would be nice to see how your town
compares to this village”

“Then you would be in a for a surprise, it is pretty much the same only
smaller and without a communication centre”

So the time passed and before long we were in a raggedy old cab shaking
violently down the wind swept coastal road.

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Now, at this point it would be ideal to give you a picturesque insight to the
locality where the events to be detailed were unfolding. The area is a
coastal strip between a massive lagoon and the deep blue Atlantic, a
typical rural area where several small towns stretched along both sides of
the main trunk road. Its only appeal to visitors, like me, is the beautiful
beach and the slow tandem of life. Under normal circumstances a
wonderful place to spend a relaxing holiday. By its rural nature, it
becomes very quite early in the evening given that the electricity supply
was not the most reliable. Besides not all areas have a connection to the
national grid. Now, on moonless nights it could become very dark and
disorienting if you were not local and how easily so I was soon to
appreciate.

By the time we had alighted at the main junction leading to the little, but
very ancient settlement of Woe, it was dark, as we walked what seemed
to be the fifteen minutes from the roadside towards her dwelling place, it
had become very dark, and it happened to be a moonless night. I could
see a few scattered lights indicating houses as we walked hand in hand
down the path, there were a lot of trees lining the path leading to her
house. Huge shady trees that I believe will make for shady and pleasant
path in the hot afternoons, now they obscured whatever little light was
available from the open heavens.

“Now, that is my house up ahead.”


I could see nothing as my eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden intense
darkness.

“I see”
“My father is a very severe type and he might react negatively to my
coming home with a male friend this time of the evening”
“Okay, I can understand that, I know that anal retentive type”
“Hey! We are talking about my father here, besides it may have to do
with the fact that he was a quarter master in the army, now pensioned
and with not much to occupy him, he is a real lion when it comes to me”

“Well” I replied timidly

“Daddy’s girl! You are the apple of your daddy’s eye and I guess I would
protect you with as much fierceness. These southern types are known to
be fiercely protective of their daughters and given your looks I guess
there is every reason for that”

“I see, and what about my looks?”

“No, you don’t want me to start down that path, I am a vividly graphic
when it comes to capturing beauty in words”

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“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic, indulge me”

“Alright I’ll regale you of how poetic your beauty is once we find a
comfortable place to sit”

“Okay, let me go home and change and I will come back to accompany
you to the main road so you can return home”

“What about doing something tonight?”

“There will be enough time in due course, besides its Saturday tomorrow”

“Okay as usual the woman is right, you ski home, change and come see
me to the main road, it’s kind of very dark here”

“You get used to it”

She melted into the darkness and I took out my iPhone to inform my
friend that I would be home soon. I tried a few times but there was no
connection. Hmm. I knew if I did not reach him soon he will become
excessively worried. When I called to inform him earlier at the
communication centre that I would be taking the new girl home, for some
reason he sounded very uncomfortable with the idea, he emphasised that
he had a bad feeling about it. It was very unusual of him to come forth so
negatively but a potential “adventure”, in any case I was in no mood to be
dissuaded from that. Given the uneventfully nature of our retiring village
holiday.

For a while a kept myself occupied by playing a game on the mobile, I


must admit that I must have been so engrossed in the game because
when I came to, the battery had run down and the light glimmered on the
screen dimly and then went off.

I wondered how long I had been waiting for the young lady to return and
lead me back to the main road. I looked around me and realised with a
sickening feeling in my stomach that now that the cell phone light had
gone off, I was in total darkness; I could not even see my hands before. It
was just pitch dark. I shivered a little as the night air licked my neck
above the collar line of my shirt.

