The Intervention
He was in his room praying in tongues when he heard a commotion in his compound. “We will destroy everything. You cannot talk to me that way; take your hands off me! Who are you! Who do you think you are! You cannot address me! By the time I am back with my boys, if everything stolen has not been restored, I will shut down this house.” One yelled as he overheard them amidst much noise.
He was handling some matters in the place of prayer, and he did not want to leave, but the agitation was getting escalated. He left his room and walked into the scene. The boys were not in their shirts; their faces were red, with all manner of inscriptions on their bodies. Their breath oozed all manner of hard drugs; you could barely have fresh air around them. He gazed at the loudest one, touched him, and asked him what happened. For the first time, there was a breath of fresh air, and he spoke gently. His two devices had been stolen in a matter of days, and he wanted them back. It was a place where more than 30 phones were charged freely every day. It would be difficult to pinpoint the thief except if the devices were found on him or her. It was found on no one, and he was ready to cause chaos in the neighbourhood. Clearly, some gadgets had been stolen even beyond theirs.
They were a group of boys you would call children of anarchy; neighbours did not want anything to do with them. Despite the rancour they caused that day, no one in the neighbourhood came out to intervene. They would watch the affected people burn rather than allow chaos to spread to them. The accused people said they knew nothing of the devices stolen, and of course, there was no shred of evidence pointing to them as the thief, and it was an irrational conclusion. The boys needed their gadgets back, and there was no thief; it was a dicey situation. The errant boys had put some of their folks to tail two of the guys they wanted to fight, they were ready to maim. It was the world they live in and enjoy.
He told the boys to go home, and that he would get it resolved. The boys want all their gadgets back; for the accused, they did not steal anything; they offered them their facility in good hearts for the neighbourhood, only to be accused. The mediator must find a middle ground, or else the errant boys will cause mayhem and their weapons of mass destruction will be waiting; not even their mother can tame them.
After some moments, he went to their house, where he met them getting high on drugs with several empty bottles of alcoholic wine littering the ground. On sighting him, they asked him if he was a pastor or something. “Did you speak to us with charm? I have never met you, but I respect you. You are the only one who can speak to us; you are the one we want to speak to. Not even our mother could say anything, and we would listen.”. He smiled. “I want to pay you,” he responded. “No, we won’t accept anything from you; they are the ones who should pay,” they replied. “But they did not steal your gadgets,” he refuted. “No, they did,” he replied. As the conversation progressed, he discovered that there were lingering issues that had built up over time. He told them he would come back. He went and spoke to the family, then went back to them. “I will give you a part payment for one of the gadgets stolen, and no more than that.”. They accepted. He shook all of them up in good spirits and left. They completely forgot about the havoc and put their boys off their targets.
