THE UNTOLD STORY OF A RAPE VICTIM (Series 2)

She tried listening to the Agricultural Science teacher but her mind kept replaying the events of that day, wishing she could turn back the hands of time. If she had not walked that day, she would still be a virgin. Maybe if Ifeanyi had not given her the gold wristwatch and her teacher, the lead-actress role, she would not have walked. Looking at the watch now, strapped on her wrist, feeling no iota of the elation she felt that day. Jerked back to life by a tapping on her table, she realised the teacher was in front of her desk asking her a question. Mumbling some non- commitant words, she rose to her feet. Her teacher perceiving that she looked lost inquired if anything was the matter, she said no. the bell went, and that ended the class. The next day, Ifeanyi was in class and she dreaded the confrontation. She avoided him during the lunch break, but he caught up with her after school. He beseeched her to tell him what happened, he sought her eyes but she couldn’t look him straight in the eyes. After a lot of cajoling, she broke down in tears and narrated all the gory details. He wanted to take her in his arms but she shrinked back still in horror. Stroking her hair, telling her it was O.k., he gently took her in his arms, but still she pushed him away. Not knowing what to do, they stood looking at each other, she with wet eyes, and he with a pained look till they heard a car horn. Instinctively knowing it was her mom, she turned to go, he called her name and said, “I still love you.” With fresh tears, not turning back, she ran to the car.
For two weeks, filled with mixed emotions, she avoided him. A part of her wanted the relationship they had before the horrible event happened, another part of her did not want to have anything with the opposite sex. In school the next day, during Math class, she felt an urgent urge to vomit and ran to the toilet, she was there for over 10 minutes, felt someone handing over water to her, then a handkerchief, she turned and saw Ifeanyi, with unshed tears in his eyes. He had been staring outside, unable to concentrate in class and had seen her run past. Exams were in two weeks, yet his head was in shambles. Though he was just 18 in S.S.2, Jennifer was his first love, they have been dating since she was in J.S.S 3, and now, he just wanted her to take him in, to share her pains, her fears, and her worries with him, like they’ve done for two years now. Still feeling nauseous, she requested that she wanted to go home and he offered to take her. He called a cab, on the way to her house, he told her how he felt, letting her know he just wanted her to share her worries and fears with him. She didn’t reply. When they got to her house, she alighted, mouthing “thank you”, she entered the house. Her mum wondering what the problem was, for her to be home so early inquired. Flippantly, she answered, “I vomited in school”. Filled with dread, her mind quickly darting to the events of the events of that day, she scooped her up, ushered Jenny into her car, and left for the hospital. On arrival, a series of tests were taken. Thanks for 21st century technology; results were ready in 30 minutes. As Jenny and her mother wee ushered into the doctor’s office, she sought his face but it was a mask specially built over the years. Both were gently but thoroughly questioned, when was the last time Jenny was sick? Has she been sexually active? Does she have a stable partner? At this instant, it was as if a volcano erupted inside her, “yes, I have been sexually active, I’ve been fooling around with my boyfriend of two years. Finally, I had sex 3 weeks ago. I was raped doctor. Are you satisfied now? Yes, I was raped. Yeah, I was raped! I was raped… like the rhythm of a traditional ballad! Story, with each new sentence, her vocal increased till she had to be forcefully given a sedative. At this juncture, the doctor broke the news of the test results to her mom, “I’m sorry ma, but your daughter is 3 weeks pregnant.” As if the screaming torch had been passed, the mother began, “oh, my God, pregnant?… she is only 15!