I looked up in the direction that she indicated was her dwelling place, all
ahead, there was only a dense, quiet and cold silence, nothing in sight,
not even a glimmer of the isolated hurricane lamp to indicate a hut or
house. After a while with no one passing all this while, I began in a very
disquieting manner to experience the night environment, sudden sound of
noise far in the branches above and a stiffening of the breeze just enough

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to make it uncomfortable. I might have been standing under that tree for
more than an hour I assumed, I said to myself if she does not come in the
next few minutes I just have to go. I looked in the direction from which we
had come; all I could see was a dense darkness of impenetrable liquidity.
There was no distinction between path and surrounding swampy ground.
My heart quickened as it suddenly dawned on me that is she did not come
back I might have to stand there all night since the nature of the darkness
was so disorienting that I might end up loosing direction altogether.
Another part of me told me that surely she would return. It was a part of
me that I was later to rue with regret incomparable.

At this point it began to dawn on me that I was in a precarious state, a


state of inanity altogether incomparable and how predictably so. I could
no longer remain standing on my aching legs and I did not need any
additional signs to tell me that I had been abandoned by a girl I barely
knew under a grove of trees in a village somewhere between Keta and
Anloga. An area, that had reputation for unsavoury deeds.

As I stood there uncertain, coupled with my friend’s sense of being


uncomfortable about my little adventure, a few stories began to roll
through my mind. There were stories told in hushed tones of several
bodies being found totally drained of blood along this length of beach.

A recall of a particularly harrowing tale of a young taxi driver who picked


a beautiful lady very, very late one evening thinking she might have been
coming from a wake, he suddenly experienced a sudden temperature
drop in the cab as he passed by a local cemetery reputed for haunting
and looking into the rear-view mirror saw no one else in the cab but a
mist dispersing…. These were just the kind of things one does not bother
or desire to recall in a situation that was fast becoming climactically
extreme.

As I wondered what do next, hoping that just about anyone would pass by
so I could follow them back to the man road, it became prescient that not
for the many hours that I had been waiting for the young lady whose
beauty had dispelled in my mind to all kinds of horrific images had a
single soul passed by in either direction. No sooner had the though
occurred to me than I heard or imagined a heard a deep sigh barely a foot
from my ears. The next thing I knew I had dashed away from under the
trees and tried following the direction the girl had disappeared into. As a
moved on legs of winds, I saw that a few hundred meters there were signs
of houses, in one long head rush I made for the first gate, and pounded as
hard as I could. By the third pounding it was obvious that I had attracted
attention for a heard a mighty voice roar from within

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“Who are you and what are do you want”

I did not bother to respond but pounded ever harder, through the
adrenaline rush, I could feel my bones hitting hardwood and skin breaking
on my knotted hands.

“I have a double barrel gun and I will not hesitate to shoot”

I pounded eve harder.

The gate cracked a few inches and I was blinded by the hurricane lamp
swinging between the opening at eye level. Just knowing that there was
another man behind that gate albeit an unfriendly man calmed me down
a tempo and I felt a sense of relief, even though a guarded one.

“Who are you and what are doing so late in the night pounding on my
gate?”

“I am from Anloga, well, spending holidays there…”

I could distinctly see the light reflect on the barrel of the gun.

“I say, what are you doing banging on my gate, are you one of those
robbers terrorising the locality?”

“I believe you are, look whoever you are I am going to blow you off if you
don’t come clear!”

“No, I was waiting for a friend called Annie who left me standing for hours
over there, by the road side…”

“Annie!” he shouted surprised.

“Yes, Annie who works at the communication centre right in front of the
secondary school, do you know her?”

“Do I know her, she is my daughter, but who are you and what do you
have to do with daughter?”

He cocked the rifle and dropped the hurricane lamp at his feet. His voice
was a powerful stentorian blast, that luckily caused more persons to
awaken from the house and a few neighbours began appearing outside
their walls with lamps.

A few of the women folk quickly appreciating the nature of the situation
appealed for a calming down on the part of the angry father and to permit
me to make my case.

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Now it is to be understood that this is a traditional locality and once they
had assured themselves that they do not have to resort to desperate
measures to rid themselves of a thief, late as the hour was, they were
settling into their inquisitive nature to critically review the situation and
then decide on a course of action. I quickly presented the bare nature of
how being new in the area, met and had a pleasant interaction with
Annie, who all this time had yet to make an appearance, and having
waited for longer than was excusable had forced my hands to disturb their
peace.

