“As the accused persons have pleaded guilty to all the charges levelled against them and have thereby been convicted on their own plea, the issue of punishment must be considered using different criteria. This is because, in imposing a sentence on an accused person, the courts normally take into consideration factors such as whether the sentence is of a deterrent, reformative, or retributive nature.

In imposing the appropriate sentence, this court considered the following aggravating factors…”

Castro, Emma and I stood in the accused persons’ box in the court, the most forlorn of looks on our faces. We could barely look each other in the face as the judge read her judgment.

It had been a rough couple of days since we were caught by the police.

Turns out the guy we tried to rob was an undercover officer. They had been monitoring us for a while and had hatched a plan to catch us.

We fell right into the trap, that’s for sure.

They didn’t waste any time in hauling us before a court, and honestly, we thought it made more sense to just admit to the judge that we were guilty. After all, we reasoned among ourselves, as young boys, it was likely she would have mercy on us and let us go free. This would be a simple matter, right?

Well, after the prosecutor read the facts of our case, the judge asked us a few questions, particularly relating to our operations. We answered as honestly as we could, with serious looks on our faces. I don’t know if the other two didn’t notice, but her expression grew darker and darker as we filled her in on what had led us to court.

And after her last question, when she started writing, I got seriously uncomfortable. Especially when the writing took quite some time. It was almost about ten to fifteen minutes of writing before we heard her voice.

The first part of it sounded wordy and technical. My young brain really could not handle all those legal distins.

But my attention was captured at a point…

“Since the offences levelled against the accused persons are of a very grave nature, and are viewed with the utmost repugnance by society, the sentence must not only be punitive but it must also be a deterrent or exemplary in order to mark the disapproval of society and this country of such conduct by young men like this, who clearly derive joy from inflicting hurt and unnecessary trauma upon unsuspecting persons simply seeking to get by in this life.”

I was not comfortable at all when I heard that. The dark looks were definitely like dark clouds foreboding something unpleasant.

“… the court shows its utter revulsion at their actions by imposing a harsh sentence to serve as a deterrent to like-minded persons and to help manage a reduction of the high number of cases in this regard. On this note, the court hereby sentences the accused persons to twelve years imprisonment…”

“OHHH! Oh, Madam, we beg, we beg-“

That was quite a sucker punch to us. We tried to plead right there and then, but the gavel went down pretty heavy as she told us to be silent before continuing to read the remainder of the judgment.

My head was spinning. Twelve years??!!

Twelve years in prison??!!

How??

How in the world could that be happening to me?

I had the world at my feet! How was I now being sentenced to prison?

The horror. The horror…

The horror.

***

“Mawuli, didn’t I warn you? Eh, didn’t I? I told you not to move around with those boys. I told you! Nanso you wouldn’t listen. You rather spoke to me so rudely, and you nearly beat me! Now look at this! What do I do, Mawuli? What do I do? Heiiii, you have finished me!”

I’m still amazed at the fact after all that time, my mother still had the heart to speak to me. Honestly, it amazes me.

Even after my foolish acts of disrespect and my arrogance in walking out and never returning, she still called me while I was languishing in prison. Having to put up with one heck of an overcrowded room where we could barely breathe or comfortably lie down.

Honestly, eh, the love of a mother is something you can’t comprehend with the human mind. It’s simply amazing.

As for my grand-uncle, he didn’t even want to hear my name in the house. He had given up on me totally. Not that you can blame him, though; I was crass and uncultured towards him that night, and my decision to flip the finger at him really stung him. So when he heard that I had been imprisoned for robbery, he didn’t even react. In his eyes, I totally deserved it.

Once again, you can’t blame him, can you?

So yeah, it had only been about three weeks since I had officially started life as an inmate at the Nsawam Prisons.

And I hated it.

I had been too ashamed to try and contact anyone to help me get out; I knew nobody would want to even assist me in any way, considering all I had done. But once that third week started, I knew the pride had to fall.

So I called my mother, using the phone of a prisons officer. And as you can expect, she unloaded every bit of frustration on me.

“When elderly people were talking to you about avoiding those boys, they knew what they were saying. Yet you didn’t listen! Now look! Now my name is in disgrace! People are talking about me! Saying all sorts of things about me!”

For the first time in an extremely long time, my heart cracked, and remorse seeped in. Serious regret enveloped my entire being, and I couldn’t help but shed tears as Madam Fafa Brese wailed uncontrollably in frustration.