EPILEPTIC POWER SUPPLY? WILL SOON BE HISTORY- BASOLA AFOLAKE

Based on the current value/ exchange rate of the naira against the dollar, Nigeria’s government officials spend millions of naira every year on overseas trip under the guise of wanting to learn how things are being done over there. Lo and behold! In regards to Power Supply, that is no longer necessary because Bonny Kingdom at our doorstep here has the solution to Nigeria epileptic power supply. In July year, this community will celebrate 7 years of uninterrupted power supply. (Re: See Guardian, Saturday June 21, 2008; Business Roundup). At this stage, it suffice to say if Bonny Kingdom can do it, then Nigeria can do it.
Last administration, the power sector gulped 126 billion naira. Last year, on the federal allocation budget, we spent 18 billion, yet with no visible results. This year, the budget cannot be ascertained yet. Few weeks back, his Excellency, President Musa Yar’ Adua got a 600 million dollars loan from the World Bank which is to be gulped by the power sector. Furthermore, in line with his Excellency speech on May 29, it is obvious that the government does not have a clear-cut plan for generating power supply. He admitted that it is not within his knowledge the amount of megawatts that would be sufficient for Nigeria’s consumption, now or in, the future.
First of all, the government must realize that this solution cannot be procured all by themselves, they need outside help. Thus, they should be ready to enlist the help of private companies companies to carry out this venture. Succintly put, it would be a joint-venture between Nigeria government and private companies. Specifically, multi – national companies whom are ready to do it, not out of gain, but borne out of a desire to make Nigeria a force to reckon with, in the World. According to studies by International Energy Agency (IEA), access to modern energy services is a key to social and economic progress in any country. Also, long standards rise sharply as per capital energy consumption increase. Economists have long established a strong correlation between poverty and lack of energy.
Secondly, Power Holding Corporation of Nigeria (PHCN) needs to be scrapped, and a new utility company created. At this juncture, I would strongly suggest that, these acts should be done by state governments and not federal. Essence of this is, residents of each state must be stakeholders for this to work. An individual of good reputation should be picked from each local government to form the members of the Board of this new utility company. Human behaviour have shown that people work better and have higher likelihood of being honest when they personally have something at stake. Furthermore, with the joint finances of the MNC and the state government, a plant would be built and its power capacity would be attracted to the generating plant of oil companies or those multi-national companies if its plants have enough capacity to carry it but if this is impossible, then the new built plant would be connected to the plant that are functioning properly. Every house, company or industry would be reconnected to the new built plan free of charge or a subsidized token fee that is well affordable would be installed to each house, company or industry.
I strongly recommend that Lagos be a model city for this project. Studies in the last 10 years have shown that whatsoever Lagos state government decides to do, they excel remarkably. Mario Caenan, the former General Manager of Bonny Utility Company (BUC) and John Heijland, the celebrated engineer who led Bonny out of the epileptic power supply are role models whose styles need to be steadfastly learnt. Thus, they should be allowed to train technicians and engineers in each state, who would then transfer this new knowledge to other technicians and engineers employed in the utility company.
Conclusively, grave attention and absolute digestion of this sound idea, though still rough at the edges would definitely lead to something concrete and Nigerians can enjoy uninterrupted power supply before 2011.

THE UNTOLD STORY OF A RAPE VICTIM- FOLAKE BASOLA

Wow! Today was like a dream, two climaxing events had taken place in her life. Her face was so filled with excitement; you would think it would burst. During lunch-break, her Literature-in-English teacher had summoned her to his office and informed her that she had been chosen as the lead female actress in “Efumaya”, the highly looked forward-to school play. She had screamed with joy, she so much wanted the role that she had kept awake many nights rehearsing and perfecting her lines. To crown it all, after school, the love of her life, Ifeanyi had given her a gold wristwatch with her name inscribed underneath and signed, “with love your heart”. So she had chosen to walk home even though it was a long walk so as to reflect on the day happenings. After he gave her the watch, they took a walk, fooled around a bit before they departed. Now giggling, she thought, well, everybody fooled around even if today it had gotten heavier than usual. Hmm…could life be better than this at 15?
So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she did not notice a shadow cross her path, and was taken aback when a cloth covered her mouth and she was violently pushed to the ground off the footpath. Immediately realizing what was going to happen, she began struggling, but the man on top of her was too strong. Two blows to her stomach took away her breath and hot tears came out of her eyes. With the little strength left in her, she continued struggling. Her mouth securely gagged, with one hand he held her hands from clawing at his face, using his body weight to suppress her other struggles, he tore at her school uniform, pulled up her skirt and tore at her panties. All this while, telling her to be still and it won’t be painful, he entered her. She screamed with horror and kept screaming till he punched her again. He told her she deserved a slap but he did not want to hurt her pretty face. With that, he stood up and walked away. She stayed there crying for hours, still in shock but numbing realizing her parents would be agitated by her absence, she stood up and continued for home. On entering the house, her father turned to berate her for coming home so late, but instantly paled when he saw the state she was in, her mother began crying.
While he asked what happened, she kept looking at him with dead eyes. Not until her mother slumped on her did she take cognizance of her environment and their presence, instantly shaking and mumbling, “he raped me, he hit me, but would not hurt my face.” Her parents were torn, they wanted to report to the police but also wanted to save their daughter the trauma and them, the embarrassment. In the long run, they decided not to go to the police, concluding that the police would not bring the culprit to book even if she recognized him because Nigerian security system was filled with too many loopholes. She was treated at home, a special nurse was called and her parents called school that she was sick. Nobody, not even her love was allowed to see her. After a week, her parents invited her for a heart-to-heart talk. They asked her what she wanted to do now, in a little voice, she said, she did not want to go back to school. They cajoled, reasoned and pleaded with her that what she needed now was for her life to return to normal as much as possible, that it was the best antidote for her healing.
With fear and trepidation, she stepped out of her mom’s car and entered her school gate. Immediately, all her friends rallied round her, talking at once, “ how are you now? What was the nature of your illness? I was at by your house over 20 times but your parent s would not allow me see you, was your sickness infectious?” She tried answering the question as best as she could. At the bell, they all walked briskly into their various classes.
To be continued…

