"How much does a judge cost?" my father asked me.
"That depends," I said.
"Well, seems like that's all justice is about in this republic."
"What are you not telling me, dad?"
He took a long sigh then said, "We lost the case, John. We lost."
"What? What do you mean? No way!"
"Yes. Apparently, there's no evidence enough."
I was about sobs. "Everybody knew it. Everybody knows it. It was our land. It is our land." I almost shouted at dad. "And we all know that it was him who killed grandpa. Why dad? Why?"
My father was his usual cool. "John, son, I hate to tell you this, but it's the truth. Life ain't fair, get used to it."
I felt like I could kill somebody. Hell, I could, and should kill somebody.
"Thank God you're alive, John," my father told me after a while. "World of Richie Riches, they get their own breaks and everyone else's too."
"Yeah, I get it. The rich just get richer and the poor…"
"Whine like you."
That was ten years ago.
And this is now.
I have a bounty of over a billion shillings on my head. I rob, with violence, and kill the rich – government
offcials, media moguls, academics, church leaders, bankers, police, judges, military gooks and all.
I am the MOST WANTED man locally and internationally.
That's the bad thing.
The good thing is that I do it for the common man.
And I never gonna be caught.
Trust me on that!
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