By Abdool A. Aziz

THE villagers of a rustic community woke up to find a stranger squatting on a reserve on the main access dam to the pastures and sea-wall. He kept to himself. They called him ‘Coppa’ because of his copper-tone complexion. Though they worried about his presence and intention, they ignored his presence. He quickly erected a shack.

But soon he began refusing access to the land. Cow-miners and beach-combers were prevented from going about their business. He erected barriers and ran a barbed wire fence. The villagers tore it down. He began planting nails in the grass, the people weeded the dam and got rid of all the nails, though some folks got injured. His next nefarious move was to cut the dam. The folks built a bridge over it. Then he unleashed his pit bull. The authorities had to put it down as it mauled a child. The evil man got locked up many times but continued to pose a threat to passersby. The authorities demolished the rickety dwelling. He fled into the bush and set up a make-shift camp. He was a real menace. Then he began using a sling-shot to injure the folks who he deemed trespassers. He felt he owned this piece of land. The folks decided to go after him.

One night a vigilante group raided his camp. He was not there. They torched his camp. He was hiding in a bunker. And he continued his criminal escapes. Then he started throwing faeces in the pathway. Even dead fish lined the dam.

One night while doing the nasty act, he stepped on a piece of wood that had nails sticking out. This was the same type of weapon placed in the dam’s walk-way earlier. The nails were still sharp but rusty. He was badly injured and bled profusely. He scraped off the bark of a moco-moco tree and placed it on the puncture wounds. The bleeding stopped. He limped away into his bunker crying out in pain. His very nails got him. Now the wounds got infected. Gangrene stepped in. the rusty nails caused blood-poisoning. He lay there, wincing in pain and dying.

One day, a villager, passing smelled a stinking odour coming from the bush. He thought it was a dead alligator. He moved on. The next day he saw the carrion crows on the treetops and the stench grew stronger. He decided to investigate and to his surprise, ‘Coppa’ lay dead. The authorities simply dumped his corpse into a remote grave. No mourners! Instead, there was a celebration. Now there was full and unimpeded access on the reserve – called ‘Coppa Dam’. How ironic!