IN MEMORY OF OPE.

Without an iota of doubt,this was definitely not my article for this week. Infact, it took precedence over others, especially a juicy article on Nigeria’s No 1 Problem “Power Supply” titled ‘Epileptic Power Supply? Would soon be History!
With sadness and grief,totally bereaved, do i share my thoughts with you. Like a thunderbolt, awareness of the unfortunate event dawned on me…a bright young girl, just in her prime, recently completed her 4yrs programme in the university and …Phew! Life is snuffed out of her. A fatal car accident.
It’s flabbergasting, everytime i reflect on it, i find it unfathomable. Just like that? I still saw her less than a month ago at a cousin’s (whom the deceased and I both sccoted with, for a year) wedding.
I wouldn’t say she was perfect, no, far from it, for everybody is born with weaknesses and strengths based on their temperament. But she sure had an affable personality,a giving spirit, and on the general, was a pretty nice person.
Filled with a kindred memory, i remember when she gained admission.i had just resumed for a new session and was thus opportuned to live with her in the same flat all through her stay in school. Now, due to my close proximity with her and time spent together, i am filled with unfulfilled wishes. Things i wished i had done, words i wished i had said and the likes.
As we sojourn through life, everyday we meet people, some leaving an imprint in our lives and hearts, either negative or positive, some passing with no effect whatsoever. Bizarre happenings like the one i just witnessed forces you to reflect on what part you have played, if you should have done more for that young chap or lady. Consequently, you are thrown into confusion via a mileage of questions throbbing through your head, have you been a good friend? have been appreciative of your friends? have you impacted them positively?…
At this juncture, i implore you all reading this now, to observe a minute silence for my cousin,Ope Banwo, who passed on ,Sunday,16thJune,2009 at the age of 23.
P. S Remember her friends, family and parents especially in prayers, that God will comfort them and give them the strength to bear the loss.

THE LOVE OF A MAN(CONTINUED)

Eyes blazing with anger and hurt, the people demanded that the king carry out the gods request straight away. Promising that he would do it before daybreak, he dispersed them. Going straight into his inner room, he seriously pondered on what he should do. At last, he decided he would send Ettesar to his cousin, a king in a village forty miles away. He called his three most trusted servants and gave them this assignment. As they departed with Ettesar who was filled with mixed feelings; thrilled to be travelling but sad that her father was not going with them and would be joining them in a few days instead. If only she knew, it would be the last time she would see him, she would not have left willingly.
The dawn of the next day met the people of the village and the priest in front of the palace demanding the girl be brought out to be killed. The king derobed of all his royal garments came out and in a repose manner told them she was no longer available to be killed. In that case, they shouted, the king will take her place. The king did not protest at such request. Quickly, the gods were consulted to know if the king’s blood would be enough appeasement. The gods requested that the king and his two most senior sons be killed. Instantly, the sleeping boys were dragged out. The people carried them and pushed the king, all the way to the evil forest. As the king watched in horror, his sons were killed. Crying out in a voice filled with guilt and rage, he cursed the gods and was killed by the people.