“You certainly are disturbing young man, who in his right senses will
remain under those trees at 1 am waiting for a lady?”

A matronly type interjected.

I was beyond fear and realising the foolishness of my situation asked

“Well, so where is Annie, at least she should have the courtesy of


confirming my story”

“If we are speaking about the same Annie, well she returned from work
much earlier in the evening and then departed to spend the night with her
fiancée”

The matronly typed replied again.

“So what I am I supposed to do?”

“You should have thought of that before you set off, asking us that
question this time of the night seems unreasonable”

The man with the double barrel interjected.

“If it is possible, I may have to spend the evening here and leave early in
the morning given that it is late and I can hardly find my way back to the
main road”

“We don’t think that is advisable” interjected the matronly figure,

“Your story maybe true but you are still an unknown to us, we don’t think
we can host you”

“At best we can escort you and point you in the direction of the main
road, hopefully, you may catch a bus back to your residence”

He who spoke knew and I knew that there was not a dog’s chance of
public transport or any form of transport plying this rural road at this time
of the night. They wanted to get me out of their midst and return to their

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beds and so I acquiesced and requested to be accompanied to the main
road after apologising for disturbing their peace.

Three men from the house hold escorted me and after a quiet brisk walk
with lights barely marking the path brought me to a junction and to my
relief once out from the trees that lined the path, it was possible by star
light to see straight ahead the main road far ahead. They wished me good
luck and good bye and turned back to their homes.

I walked briskly towards the main road. All was very quiet this time of
night, an eerie intense quietness, with nary a sound. As I broached the
main road, its emptiness, in both directions amplified the unusual hour
and its midnight desolation.

I started walking in direction of my village, one thing I knew for sure was it
was a long distance by foot and chances of a vehicle passing by at this
time of the night were next to zero.

It was not as dark as under those massive trees, but what little light the
stars above enabled emphasised the emptiness of the straight trunk road.

I might have been walking for about thirty minutes or so, when I felt a
pervasive smell of old earth, a thick, heavy sludgy assault on my nostrils
no sooner had I began to wonder about that earthy smell of something
very old and decaying that I felt what sounded like flapping wings of a
huge bird to my right on the opposite side of the road, I instinctively
turned 75 degrees while still walking fairly briskly, I stumbled on a
projecting piece of asphalt and as I tried regaining balance, I glimpsed
what seemed to be a bulky figure seemingly gliding or walking at an
equally brisk pace, given the uncertainty of everything and my state of
mind, which was not what I will call sturdy, no sooner had I regained my
steadiness than I burst into a fast clip of a run.

The wind rushed past and after a few hundred metres my heart felt like
bursting through my chest, I could hardly breathe, each breathe was a
torturous wrenching pain bursting through my heaving chests. I gradually
began trotting rather than dashing down the street in full flight.

Far ahead, it seemed like a light was moving up and down the street, then
several balls of light appeared about a kilometre’s distance, dashing in
fairly irregularly patterns of movement. It was bit further down the road,
these balls of light, but they were in my path, sooner or later I was going
to meet them headlong. I only hoped it was locals out heavens know for
what purpose at this time of the night.

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There were houses set a few meters away from the road interspersed by
open spaces that led to the lagoon, through those open spaces a stiff,
cold breeze was blowing that chilled the sweat on my skin to a clammy
cold disquiet.

As I proceeded down the road, I was furtively looking for a house with
lights on that I would knock at and explain my situation asking for a place
to sit until morning. I came under a few trees lining the road again, no
sooner had I entered their canopy than I felt a strange explosion of
brilliant lights. It was as though I could see through the canopy to an
unusual sky where balls of light were descending with a swishing wheeze
to explode with massive force into the canopy above. I was so surprised
by the unusual scene that I coherently wondered how I could see this
brilliant display of exploding stars through the canopies. If I had any
intentions of pausing to research the unusual scenario that vanished even
before the thought coalesced, I clearly heard laughter all around me and
that was it, I increased my speed, limping precariously and swaying with
what was by all intents total madness inspired by fear.

