Silence; This Culture Must Die

Silence: This Culture Must Die
By Kingsley Momoh 2020

Abisoye Akanmu was my closest friend at a polytechnic in Ogun State in the late 90s. We were close and it gave many the idea that we were lovers. The best description of our relationship is that we were brain mates. She was always ready to explain easily how lecturers came up with answers to confusing questions in Mathematics, statistics, and even the accounting sums. She was blessed with the gift of explaining in ways that gave me a full grasp of the concepts of the problems that I would rather wait for her turn to teach me than solely depend on the lecturers. I tried to understand their lectures when they started new topics in calculations but many missed it when they started calculations, which became the Chinese language to my ears and eyes.
On the flip side, she depended on me when it came to explaining those courses where questions like similarities, qualities, features, differences, and other terrible confusing questions are asked. I took time in brightening the dark areas to her and I also formulated formulas to remind us of the answers. My techniques of reminding myself of the subjects always amazed her. We were a super team at studying together; yet, we never sat close to each other during exams because we saw it as cheating. Other students described us as Efikos in those days. We usually preferred getting to the examination hall a minute or two late by going to the loo as soon as the call to occupy the sits was made because we didn’t want to be copied or asked questions during exams by other students.
To the best of my good boy knowledge, she didn’t have a boyfriend. She had told me several times that she didn’t have one because she had plans to go to the university via direct entry as a family tradition after her OND. She couldn’t be described as being social, but she was vast in knowledge of social issues than even those that could easily be described as such.
However, her fashion taste must have confused many people because she was a fashion buff. She had a great dress sense which garnished her natural beauty. She matched colour for colour, and she had a style of walking that attracted the attention of men and even women. Of course, many said she was a show-off because of her style despite not being the usual campus girl.
We joined a student Magazine club called “the facts” where she showed class as a top writer and thought provoker. Her articles created devoted followers although she used the pen name Bifaya Morsel. There was nothing called social media in those days in the 90s. Many campus magazines in that era weren’t the conventional magazines you know; they were similar to billboards, but they were boxes with glass doors that had articles posted inside for the school community to view at a spot in the school. The facts was the most followed on campus.
Bisoye’s sense of humour was top-notch, yet she couldn’t be described as a clear-cut introvert or extrovert. Though a devout Christian, you would never catch her at any Christian gathering on campus; she only attended church in the town where she was a member of the choir. She refused to join any other student organization apart from the facts. Bisoye could speak some Arabic she learned from the books of her uncle who was a Muslim. She could dazzle any crowd with her music prowess as she could not only sing very well, but she could also dance and rap! She has mimed the song of Lauryn Hill titled ‘that thing’, ‘minds playing tricks on me’ by ghetto boys and ‘fly girl’ by Queen Latifah and I marveled. She could do the rap parts of the songs without any stress. Bisoye was a complete package of a woman, and she kept making everybody like her as a result.
She anchored the election of the class governor when it seemed we didn’t have a leader one week into class. She got everybody nominating her for the post of the class governor after she addressed the class during the early days of our first semester of the reasons, we needed a duly elected leader via an all-inclusive election.
Nearly everybody unanimously nominated her, but she humbly declined that it was one of the things she had promised herself not to be involved in. The class refused an election for about 3 days afterward pleading with her to lead the class. When it was glaring, she wasn’t going to bulge, she was told to nominate anybody and whoever she nominated will be the governor. And that is what she did when she nominated a female Munirat and a male, Ijoba as governor and assistant respectively. Before this day, I had also pleaded with her not to nominate me for such roles too because it would cause a distraction for me. The whole class adopted the nominees as the governor and assistant without any election. That should expatiate on what I mean by the grace of the personality of Bisoye.
Thus, becoming her friend after a brief argument on a topic in a course called ‘Citizenship Education’ blessed me. Before us being friends, Bisoye wasn’t known to be particularly intimate with anybody. Though she was friendly, she didn’t have anybody we all could describe as her ‘pal’; her real personal person as we say in pidgin English. Our connection was a big deal for me. She rarely hung around people when there was no lecture. It was either two of us hanging around or she would be at the library; although she told me that she was also praying that one day we would be friends because she felt I was exclusively intelligent and that I was a wonder with the way I placed questions to the lecturers.
We usually met after school from about 5 pm at her place or my place depending on what we agreed before leaving school or sometimes, we stayed back in an empty class to help each other out. Although some days, we didn’t find a reason to meet.