THE LOVE OF A MAN

It was the silent tears of the new bride of the King. Completely disconsolate,she still could not believe this treachery committed by her parents. Her only consolation was, 2 nights ago,she had given her best and priceless gift to the love of her life,her virginity. Shehad laid in his arms and as they consumated their love knowing it would be the first and last time,they wept. Tonight,she knew,he would leave the village never to come back as he could not stand the agony of seeing her at the side of another man.
He was astounded by his good luck. She is so beautiful,with her equisite shaped face that begarred that of a goddess,dark and curly hair,her petite figure. But she is so young, just 18,guiltily he broods on having to take her so young. But as he watches her,his manhood is stirred and he gets excited about tonight.
2 eke market days have passed,if one looks closely,you could see the roundness of her stomach and hips. As she sat by her husband for lunch,she stared into his eyes and she knew,nobody had ever loved her like he did. He was always gentle with her, believed her cock-bull story of how she lost her virginity, patiently waited for her till she felt the same way about him as he did . Since the fist day with him,he has never spoken a harsh word to her,even in the early days when she tried all her best to goad him to beat her, he never got upset. Today, she said and meant every word of it,”i love you,my Highness. All of my being,this day,i give toyou.”
Four full moons after,apprehension written all over his face as he waited for the cry that would signal that his heir has been born. As dusk came,he lost his patience and it took the priest reprimanding him for daring to commit an abomination that stopped him from going inside. At last, he saw the head-wife emerged from the room with a baby wrapped in her arms. He held it and asked for his wife,as he saw the helpless expression in the eyes of the head-wife,he knew he would never see Nkem again. He broke inside but as a King, he dare not show emotions.
As the years passed,he took great care of the last gift she gave to him,Ettesar. To the dismay of the other wives and household servants,he decreed that she spent her nights in his room even as she grew up.
It seems,as he never recovered from her death,so the village never did too. From the night of her death, strange occurences started happening. That particular year,no single farmer was able to harvest anything. Gradually,as if life was being sapped from the village,animals started dying. A family would go to bed and wake up to realise that their mule,their major source of income was dead. It became commomplace to see dead birds,chickens litter the roads in the ewe hours of the morning. After a while,life became difficult for the inhabitants of the village,a delegate was sent to the King compelling him to call on the gods and to inquire the cause of all these surreal occurences.
The King sent for the Priest. At his arrival,the gods were consulted.Shockimg news it waswhen the priests announced that an abomination had been committed in the palace and that was the cause. Further inquiry showed that,it was the late Olori that committed the act. The gods went further to pronounce that if appeasement were not made to the gods soon,worse thing would happen in the village. The King asked, “what kind of appeasement do the gods require?” “Bloodshed”, the priest replied. Bloodshed not being new,the King affirmed it, but the priest next utterance got him reeling, “the gods have required her seed be shed to appease them.” After composing himself,he stated in explicit terms to the priest that nothihg would make him sacrifice Ettesar to the gods,and walked into his palace.”
Till the early hours of the morning, he pondered what his jewel could have done that would warrant this sacrifice the gods were asking. As dawn approached,as if by divine insight, he knew it was the loss of her virginity. As old as the village, was the tradition that the King must be the one that deflowera his wives, same goes for all the Princes. So profound was this tradition that, the princesses were obliged to marry whoever disvirgined them. In the not-so-distant past, a princess had been raped and was compelled to marry the culprit. Now,this archaic tradition had come to claim the apple of his eyes,his sunset,his priceless gift. He decided,he was going to fight whoever and whatever demanded he shed her blood as long as he had breath. With this last thought, he closed his eyes and was enveloped with peace that comes with sleep.
At the next market day, while people were buying,selling,going about their usual business, what seemed like thunder struck. Except that as it struck,people were falling down dead. Pandemonium struck, sellers left their goods and ran into town,buyers left their purchased goods and ran for their dear lives. In panic, stampede became the game of the day. Truly, it was a day of horror like none before. Most people found their way to the Palace, some wailing, some shouting. After a considerable time spent calming them down, gradually, the events that happened was related to the King. Inquiries by his men showed that nothing less than 20 people had died that day in the market. As if sentby the gods ,the priest chose this traumatic time to appear. Immediately he was sighted, the people turned on inquire from the gods the reason for thas bizzare event. Looking calm, he told them that the King was the reason because he had refused top carry out the demands of the gods and the worse wer yet to come.
To be continued…

Life is a step – Folake Basola

Life is a step
Who will climb first
Life is a line who will take the hook
Life is in stages who will arrange it
Life is a song who will play the tune
Life is a mystery who will unfold it
Life is a story who will narrate it
Life! Life! Life!
Nothing compares to it…