When I next could discern a state of reasoning I was clearly shouting


aloud Psalm 91 time after time, whatever, its effects on my mental state,
it allowed me to continue staggering down the trunk road in an
uncoordinated exhausted gallop of sorts. I had thrown care to the winds
and was intent on self-protection at this point. Far ahead I saw a weak
electric bulb hanging over a shop front; I was determined to knock on the
house next to the shop, since there was sure to be someone at home who
will respond. As I crossed over to the shop I realised that it was a
carpentry shop that sold coffins, the irony was not lost on me, adjoining
the shop was a small house with its from door open to the space before
the trunk road. I hammered on its door with all the strength of fiendish
fear. An elderly woman’s voice responded from within

”Evil spirits move on down the road, there is nothing for you here…”

I was stunned by the words coming from within, so stunned that I paused
and instead of responding to the fear speaking from within, I pounded
ever harder.

“Shoo, shoo, move on, you have no room among the living, move on…”

I could not take this drivel any longer

“I am a human, open the door immediately!”

There was a short silence from within

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“Well, if you are a human what are you doing out at this time of the
night?”

“Open the door and I would tell you…”


“What is your name and where do you come from?”

“My name is Marcie and I am from Anloga, I belong to the family of Sena”

“Where are you coming from this late?”

“I took a friend to Woe and ended up not getting a vehicle back”

“Well, I still cannot open the door for you this late, move on and knock on
another door, I am a single woman and I won’t open the door”

I was beyond reason; it felt like everything around me was waiting for me
to take the next step.

I banged harder on the door

“I am not leaving until you open this door; you will get no rest, open the
door!”

Bang, bang, bang!

“Okay, step away from the door, I have a weapon in my hand and if you
attempt anything silly I will cause you severe harm”

“Alright, now open the door”

I could hear the lock mechanism being engaged and as the door cracked
open, I nearly passed out when a face with eyes so white looked
ghoulishly at me. She held a hurricane lamp at face level and had she not
uttered a word I would certainly have made another mad dash down that
long road.

“Young man, take this stool and sit to the right of the hut”, she pushed a
kitchen stool with her feet towards me.

“I am not letting you in; I will sit at my front door with you till you feel
comfortable enough to proceed on your way”

She motioned for me to sit, I guess my trembling lips could find no words,
it took me a while to realise that she was completely blind.

“Now tell me your story, why are you about this late hour”

“I sat down and facing her with my back to the road that was a few
metres behind me told her in as clearly as I can how I ended up in a little

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settlement and being stood up by a girl I hardly knew. She listened all
through my narration nary speaking a word. Then she spoke

“Well, like every foolish young man you nearly sacrificed your life chasing
girls”

Anyway, in two to three hours the early busses will begin passing through
I will sit with you till then. And so we sat in silence in the chill of late night
air. When the first busses started rolling through, I thanked her profusely
and left in a cab to my residence.

As it turned out my friend had an unequally unsettling night not having


heard from me and was standing by the gate that early in the morning
wondering how it was all going to turn out.

We made a few visits back to the communication centre to find out why
the girl had behaved so strangely, she never turned up for work since that
display of feminine wile.

I made a return visit back to the Old woman who sat with me and
presented with some good quality gin. She told me several nerve
wracking stories of people who had strangely disappeared dating girls
from the settlement where I had my mid night encounter of
disappointment.

There were rumours of secretive fishing groups who delighted in fishing


with human blood to snare the giant salmons that seem to be strongly
attracted to human blood in the sea.

You never know, she warned, how true some of those harrowing stores
are, one thing we know for certain is sniffing after strange girls like a dog
always leads to trouble sooner or later, you may thank God you only had
a bad scare. It could have been a different story if the darkness had
swallowed you like it did other less fortunate men.

As the story got around we heard collaboratory tales of such similar


unsavoury nature that I dread to entertain them.

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