One day, we didn’t have the opportunity to choose a meeting place and time because she had a visitor from another higher institution in the state. I met the visitor for the first time a few days after we became close during our first semester. She introduced him to me as Lanre her childhood friend who was like a brother. She told me that he was an executive of the National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS) and he and other team members came for a state executive meeting. So, when I saw him hanging out with Bisoye again, I wondered if they had another meeting again since it was the second semester. I walked up to them and pretended I didn’t recognize him.
“Soye what’s up, are we going to see today?”, I asked as I got to where they sat in the garden of a quad angle at the center of the school.
“Have you forgotten Lanre?”, Bisoye quickly responded with a smile.
“Oh, Lanre, I knew I have met you somewhere but I have forgotten”, I said with the most awkward apprehensive voice as I stretched my hand out for a handshake.
I am sure Lanre knew I was being mischievous with that statement. He simply smiled and shook his head.
“Soye, so are you coming over?”, I asked leaving out the other part of the question which should be if she would come over to teach me statistics. I wanted the Lanre guy to imagine that Bisoye and I had a closer tie than he could imagine. I didn’t like the fact that Bisoye gave him premium attention. I felt he got too much attention from her.
“I will come and see you if there is time”, Bisoye said.
Satisfied with her response, I said ‘okay then’ and left. I felt satisfied by her answer; feeling that I have put the Lanre guy in his position. It was around 2 pm and I had to hang around my male friend, Ijoba for the remaining part of the day.

