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There were thin and bleak sounds, noises that were either real or imaginary. A sound of a wild bird in distress from a far, an owl maybe or a cardinal, accompanied by what sounded like uneasy movement and groaning noises from within. Those unnerving noises that make you believe hell is real and the damned has flung the gates open. He was in the police cell, the cell had huge shelves and guys were sleeping on the floor like they always do. You might have met this somewhere; you might have heard of it from the walls of your sitting room or the streets. It is a tale of this guy Boniface Kimanyano Ayoti, an epic face of crime, larger than life. A guy whose weakness was crime. Anything criminal triggered something in him. Something that not only made him content but also put him in a zone where nothing else could. Even though it can’t tell it all, Bonnie’s face is a tale of crime. Before you hear a word from him you know he’s not been an average human being. He has a swelling just above
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