One Sunday afternoon, I borrowed a bicycle from a boy named John and rode it from the church to my home. A boy gave me the bicycle and told me that he would come later to get it back. I traveled by riding the bicycle to my house. After arriving, I left the bicycle outside, went into my room, and changed my clothes.
Once I changed, I went outside to ride down to a field where they were playing rugby. Suddenly, the bicycle stopped moving, and when I turned my head, I noticed a drunkard trying to pull the bicycle away. I didn’t know where he had come from, so I told him, “Please, I want to go. Just leave me alone.” The drunkard replied, “Give my bicycle back to me.”
I explained, “This bicycle belongs to John. He's waiting for me outside the gate.” He insisted on claiming the bicycle, and I offered, “If you need a cigarette, I'll buy one for you.” I reached into my pocket to get some money when he swung his fist and elbowed me, knocking out my teeth. I felt unconscious.
Five people were watching and confirmed that the bicycle did not belong to the drunkard; it was John’s bicycle. The next day, I went to the police station and filed an occurrence report along with a medical report. I informed my family about the incident, but they were not concerned about it. Ultimately, I didn’t want to pressure anyone to help me, so I decided to forgive the drunkard because I didn’t have the money to pursue legal action, as everything now seems to revolve around money.
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