The Murder Of Miss Jackson

There's something wrong somewhere. Who could have killed Miss Jackson.

I could have sworn that I saw Samuel coming out of Miss Jackson's house in the morning. He was holding a black nylon bag, and he looked quite nervous. He kept walking and looking around as if to ensure that no one was watching him. I immediately felt suspicious, and I brought out my phone to make a video of him. I kept following him until he was out of sight. 

Of course, because I wasn't sure if it was him, I didn't tell of my suspicion to the police who had come to investigate the death of Miss Jackson. I didn't want to be the bad neighbor who spread false rumors around... Miss Jackson was found in her room, lying in an awkward position. Her legs were propped up high on her king-size bed, and the rest of her body slumped down to the floor. Oh! She was found headless too. Her head was gone. It was really a horrible sight to behold. 

Most of the other neighbors gathered around her front door. While some were helping the police by providing information, others like Mama Emeka, the tapioca seller, and Mama Biola, the two-tongued woman, were seen chit-chattering about the unfortunate incident...... "Ewo!!! E no get anything wey we no go see for this life!" noted Mama Emeka, with her hands on her head. 

"Wetin comes do dis fine woman na," another woman added. "Who go get mind kill am, eh, na only God go punish dat pesin"..... "Ogbeni, shurrup there.." the two-tongued woman lashed at her. "See dis one, ewo bo sheri! Why not! Why should they not kill her? That ashawo! See, let me tell you!" She continued, "That witch has finally found what she has been looking for." " Shebi it was just last week that she was looking at my husband anyhow. Even after I warned her, she still continued." "Thank God that she is dead or else...." 

"Or else what?. You better watch your mouth, you this local woman." "With the way you are talking, she lowered her voice, "Everybody would think that you killed her..." I just stood there watching the drama unfold. I felt sick with guilt. Miss Jackson was such a nice person to me. I couldn't just stay there and wait when I could actually do something. I walked up to the policemen. 

After hearing what I had to say and watching the video that I had made earlier in the morning, the policemen swung swiftly into action. On our way to Samuel's house, Mama Emeka also provided additional information. She said that she had seen Samuel in the morning. He had told her that he was going to buy something from the shop down the street, but later on, she saw him go into Miss Jackson's house. And all this was around the time miss Jackson was presumed to be murdered. This knowledge further strengthened our already aroused suspicion. 

One of the policemen quickly knocked at the door. A tired and still very sleepy Samuel poked his head through the door. On sighting the policemen and all the neighbors, he stood up straight. His worried look almost gave him up completely, but he soon regained his composure. "Officers, what can I do for you?" he asked, looking from us to the policemen and back again. "We would like to search your apartment if you would permit us," the policeman replied calmly. " But what for?" he asked, still proving difficult. 

The policeman didn't seem to want to continue the question and answer session. He shoved Samuel aside and entered his room. The neighbors all clamored forward to experience first-hand what was going to happen, but the other policemen stopped them. A few minutes later, the policeman emerged, holding a black nylon bag in his hands. It was wet. He immediately ordered the other policemen to bring Samuel out. He walked down the short flight of steps and dropped the bag on the floor. Out of curiosity, one of the neighbors kicked the nylon bag when the policeman wasn't looking and out rolled the head of Miss Jackson. 

We all ran away as far as our legs could go. Samuel was brought out, and only when his eyes fell upon the head did he start to scream. His protests were futile as he was pushed into the police van, his hands bent behind by the police metal. I and some other neighbors were invited to the police station for questioning. We were asked to write our statements, and then we were released. 

I got back home at noon, tired and hungry. I quickly turned on my stove and brought out the black bag of food that I had taken from Samuel's house. I poured its contents into a pot and set it on the stove. 

The smell of the delicious food Miss Jackson had cooked for Samuel only made me hate him the more. Why did she love him? Why not me? If she had, maybe I wouldn't have killed her. Yes, I killed her. Miss Jackson was a beautiful woman, and I had had eyes for her ever since the day she moved into our neighborhood. But she didn't love me back. She told me that I was too small for her and that I would never be able to satisfy her. I told my best friend, Samuel, about my love for her, and he assured me that I was going to get her. Little did I know that they were sleeping with each other behind my back. 

I got so furious that I planned revenge. I was just walking around the hood, thinking of the best time to exact it, when I saw Samuel go into Miss Jackson's house. I went around the house and peeped through her window. The ungodly state of passion they were locked in made my eyes bulge and my legs quiver. I had wanted to kill them both then, but I waited. Later, Samuel came out with a nylon bag of the food she had cooked for him. I saw this as my chance. I brought out my phone and made a video of him. Then when he was out of sight, I went back and killed Miss Jackson. I cut her head and put it in a black bag just like the one Samuel was holding. 

I ran over to his house, making sure that no one saw me. I looked through his window, and after safely ensuring that he was in the bathroom, I crept in slowly. I exchanged the nylon bags and put a sleeping pill into his drink that he had left unfinished. I didn't even have to see if he would drink it. He was my friend; I knew he would be. But just to be sure, I went to his window again. I saw him come out of the bathroom and make straight for his drink. He finished it in one gulp before getting ready to dress up. I turned off the stove and dished out the food. A cunning smile crept up my lips as I ate, " Seems a shame, though; you were such a good cook." I laughed as I ate in satisfaction.