21 years back, on 15 September a wonderful thing happened. God exposed his powers and capabilities, the moment i opened my eyes and saw the cloudy skies... the sun showed up.
I was born for the game, taking action for attention is what makes you obey to my command and provide my demands. Having it pointed to you is part of my means when demanding cooperation therefore protecting your soul must be your main intention cause this operation might end with more tears and bloodflow. As time went on, i started understanding his concept. The real mastermind never had to master any movements, but so generative in thoughts. A born warrior, pure devil in mission with high capabilities of finding you a place to nest at the cemetery. Never draw closer to being the enemy of the worst gun banger, c ause your last breath might contain gunpowder. Shooting cans, he was my professional mentor. Every trigger i pulled was to impress the shadow reflecting from behind. Car jacking was never an option or an answer to his call, jeweleries were worth dying for... for they leave no trace behind. No ink or any identification mark. House robberies were never a big shot for t...
The Rescue The letter was blunt: I have your wife and kids. Bring the money plus R10,500 interest, or they die. Sizwe called Senzo, frantic. Senzo told him two of his men had been in an accident, delaying the heist. Meanwhile, Sizwe’s boss called, questioning his absence. Sizwe lied, saying his wife was in the hospital. When Sizwe met Senzo later, he found him with three corrupt police officers: Thabo, John, and Sergeant Paul. "They’ll be the ones 'interrogating' you after the job," Senzo explained. Sizwe’s phone rang again. It was the loan shark. "I know you took my family!" Sizwe screamed. "What? I didn't touch your family, man," the shark replied. "I'm just coming for your TV and fridge." Sizwe dropped the phone, confused. Jack, Senzo's scout, stepped forward. "Boss, I've been monitoring them. They were taken to a greenhouse on Garden Way Avenue. A man with a scorpion tattoo on his neck is there." ...
The Weight of Debt He closed his eyes for a moment, sitting alone on a chair positioned in the middle of the room after reading the letter. In 1983, Sizwe worked as a bank manager in town. His wife ran a retail business in the southern part of the city. They had three children—one in primary school and two in high school—all of whom were excelling in their studies. But life wasn't as good as it sounded; dark clouds were gathering over their home. Sizwe was drowning. He owed R27,000 to loan sharks and another R50,000 to the bank. His salary barely covered food, rent, and petrol. Every month, the interest from the loan sharks rose by R500. They had begun to threaten him, saying they would kidnap his seventeen-year-old daughter and traffic her to recover their money. Desperate, he once contemplated suicide. He stood up, headed to the storeroom, and took a rope. He walked straight into the bushes without a word to anyone. As he tied the rope to a tree, he thought about smoking mari...
Comments
Post a Comment