P*nis And V*gina Were Scattered Everywhere; I Wept Because I Was Innocent By Firsts Baba Isa

 



 

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)

1 Comments

  1. False accusation hurts so badly. The feeling is indescribable.

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