On
the morning of 11th July 2012, I was taking a stroll on a path close to our
house in Ogoja; I was lost in thought when I heard a sob just in front of me. I
moved forward and looked closer: a girl, about 11-12 years old, sobbing
heartbreakingly.
She
wore a sky- blue gown that has seen better days; she was seated in the short
bush beside the path with her legs stretched out on the path. Infact I saw the
legs first before seeing the body, the small fragile body, trembling with heart
wrenching sobs, my heart broke. O what will make her cry so badly?
I
asked her what was making her cry. She lifted her flooded face at me and cried
the more. I lifted her up to a standing position. She collapsed on me and cried
bitterly. Oh my God. I bent down to her height level and hugged her fully, she
cried on my shoulder as she whispered “Brother I didn’t do it.”
I
didn’t know what she was talking about but I told her I believed her. And I
did. She cried the more, my eyes welled with tears. Then finally she was able
to tell me why she was crying. “They said I was the one that took the N50, and
my mum believed them. But Brother I am not the one,” she looked pleadingly into
my eyes.
“What is your name?”
“My
name is Mary.”
“Mary,
I believe you.”
She
looked into my eyes, clasped me tightly and cried. What happened was that a N50
note went missing in their house, someone accused her and everybody, including
her mum concurred. They didn’t really beat her, but if you were ever a child
like her, you will know that the pain of false accusation is worst than 1000
strokes of the cane.
I
took her home and angrily confronted the mum. I ranted about child abuse and
quoted some chapters and sections of some laws. Whether e correct o, oho. E no
concern me. The whole town knew I will be going to Law School the following
year and whatever I said about law should be correct.
The
mum apologized at the way she handled the issue and I turned to leave. Mary
looked at me with pride and awe in her eyes, with an expression on her face
that was too sad to be a smile and too cherry to be a frown. She was glad I
believed her, and apparently proud of me for defending her.
“Dont
worry Baby, that’s why I read Law,” I told her with my eyes. As I left,
memories flooded me. I have been there, where that 12 year old was. I
remember...
I
remember when things will be missing, when things will go amiss and I will be
accused wrongly without a chance to defend myself. I remember the day N5 got
missing in the house, them say na me carry am. I stood there condemned of
something I didn’t do. They later saw the N5, and do you know the conclusion?
That I was the one who went and dropped it!
I
walked to a little stream called Ogoga, sat at the bank and wept. That day I
swore to be a lawyer and I vowed that the first person I will jail will be my
mother! She joined them in accusing me wrongly, I couldn’t forgive her.
Well,
I ended up reading law but of course I forgave my mum many years ago, infact
that very evening after a sumptuous meal. But I still remember. I remember one
incident in particular...
I
was 13 and preparing for baptism. I sat down outside reading some materials. At
the far end of the compound a group of teens were peeping through a key hole. I
didn’t really know what they were seeing inside and I wasn’t interested. Infact
I tried dissuading them from such but they reminded me that they were not
interested in my churcheous, religious and bookish lifestyle.
I
told them they will go to hell and they told me to go to my hell.
After
a while I got up from where I was sitting and started strolling across the
compound. As I got close to where the Peeping-Toms were, they scattered in
different directions. I was still wondering who or what was pursuing them when
a half-naked man opened the door briskly, dragged me in and shut the door
sharply, saying “I think you want see, come inside come see well well.”
My
pleas of “Brother I no join o,” fell on deaf ears. He pushed me into a chair,
put on the light in the hitherto semi-dark room and behold right there, before
me, was a naked man and naked woman. Very naked! I shudder at the sight.
“Brother,
I swear I no join.” I begged.
They
didn’t answer me. Penis and vagina were scattered everywhere. I went on my
knees, declaring my innocence and begging them to release me from this Sodom
and Gomorrah. They did not answer me.
Everywhere
I turned, I saw breasts, chests, buttocks, laps, legs, backs, waists.
“Aunty
I no join, abeg.”
Hairs
were everywhere: head hairs, armpit hairs, penis hairs, vagina hairs, and for
the first time I saw buttocks hairs.
O
God! I started to weep bitterly. To think that I’m preparing for baptism; how
can I see all this and still make heaven? I was sure I was going to hell.
Then
they started kissing and... I screamed at the top of my voice, a long scream.
People rushed to the door and I was released.
I
cried and cried.
Was
it because of what I saw or because I was innocent. I cried all day and all
night. My mum threaten me, I sobbed. She begged me to stop, I cried. She cried
with me, I wept.
That
night I couldn’t sleep. Whenever I close my eyes, I saw a battalion of breasts,
arm with swords made of penises chasing me. I will wake up and cry. My mum
didn’t sleep too.
The
next day I was running temperature seriously. They had to rush me to a
pharmacy.
It
still hurts me to think that I was innocent.
Have
you ever been accused wrongly? Have you ever been punished for what you didn’t
do?
-
Written By Firsts Baba Isa (FBI)
False accusation hurts so badly. The feeling is indescribable.
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