The two Polizei officers wrote our names down from the ID cards we had produced.
They were trying to advice us; A Camerounian and a Sudanese not to fight again. They reminded us that we came from the same Africa and that if we fought again, we will be thrown into jail.
John bighead had pulled me out of the phone booth and started pushing me. I was no match for him, so I avoided doing anything that could warrant a punch from him.
Somehow, someone had seen him pushing me and called the Police.
The green and white German police car had abruptly stopped near the booth and John had somehow managed to fake a smile to show them that everything was alright. They had shouted ”Ausweiss bitte (PASSPORT PLEASE) (Ausweiss is Passport or ID card in German).
We had produced the temporal ID cards from the Camp.
They made some calls to the camp and confirmed that our names existed in their database.
After the advice, I left John and walked alone to the Camp. When I got to the gate, the little man at the gate swiped my ID card for authentication as usual and asked why I was fighting outside. He had not seen us, so I wondered how he knew. I told him that we were only practicing African martial art; whatever that means.
He allowed me inside.
I went to Joshua to ask him to warn John. I threatened to report him to the authorities if he ever came within 10metre radius of me again.
I also reported to his other two friends.
That evening, three new people had come to Camp. Two Nigerians and a Camerounian. The Camerounian guy was posted to my room since I was a Camerounian while the other two Nigerians were given a new room. Their names were Joe (we called him KINDER) and Mike. They claimed to have come from Sierra Leone.
Mike was a huge guy with a lot of muscles all over his body, so I approached him first to make friends with him. I needed a bodyguard. John the Bighead was definitely going to pay for pushing me.
I took Mike and Joe to my room after dinner and told them the rules in the Camp.
We became friends. I also told them what was happening between me and John; Mike assured me that he will warn John. That was the best news I have heard in camp since John was stalking me. John was a security risk for me all because of a girl. He could unknowingly blow our covers if I didn’t take precautions. I had figured out that the only price he had wanted was to relinquish all claims and rights over the ownership of Agnes; which of course was not going to happen; NOT after I had tapped that extra ordinary piece of flesh cunnt just once.
Two reasons made things clear to me.
One was that it was left for Agnes to chose who to date in Camp; I can’t just chicken out due to fear of John. It was her right to chose her boyfriend. A RIGHT I was interested to protect.
* Solomon the wise human right activist, sent by Mother Africa to Europe to protect its women from dangerous oppressors such as John. Attaboy*
Secondly it will take military men with armoured tanks, RPGs and AK-47s to scare me away from that heap of fresh flesh between Agnes’ legs. No” John can’t scare me away. At a stage, I even thought that I had seen and been to Germany, if it meant going back home because of Agness, fine.
*Silly thought, but human minds were made to consider every possibilities*
About 11pm, we slept.
The following day was a Sunday. The mall was closed, so we couldn’t buy beer. I, Agnes, Joan and the kid, Mike and Kinder walked to the amusement park near the Eisenhuttenstadt River. We sat in the sand and drank a bottle of whiskey we had bought at the petrol station. We also threw breads to the ducks floating all over the water. The pigeons also came and played with us. It was a lovely sight watching the birds perch on your arm without fear. I recalled that it was that kind of scenario that the Jehovah’s witnesses told us heaven looked like. It was a confusion galore as I witnessed heaven while on earth. I wondered if John was hiding somewhere in the bush waiting for me to wonder in there to pee. The presence of Mike was assuring but his presence was also unsettling to me. I had seen how Agnes looked all over his huge biceps and even made a few references to it. I was alarmed. I had also made the decision of not inviting Mike on our subsequent meetings. Surprisingly, this talkative Mike had remained so calm and gentle throught the picnic. Danger alert!
If John had to break my head because of Agnes and due to my jealousness, so be it.
At about Noon, we went back to camp. It was time for lunch, which promised to always be the best of the three meals. That afternoon, we were served chicken with beans. It was a protein Sunday according to the German chef whom I had made my friend.
Agnes and Joan had brought plates from their hostel, so they took theirs back to hostel while me, Mike and Kinder devoured ours in the dinning hall.
A football game was coming up tomorrow between Africans and Arabs. The winner will play Asia and the winner will play a local selected team from Eisenhuttenstadt, our host city.
There was practice that afternoon, so we went to the field after lunch. John the Bighead was our captain. Captain Ghadafi, self acclaimed. I decided to concede that position to him anyway just to balance things up a little bit.
I was the goalkeeper which meant that all the ladies was standing behind me. There were other girls I had not seen or noticed in Camp…. Pretty girls from Cameroun, Liberia, all over East Africa and even two from Edo state Nigeria. They watched us as we practiced all afternoon.
I made mental list of potential camp mates out of them. I calculated about 7 of them who completed my list of to-do-in-Camp to 10.
The only goal against me was scored while looking at the long slim legs of Melinda, the South African Model; It wasn’t a competition aftrall, just a training.
In the evening, I was minding myself under one tree when Melinda the model walked majestically to my spot.
‘Hey Goalkeeper what’s up’ she said.
I answered her and get down to business immediately.
”Do you know that you are the most beautiful girl in this place” I asked.
‘ I know’ she said and laughed.
‘ Since I was the best, why are you fvcking Agnes’ the question alerted me instantly.
*In situations like this, I usualy kept quiet for a few seconds to manufacture a fitting answer*
I bent down and smiled for ten seconds before saying
”How did you know that”
I wanted to find out what she knew before deciding whether to deny or agree.
”She told me” she said.
*Damn, the truth was from Agnes herself, the stream had gotten dirty from the source*
‘ You see” I began.
”it wasn’t my intention, only that I made a bet with some guy. He boasted that I couldn’t get Agnes” I said.
” a bet, you mean with Johnny” she said.
” yea, I agreed without second thought. *Who else could it be*
She had taken the bait and it was a one way story then on.
My story assured Melinda that it was her that had caught my eyes from day one.
I told her how it was difficult to approach her for the fear of her refusing my request etc.
She stayed with me under the tree for over an hour until the dinner time. I had wanted to visit Agnes to get my boxers but she was in her menstrual period. If I had gone to get it, nothing could have happened, so I let it remain there for the time being. It was probably safer there since it could have been stolen from my waist.
After dinner, Melinda showed up again in front of the male hostel, she was looking for me. A Camerounian guy had come to call me. When I got down she asked me to stroll outside with her. All the black pairs of eyes were on us as we went behind the dinning hall and sat in a concrete bench fixed on the ground.
She started story about how she was a top model in one School in Durban and how she had come to Europe with a South African contingent on a pageant competition. She had bolted from their hotel and sneaked into Germany in the night. She figured she had a better chance of success in Europe.
Her stories was good but I was only interested in one thing; the pleasure park between her legs.
Darkness met us at the scene and it was a perfect venue for what I had in mind.
She was telling me about her boyfriend in South Africa when my hand accidentally brushed past her bosoms. It was a deliberate action, so I didn’t apologise. I waited for her to complain but none came so I took it as an approval.
My hand found the bosoms again and this time, it wasn’t in a haste to leave that soft apples.