Man, it really hit me at that moment how unfair I had been to my mother. All she ever did was try and ensure I had a bright future, only to be disgraced by my sheer tomfoolery. I had really done her wrong.

“Maame, I’m sorry. I beg you, forgive me,” I pleaded, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I beg you, please, forgive me. And please, get me out of here. I can’t stand it here. This place is horrible. I beg you, I want to change, wai. Please, if you can speak to the judge to let me go. I beg you.”

“But how, Mawuli, how? I can’t go to the judge just like that. Heh? How can I ask her to just set you free like that? You think she’ll listen to me?”

I shrugged helplessly. I had no idea. “I-I… don’t know. But… but maybe… something can work…”

Clueless. No other word can adequately describe how I felt at that moment.

She stayed silent for about a minute. Then she slowly replied, “Yooo, you… I hear. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you if anything comes up, okay?”

The relief that coursed through my veins as she said that. “Thank you, Maame! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later.”

As I hung up, this sweet feeling of hope washed over me, and suddenly I was feeling very confident. She might not have sounded too confident, but the fact that she said she would see what she could do meant a lot to me. To my ears, she had already found a way out; she just needed some time to properly figure it out and get it done.

As far as I was concerned, I was as good as free. It was only a matter of time until I’d be walking out of this place a free man.

Freedom was on its way…

***

“Oh, bossu, I beg, let me try one last time. Please, I beg.”

The prisons officer glared at me, then tossed his ‘yam’ phone at me. “Just two minutes oo, massa. Two minutes! Two minutes catch naaa, I dey take my phone. You dey hear?”

I nodded hurriedly as I rushed to dial her number.

About a month had passed, and no word from my mother.

After the way I had been assured that she’d call me if anything came up, I had some level of expectancy in me that she would come through and get some help for me. So I had been waiting patiently, waking up each day with the belief that I’d get that all-important, life-changing call. Whether it was the judge she got through to, or some other method, I trusted that she would get it done.

A week turned into two weeks. I figured it would take some time, so I didn’t get too anxious.

Two weeks turned into three weeks. I started getting jittery. Surely it didn’t have to take this long, did it?

Three weeks turned into a month. Now I was really worried.

I had tried calling her the previous day, about 8 times. All those times, her phone was switched off.

Had she blocked me or something? Had she changed her mind or something? Had she left me halfway and decided not to mind me again?

The questions were many, so that late morning, I pleaded with the prisons officer to let me try calling again. He was already pretty irritated by the numerous unsuccessful attempts I had made the prior day, so I was on borrowed time this time around.

“Please go through, please go through,” I muttered to myself as I dialled the number.

Guess what? It finally rang this time.

Awesome! Hopefully, I’d get some info from her.

Two rings in, and an elderly male voice answered. “Hello?”

I froze for a moment. I knew that voice.

My grand-uncle.

Had no idea why he was answering my mother’s phone, but yeah, that was no business of mine.

“Umm, g-g-good morning, p-p-paapa,” I stuttered nervously, expecting a verbal lashing once he found out who was speaking.

“Who is this?”

I swallowed hard. “It’s-it’s… it’s M-M-Mawuli. I-I… I wanted to speak with my mother, please. I-I-I… hope you don’t mind.”

I flinched after that, anticipating the fiercest roasting ever.

What followed, though, was silence. Total silence.

I looked at the phone, confused for a moment. What was going on?

Before I could say anything, he spoke.

“Mawuli.”

An uneasy chill shot down my spine at the sound of his voice. It sounded solemn and… almost sorrowful.

“Young man, because of you, your mother was frantically looking for a lawyer to try and get you out of prison. She found one who invited her to the office to discuss the whole matter. On her way there, she was knocked down by a speeding car. She died instantly.”

Shock flooded through my entire being.

What?

This had to be a sick joke, right? Was he trying to say that…

“Mawuli, your mother is dead. I’m sorry.”

Ladies and gentlemen, what happened the next few seconds after that is still a blur in my mind. Whether I dropped the phone or I collapsed out of shock, I don’t remember. But dear Lord, that was the absolute nadir of my existence on earth.

My mother had met her untimely demise because of me. Because I had convinced her to try and get me out of prison.

This was all my fault…

Oh dear, he lost his mother. Hmmm, the guilt and the grief he’s gonna go through at this stage…