Truth Syndrome

“Oh! My God!”

“What have I done?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Have I been jinxed?”

“Or is it a curse?”

“Why can’t I just tell a little lie or a half-truth?”

“See what I have put him through.”

These were the words Clive muttered. Clive Anderson is the accounts officer of a corporate firm. Some money was supposed to be remitted to him. There was a delay from the quarters. He approached the department and the head explained to him the reason for the delay. He had used the money to attend to a very pressing need since it would not be needed anytime soon.

“But you would have requested for a loan,” Clive suggested.

“No, I don’t want to,” Owen replied.

“Why?”

“I just requested for one which is still pending. Precisely, l requested for it fortnight ago.”

“So how do intend to pay this?”

“Since it will be used by month's end. Then there’s no problem with that.”

“How about if it’s needed before then?”

“Nah! Noooo, it isn’t possible. It has never happened that way before. Not at all.”

“At times in life shit happens. Expect the unexpected.”

“Huh, that’s true.”

They both stared at each other for some minutes. They then devised a means. Clive had agreed on what to say. It was a cogent one. It indeed happened as Clive foresaw. Before the month's end, the M.D asked that the money realised be remitted to him. He noticed that it wasn’t complete, that there was an imbalance somewhere. He confronted Clive on the issue. Instead of him saying the money was used for an online transaction to procure goods that would be needed for a bidding and that there was an official delay from the supplier’s end, he spilled the beans. He told the M.D what actually happened. Owen was reprimanded and given two weeks suspension. The days of his absence would be deducted from his salary. Clive felt bad for all he had caused. He wasn’t himself for days. Owen wouldn’t believe that he couldn’t help himself. Telling lies doesn’t come easy for him. He would call him Judas. That he wanted to be in the M.D’s good books. A cheap favour seeker.

He was taking a walk down to work one day. He decided to alight some few bus-stops away from his office so he could take a walk. His doctor advised him to try doing that a while that it was beneficial to staying healthy. Suddenly, a man breezed past him pushing him aside. It seemed he was in a haste but courtesy demands he says at least a sorry. He didn’t bother nor bulged. Clive wasn’t any important. He had moved some metres away when his wallet dropped. It dropped beside a poor beggar. He picked it up, opened it, took some few notes and tossed it back on the floor close to a pole some distance away from him. The man stopped beside a newspaper stand and on reaching out to get his wallet, he noticed it wasn’t with him. He ran back with a flash of lightning looking around at the same time. He saw it beside a pole. He heaved a sigh of relief. But opening to check, he noticed the notes had reduced. He brought it out to count. His observation was confirmed. He looked around suspiciously on those standing by. There were people waiting on queue to board a bus. The poor beggar was also standing by. He looked at them with a sneer.

“I know one of you got my money? Who is that person?” He asked. No one seemed to pay attention to him.

“Own up!” he screamed. “It’s my hard earned money,” stressing the word, money. But no one seemed to care.

“Please can I have my money back,” he finally pleaded with a pity look. Everyone seemed to disdain him. His first impression was apologetic.

Clive was already at a very close range. He could see the drama very clearly. His sympathy cords were struck.

“I know who took your money.” Everyone's attention was drawn to him.

“You say you know who is with my money,”

“Yes I do,” Clive replied.

“Please tell me,” the man pleaded.

“That poor beggar standing there!” he points at him.

The man seemed to be frozen like as if time stood still. Awoken from his shock, he was about to run but it was too late. The man had already caught him. Pleading, shaking and crying, he handed over the money. The man gave him a big slap on his head. The poor beggar shivered and trembled. The man thanked Clive and left hurriedly. Clive was now the cynosure of all eyes. They looked at him disdainfully. Some even cursed and abused him. He looked at the poor beggar curled up on the floor beside a beam pole. His heart sank. He felt so much pity for him. He brought out some money to give him. He didn’t take it neither did he lift up his head. Tears welled up Clive's eyes. Why can’t I just let situations be? Must I interfere? Must I tell the truth? These were the thoughts that ran through his mind.

One of his neighbours was having issues with her boyfriend. He was too possessive and a wet blanket. She decided to give herself a break from him. She was travelling for some weeks and wouldn’t tell him. She was going to her aunt’s place. She knew if she told him where she was going. He would come for her. He was a desperate lover. She was like the air he breathes. Leaving him was like leaving him breathless. But she had no choice. He was draining her. She was losing her marbles. She was close to Clive. They attended the same college. Not only that, they were in the same department and the same class. They were good friends but parted ways after college. Like a flowing stream, they met as neighbours. She told him where she was going but pleaded that he shouldn’t ever tell her boyfriend. She said she was sure he would locate her if he told him. Clive promised not to tell him. She thanked him and hugged him. She promised to back hopefully in some weeks time. Clive never kept his promise. He was back from work, tired and needed some rest. His phone rang. It was Sally's boyfriend. He didn’t want to pick the call. But he thought, it was better he spoke with him on the phone than seeing him in person. Reluctantly, he picked the call.

“Hello! Clive.”

“Yeah! Hi! Barth.”

“Please have you seen Sally lately? Her number hasn’t been going through.”

“Uh, no, haven’t seen her,” he stuttered.

“Please tell me. I beg you. Am so worried. Can’t reach her. I'll die if anything happens to her.”

“Uh. OK. She said she was travelling to see her aunt Betty. She said she’ll be gone for some weeks.”

“Ok. Thank you so much. Am indeed grateful.”

“No problem. You're welcome,” he stuttered.

He puts down his phone and shakes his head. ‘What was he going to do about this tell-truth syndrome?’ He thought. It’s costing him so much. ‘Probably I need to say a therapy,' he suggested to himself.