I,Tiran

The sun breaks the night in a bleak shanty town at the periphery of an African village. An elderly man in his fifties sits in his office in this brisk morning looking at pictures of a family. His attention is affixed mentally at a single person in the photos- Abiodun.

The chatter of a laugh is heard outside that grows louder with each step, that causes him to look at his door. A full shaven man with stripes and stars enters stretching a smile on his face.

"Isn't it wrong to laugh so openly with your brother dead?", the old man asks.

The entering man's face turns to an angered grimace, "Hey", he shouts. "He's my brother and I choose how I want to remember him by, fool".

"The entire country is in a state of mourning and you're here chattering up. The crowd awaits outside, Solomon."

Solomon replies,"What for? What more do they need to know? I believe it's obvious how things will go on from here."

"And that is? As Vice-President I still have some authority and I say that we keep an election. The people want to know who will be the new candidates from the party?" 

Solomon raises his brows and looks with a furtive gaze," Listen here you simpleton, the people do not need choice when it has been made for them. Me. I'm the one true successor here. And those bloody Mahoyans will pay for what they did to this place".

"You will not go about starting a war for senseless reasons. And you will be nowhere near this new government."  

"Silence you chieftain. We all know where the cash comes from now that my brother is dead. The will goes in my name and you will elect me as his successor."

"Or what?", the old man asks.

"Or? Or you won't get a SINGLE blasted penny from the will. What'd you think? Wait from him to drop dead and just take what's yours? I OWN YOU."

A little boy clerk no older than twelve dashes in the halls and drops to the floor inside the office panting hard, "Master" he shouts,

"There are men from the party and the village assembled outside tearing down your posters and slogans. Come Quick."

Indeed a crowd had gathered that was dense but as soon as Solomon decides to grace them with his presence along with some armed men, it grows slightly thin. Among the crowd is a crippled homeless man shouting slurs at a torn poster of him. He picks up the pieces and throws them aggressively at his feet.

"GO BACK AND NEVER RETURN", he shouts thumping Solomon's chest.

He goes on, "You devil. You sent our sons. Our Children. To fight a brutal war. I HAVE NOTHING because of you. I've lost everything. Who will answer to me? God? Because if he does answer, I'm taking you along with me."

Solomon remains silent and cradles the weeping man in his arms. But not for long. He slams him to the dusty earth and pulls away one of the guns from the armed men around him reluctantly. "You want to God", he says. "Well then GO". Solomon empties nine shots in him much to the horror of the crowd that looks on. He proceeds to kick him roughly on his face.

He then turns to the crowd, "YOU SEE THIS. This is what happens when the man decides to take the law in his hands. Desecrating a poster is not acceptable. NOW LISTEN HERE. This piece of land, and all within it, is mine. Anyone having any objections can finish me over here like the man he is. THERE'S A NEW RULE AND A NEW DECREE. AND HIS NAME IS SOLOMON."

The crowd is dispersed by the security and the Vice-President too is disturbed with the events. He chooses not to intervene out of fear and goes away. Solomon cleans away the blood from his clothes albeit with the patches still visible. The corpse just lays there, rotting away. Truly a new decree had been launched. A new rule in a democracy soon to become a banana republic.