My Unstable Neighbour — @segalink

I have always known something wrong with my Neighbour, but I couldn’t be bothered. She lived in the boys’ quarters, and we lived two floors above. The only thing that connected us was her right to the clothesline and driveway.

I may not be a clinical psychologist, but I can spot a psychosomatic dilemma from a mile off. It is either that or she was a blithering idiot. The gaping hole in her heart could be felt as she found reasons to quarrel daily. In her raucous state, you could hear her sing – songs of war. Lyrics adapted to suit her current concern. Loud enough to make you wanna ask if she is off her meds. But this was soon tolerated as an utterly and predictably normal situation in the yard. Until her combination of hubris and idiocy became lethal.

She woke up one morning and decided she won’t stop malfunctioning until she got a response. Cooked up a plot and started accusing everyone that breathes of burgling her tiny room. Her NOKIA 3310 had been been stolen, she claimed. Oh heaven must fall today. She bellowed.

She then turned to a young quiet neighbour who was recently married as at the material time, from the other wing, his only crime was his attempt to hold himself from hysterical laughter, having heard the specs of the alleged stolen device from a room half his kitchen. You dare mock me?! She wailed.

Suddenly latching herself to his shirt, squeezing tight and rubbing herself on his chest. The husbandman was confused. Now her screams got louder with a victim within her talons. Calm down miss he advised trying to understand the justification for the accusation.

You broke into my room mister! She was wailing and blinking hard to force tears from her eyes but they were as dry as Hell. Okay miss, can I see your lock? He demanded as she pulled him to her door. The lock was neither broken nor forcefully opened from all indications.

The gentleman, realized that the woman just needed a sparring partner and he may have walked into trouble in Kodak color. Okay ma’am you can let go now. He said. I know nothing about this and I have no need for a NOKIA 3310 when I own an iPhone X Max. He clarified.

This seemed to annoy her the more and she dragged him once again ripping the buttons off his shirt. The husbandman, infuriated after so much restraint and by reflex smacked her across the face just to reset something and get her to think straight. It sounded like thunder.

From all analysis this may have been the wrong remedy as she started hitting her own head on the door and any plane she could find to make it worse, now that there is someone to blame for it. She was no sooner looking like a cast from walking dead. Mission accomplished.

Now they had to drag themselves to the waiting hands of the police officers at the nearest station. This kind of situation is a Coup de Foudre (love at first sight) for the Police with their usual viral miscarriage of justice. “Ha, na you ‘woundjure’ this woman like this?”

The policemen exclaimed passing instant judgement while the drama queen played to the gallery seeking sympathy. An IPO was assigned and he demanded that the woman be treated first with medical report provided, while the husbandman was detained.

The dark stench of the turn of event was worn with a staring glance. It’s now clear that the desperate understand the language of desperation better than anyone else. When the drama queen returned, she had a long medical report that could have been from a sole survivor of a plane crash.

Even the IPO had to ask if it was her real medical report or she was given a wrong one. In the said medical report she claimed her genotype changed from AA to SS, that she was a few days pregnant now lost without a trace and insisted that the husbandman must be held responsible.

I may not be a qualified physician and I regret giving this impression, but what could be the connection between a smack across the face and the loss of a non-existent pregnancy? Unless of course the fetus was in her mouth. Peradventure her mouth may have been the entry point, could fertilization possibly occur there? But I digress…

So I had to wade in at this point for sanity to reign. The husbandman‘s only fault here was his inability to maintain restraint. The Police were very understanding, they knew this shouldn’t warrant a forensic examination but arbitration. They appealed to all parties but…the drama queen insisted the case must be transferred to higher authority as she hopes to retrieve her misplaced pregnancy and switch her genotype. Even the DPO suggested that the only thing that he would recommend as a magic wand is a Marriage proposal at that point.

After hours of detention and fulfillment of the cost of medicals which inlcudes the ridiculous, the husbandman was released. But the drama queen was still insisting that she would rather die than let this go. She was asked if a new phone will solve her problem but she insisted on the miracle of a genotype switch.

Days went by and everyone avoided the petulant and delinquent sprite. We could have granted her the right to our bedrooms upon demand for the avoidance of her nemesis. I couldn’t help but hear her giggle that morning while on a call. I peeped and there she was with her NOKIA 3310! 🤔

Who knows if the few days old pregnancy was also retrieved from where the other presumed lost items were recovered. Couldn’t say much about the genotype switch for no one dared ask. I was glad we moved out of the “Arkham Asylum” before she struck again.

I read on Facebook that she’s getting married to an unlucky fellow named Lucky. Can’t even begin to fathom the kind of offertory required to appease the gods on their solemnization. She may be half an idiot but I guess it is the other half that counts. You fell for her too.

Please regardless of what lies beneath do not hit a woman or anyone for that matter. Raise your argument and use your words in a civil manner. Simple cases get complicated when you assault your Neighbour.

Inspired by true events.

#EndGenderBasedViolence.

PhotoCredit: TobbsArt