Tears Of Pride (2)

Continued from last week Saturday
“PLEASE, don’t be angry over this, young lady,” Deinde gestured.
“I beg of you, teach him to be humble…tell him that being humble would take him to heights he never dreamt of…so that he can live long.”

“I’ll talk to him…don’t mind his utterances,” Deinde begged.

When Shile left that evening, some people who witnessed the embarrassing drama called the cyber café’s assistant and asked her if she had not heard of the young man called Shile before. In a sincere way she said, “I don’t know him. Who is he?” the fair-skinned lady asked confusedly.

“He is a super rich Internet scammer. He is stupendously wealthy and a big time spender,” the man offered.

“Is that the reason he boasts and talks anyhow to people? He should fear God because there is no level a person finds himself that the Almighty God cannot bring him down if He so wishes. He doesn’t have to be rude or turn into a braggart simply because he is rich. God creates wealth for humans. He should learn to be humble; it pays,” the lady added.

It was an all-night party. All the bigwigs, celebrities and prominent personalities in the business, political and entertainment circles were there. Shile was invited to the birthday shindig by the celebrant himself, Femi Oshikomaya. A popular musician was at the bandstand to add glamour and entertain invited guests. There was an unforgettable razzmatazz at the event. All the movers and shakers in the society were there. There was so much to drink, eat and take away. Women of easy virtues paraded themselves in a fashion so alluring and enchanting to the delight of guests.

Shile went to the grand birthday party with delectable Toyin, one of his numerous girlfriends, and also a male friend. When it was 2.30a.m., Shile and other revelers had enjoyed themselves so much and felt they should leave for home. The party was held in the popular Okin Crescent in Lagos Mainland. Shile was behind the wheel of his automatic Kompressor Mercedes Benz. Music was blaring from the CD player in the exotic automobile.

About 30 minutes later, they came to a roadblock mounted by some vigilante in the area.
“Come down everyone of you for a search,” ordered the leader of the vigilante team.
“Damn it, useless motherf..kers,” Shile hissed under his breath, “who are these hoodlums barricading the road?”

Shile blared the horn of his car in a high-pitched sound.
“Will you get off the road and let me go, you crazy lot!” he screamed. He opened the door of his Benz car, got down and walked towards the vigilante team – about five men.
“And what do you think you are doing here?” he asked angrily.
“Can we see your identity card please?” they asked.

“Who are you? And who gave you the authority to mount roadblocks and embarrass motorists?” Shile asked, getting more furious and irritated.

“We are doing our duty here as vigilante, let’s see the faces of other occupants of this car, mister man.” The leader of the team requested.

“Damn it, motherf..kers! Who the hell do you think you are?” Shile roared and landed a thunderous slap on the cheek of the leader of the vigilante team.

“What? My cheek!” the man exclaimed in pains. He was dazed by Shile’s hard slap. Shile moved backward instantly, opened the door of his car swiftly and entered. He put the key in the ignition the next second and accelerated the car. The other vigilante men dashed across the road. One of them pulled out a gun and fired at the windscreen of the Kompressor Benz Car, aiming at Shile. The bullet shattered the windscreen and hit him on the chest; he collapsed on the steering, bleeding profusely. The car jerked forward and smashed into a lorry parked beside the road. Shile hiccupped thrice and died on the spot, resting his head on the steering. A painful tear dropped from the corner of his eye as he took his last breath. The other occupants of the car sustained injuries and were rushed to the hospital. They survived, but Shile gave up the ghost instantly.

The following morning, about 8a.m., news of the unfortunate incident was reported in the radio, and the evening papers came out with a catchy title: “Young Socialite Killed After Night Party!”

The news came to the hearing of the cyber café assistant that evening concerning the death of Shile. The deeply religious, buxom lady was shocked and overwhelmed with emotions at the sudden death of the young socialite, who had died without knowing God. She marveled with empathy that what would it profit a man to reap the bounties and wealth of life only to lose his soul to the devil? She burst into tears when thoughts of the young man’s life flashed through her memory. She could recall vividly how unrepentantly arrogant and pompous Shile was, but still wondered that he learnt the lesson of life the heard way. What a life!

Life is a treasure to behold, it behoves all human beings to tread softly because nobody knows when the last call would be heard. God frowns at the arrogant and pompous, but loves the humble and the meek at heart.
Concluded