The Trial Of The Beast…

AARON ANSAH-AGYEMAN

THE TRIAL OF THE BEAST

EPISODE 8

Eduafo got to his feet nervously.

“Pig feet!” somebody yelled. “Cow dung! Murderer just like him! Shame on you!”

Eduafo was petrified as he looked at the cold-faced policeman in the dock.

“There are some things I don’t understand here,” he said uncertainly. “First, you said you received a call from the girl’s father that his daughter had been kidnapped. How did he know about it, and how did you know the exact place to locate the accused?”

“Zak Twum had bragged to some of his friends that he was going to rape Gyamaan,” Boateng said coldly. “One of the boys at the Sasam Orphanage heard it, and he was concerned. His name was Kwadwo Pamfo. He called Mr. Afriyie and told him what Zak planned to do, and where he had taken her.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Eduafo said, and wiped his face. It was evident that his confidence was gone totally. “This room you found Zak in…I don’t understand. He spent all his life at the Sasam Orphanage, and he’s supposed to live there. Now, which room are you talking about? Is it a room at the Sasam Orphanage?”

Boateng gave a contemptuous chuckle.

“Didn’t you read the police report? We gave you the file on the case, and if you’d taken your time to read it you would have realised that Zak Twum rented a room in town, away from the orphanage, and spent most of his time there to sell marijuana and cocaine!”

Once again, the angry crowd reacted.

Eduafo was feeling absolutely distressed now. He felt as exposed as blood stain on calico. He swallowed noisily and faced the policeman again.

“This boy, Kwadwo Pamfo…of course, I have to cross-examine him to find out…”

Eduafo’s voice trailed off as he looked miserably at the smiling face of the policeman; he realised just then that Kwadwo Pamfo was dead, and that was one of the murder charges against Zak Twum.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a humiliated voice. “No more questions, Your Honour!”

Faddah next called Dr. Osafo Lassey to the stand.

He was a smallish, intense-looking bespectacled man in his late fifties. He was wearing a long white fugu and matching headgear. His nose was beaked and extremely long.

He was the head of the Sasam Hospital and was a very respectable man in the country.

He also gave a chilling account of what he had seen.

The renowned doctor said Gyamaan had been brought to him for a check-up by four policemen. Gyamaan had been covered with blood, and she was very devastated. His examination had revealed that she had been brutally raped. This drew cries of anguish from the crowd and brought a look of sheer pain to Judge Kuntu’s face.

“You will burn for this, murderer!” somebody screamed.

Faddah presented copies of the medical report to Judge Kuntu as evidence, and then he took his seat.

“Defence, your rebuttal,” Kuntu said.

Eduafo shook his head numbly; at that moment his mind was made up. He resolved that he was not going to defend Zak Twum anymore.

He was sickened by what he had heard, and like everyone else he wanted the wicked boy to pay.

“No questions, Your Honour!” he said tightly.

When the doctor stepped down, the judge asked if any more witnesses would be called by the Prosecution.

“No, Your Honour, that is all on the charge of rape,” Faddah said contentedly.

“Defence?” Kuntu asked softly.

Eduafo got to his feet. “No, Your Honour, no witnesses for…-”

He broke off because a shocking thing happened then.

No one had been expecting it, and thus for a moment, it brought a terrible silence to the courtroom.

Zak Twum was on his feet, and his eyes were boring into the face of Eduafo.

“Call me to the stand,” he said softly. “I am your witness.”

These were the very first words Eduafo had ever heard from the boy, and he was shocked into immobility.

Before he could utter a word, Zak walked around the table and entered the dock. He sat down and faced his accusers.

The room was as quiet as a cemetery.

The shock was so thick that it filled the room like a physical thing!

Surprisingly, it was Eduafo who got over his shock first, and in its place began a terrible fury that was a sum of all his humiliation. He came around the table like a harmattan hurricane on a cold December afternoon.

“What is this?” he asked tightly, facing Zak. “What’s the meaning of this?”

The boy looked at him calmly.

“You have to hear my side of the story,” he said softly.

“Your side? Now as in now?” Eduafo asked, almost foaming at the mouth. “Are you mad? I’d been trying for ages to hear you speak, but no, you’re the Most High Emperor Clam! You did not even write your own statement! I had to enter a guilty plea on each charge so that a little mercy shall be shown you…and now you want to tell your story of rape and murder?”

“We’re talking about rape now, and I didn’t do it,” Zak Twum said calmly.

“You’re huge, big, insanely guilty!” Eduafo screamed and was not aware he had screamed until his words were met by a terrible silence.

Only then did he turn around and realise what a spectacle he was making of himself. There was no pity on the faces he saw. He saw triumph on Faddah’s face, and with a deflated ego he turned toward Zak Twum with drooping shoulders.

“Alright, my friend, go on, tell your story!” he said, turned and went to sit down again.

“Mr. Kuuku Eduafo,” Judge Kuntu said softly, his face full of unhidden malice. “This is the last time you dramatize in my court!”

Eduafo was past the point of caring.

He just shrugged.

“Young man,” Judge Kuntu addressed Zak Twum, barely able to keep the loathing from his voice. “Step down now!”

Zak stared at him without blinking an eye.

He reached over slowly and adjusted the microphone fixed on the dock.

“Why must I stand down?” he asked softly. “Is this court so one-sided that it refuses to listen to my side of the story?”

There was a collective intake of breath.

Kuntu looked at the boy he hated so much. It took all his will to stop him from dashing down and strangling Zak with his own hands.

“Are you aware that you entered a plea of guilty?” he asked menacingly.

“I didn’t,” Zak shot back calmly. “My lawyer did.”

“Your lawyer did, did he?” Kuntu asked, and his voice was not pleasant at all. “So now, you want to change all your guilty pleas to not guilty?”

“You don’t lick the pestle when it is your own mother cooking the aprapransa,” the boy said. “Guilty or not, you will decide, not I.”

Again, there was that collective gasp of shock.

Kuntu’s face seemed to undergo a horrible metamorphosis, assuming a mask of complete hatred that he could not mask.

“Do you know you stand a great risk of having any mercy this court might have on you quashed by any…stupid remarks that might aggravate the already hostile reaction against you?”

“It seems to me, Mr. Judge, that you’ve already judged a case which is still being tried,” Zak said in that same infuriatingly calm voice.

The atmosphere was electric.

It was as if everybody present was holding his breath.

Slowly Kuntu leaned back, removed his spectacles, and fixed Zak with the most dreadful look on earth.