I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. He looked furtively from one side to the other.
When he was satisfied that no one was watching him, he entered the house.
He was holding a small brown bag which was common with insurance salesmen in the 1990s .
He was in the house for approximately five minutes. He did not see me. When he came out, he quickly walked away and he no longer carried the small brown bag.
He lived across the street and his name was Baba VaReggy. He was suspected of selling drugs like marijuana to the youth.
My neighbours, Baba Svinurai and his wife had travelled to the countryside two days ago. I had seen them off and waved them goodbye. There was no one at home. They were not in good books and hardly talked together.
So what was going on here? He had used some spare keys. Where did he get them?
Why had Baba VaReggy enter the empty house? Should I phone my neighbours and tell them what I had witnessed. That someone had entered their house. Would they believe me?
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I wanted to talk to someone. Unfortunately Mai VaMaidei was not at home, she was still at the market.
It was unbelievable. One cannot just enter someone’s house. Baba VaReggy had spent a good five minutes in that house. What was he doing during that period. He had no right to be in that house.
Soon afterwards, I left for Zororo Bar. The mystery of Baba VaReggy was still unsolved. In the meantime, I made up my mind not to share this information with anyone yet. It could cause social upheavals in our street.
Baba VaTata was already in the bar. He looked dejected.
“I can read your face, what is bothering you?” I said.
“Huh, my boy, he is back on drugs again. I caught him this morning,” Baba VaTata said.
His son, Martin had a drug problem and had just come from rehabilitation. “ And the thing is when I confronted him about it, instead of being remorseful and apologetic , he became violent and broke all the window panes,”’ Baba VaTata said.
Martin was supposed to be doing Upper Six but he had squandered the examination fees on drugs and ran away from boarding school with two of his friends after they had broken into the headmaster:s office . I felt sorry for him.
The drug menace had become a pandemic in our community.
Some of the teenagers and unemployed youth were getting hooked on hard substances. The drug peddlers were people who were all known but were untouchable.
“So where is he now?” I said.
“After he broke the window panes, he snatched his mother’s phone and ran away,” baba VaTata said.
This was too bad. Martin had been a good kid and had even been made a prefect at school before the drug habit kicked in. He had mixed up with the wrong crowd.
“Don’t give up on him, you must take him back to rehab,” I said.
I soon forgot about Baba VaReggy’s intrusion into our neighbour’s house. I was only jolted to my senses when I went back home.
There were several policemen at our neighbour’s house. Several people were gathered outside.
My heart suddenly pounded. What had happened? I suddenly remembered the intruder in the form of Baba VaReggy getting into our neighbour’s house. I went closer. And then I saw Baba Svinurai. He was in handcuffs.
I saw Mai Bhobho, our next door neighbour and I asked her. “What crime has he committed?”
“The police have found some dangerous drugs in his house,” Mai Bhobho said.
And everything suddenly dawned on me. All the pieces in the jigsaw puzzle fell into place.
Baba VaReggy had planted those drugs in Baba Svinurai’s house and had tipped off the police as soon as our neighbours arrived back from the countryside. So this is what it was all about. Baba VaReggy had framed our neighbours. I had seen him enter the house. That was the time he must have planted the drugs.
Would the police believe me if I told them what I had seen?
It made me think. How many people have been incarcerated for crimes they have not committed? And how many people have remained silent when their voices could have made a difference?
We live in a cruel world.
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