I left school much later and slept for a while and when it was some minutes past 5 pm; I decided that since Bisoye couldn't make it over to my place, I decided it was wise to just walk up to her place. I figured she may have forgotten or was tired to walk to my hostel which was 5 minutes from hers. I wanted to know if she could elaborate further on the lecture, we had that day.
Her room was one of about ten in a block of rooms on a line in a gated compound of about 3 plots. She had a balcony with a table and chair where we usually used for our discussions. As I approached her room, I noticed her door seemed to be shut but I had the urge to go and give a check. As I got to her door to knock, I heard what seemed like Bisoye was sobbing and I didn’t bother to knock and I barged into the room. She wasn’t alone; she was with ‘her friend like a brother’. They couldn’t hide their surprise by my presence. However, the shock on their faces called for concern. Everything seemed normal except that Lanre and Bisoye sat together on her bed. As a rule, Bisoye never allowed visitors to sit on her bed. She has a three-sitter sofa in her room which she usually enjoined her guests to use including me. So, seeing the guy on the bed gave me a shock. It made me forget to ask if she was sobbing or ask if something was wrong. Seeing the guy on the bed gave me a shock. I felt betrayed and was dumbfounded.
“Why will you just barge into somebody’s room like that”, I heard the guy say. I didn’t know what to say and I tried to see what Bisoye had to say in response. I looked at her face, but she turned her head down.
I choose to ignore the visitor and spoke to Bisoye
“Soye (that’s what I called her), are you okay? Is everything okay?”, I asked.
I was shocked when Bisoye responded with a voice I have never heard her use at me before. It was on top of her voice in anger.
“Kc, what is the meaning of this. Why didn’t you knock before you entered? Please leave, leave!”.
The way I felt…hmm, I cannot easily describe. I was between crying like a baby and barking like a dog tied to a chain at an assailant. It seemed like it took like an hour before I truly understood what she said because my legs suddenly felt unmovable; I suddenly felt thirsty and felt like crying at the same time. However, I later got to understand that it took less than a minute for me to vamoose.
I turned around and left the room, I didn’t know what to think or do. I lost my self-esteem; I judged myself to have been too ‘unhappening enough’ for Bisoye. I judged my clothes and shoes to be another reason why Lanre may have been her boyfriend. Most of my trousers and shirts were hand-me-down clothes from my elder brothers and my father. Although it wasn’t obvious, I suddenly felt inferior in them and immediately regretted that I have made mentioned it to Bisoye. I have also revealed to her my family background which I suddenly felt ashamed of. I regretted telling her all the information I told her about my family, upbringing, and even my aspiration of becoming military general. 
I was disoriented and I almost fainted as I headed for my hostel. The vision of Bisoye telling me at different times why she doesn’t have a boyfriend and won’t consider one too started playing back to me. She lied to me kept ringing in my mind. The first time she told me that was I entered her room for the first time; I had commended her on having the comfiest room in the school. She had a colour TV which was a rare item at that time, her sofa; she also had a blender, a small gas cooker unlike most students 9most of us used kerosene stove), she had a beautiful red wall-to-wall rug, and she also had a large bed with the full-frame unlike most students including me that had their mattresses laid on the floor as beds. Furthermore, she had a wardrobe and a similar-sized cupboard. Bisoye room was a perfect example of a student living large. I told her that day, that her room was nothing like the room of a student further saying that her parents must be rich. She told me that I shouldn’t always believe everything I saw saying that it was her Uncle who wanted to ensure she lived a comfortable life on campus that furnished the room as a promise he made to her when I made the wish after I scored A in all my O’level subjects.
In my quest then to understand her relationship state; I said that her boyfriend was a lucky guy as she was a total package any man would want to have as a girlfriend and even a wife.
“Wife kwa?”, she laughed. “My guy, I don’t have that idea in any way. I don’t have a boyfriend right now and I don’t even need one too, all those toasters you see me agree to listen to their ministrations are just entertaining me and assuring me that I am still eligible in the market”. We had a good laugh that day and I didn’t bother to ask any more questions in that regard that day. I was happy that she didn’t have a boyfriend and I assured myself that I stood a great chance at being that boyfriend if she ever desired, as long I was around her. 
So, you can imagine the heartbreak it was to have been told to leave. Ha! It wasn’t expected by any means.
I walked to my room blinded by the thoughts of what just happened and kept imagining what could have happened that resulted in such a horrific response to me. I locked myself in my room and played some of my favourite tunes at that time. I had a collection of reigning songs I recorded from RayPower jams; like ‘everyday people’ by Arrested Development; ‘I believe I can fly’ by R Kelly, “Back and forth’ by Aaliyah, And the many songs of Celina Dion particularly the one titled ‘it’s all coming back to me’; and it was when the song titled “Another sad song” by Toni Braxton played that made me cry. I cried like a baby for a reason I couldn’t describe. I pitied my parents who struggled to send me to school. I told myself that I was a failure! I was a failure because I couldn’t get the girl I wanted. I cried the more when I remembered that some girls have boldly come to ask me out and I told them I wasn’t interested. One of the girls that asked me out has said to me that she gladly accepted Bisoye as her conqueror in the battle for my love. It seemed nobody believed my truth about Bisoye and I. And I slept.
I woke up with a headache; the type I usually had then on one side of the head called migraine. It was there, but I was strong enough to go to school which was about 10 minutes away. I got ready and didn’t bother to take breakfast which usually served as my brunch. I never bought any food in school because I was careful not to mess with the little funds I had and Bisoye was a great help with foodstuff. She usually augmented my supplies from hers.
Apart from that, she usually urged me to join her for breakfast whenever I got to her place in the morning or when she tells me to come early for a special breakfast which happened often. Many times, I also ate dinner at her place. Thus, saving me money and time of cooking, and she never complained.

Her hostel was on the way to school so usually, I passed by her hostel; but that day, I didn’t bother. That morning while taking my bath, I preached myself to accept that Lanre was Bisoye’s lover, and she has been using me to prevent aspiring lovers from disturbing her. The taunts by some male classmates prior that day then made some sense. Some used to tease me and called me the John Baptist of her real lover; others called me the ‘bodyguard’ while some regularly said ‘we are brothers and sisters in the Lord’ in a mischievous way. I found their assumptions funny and didn’t bother to accept or refuse their claims because at the initial stage when I did, I discovered that it made them coin more narratives. However, the majority of our classmates thought we were a strong item. I realized it was difficult to believe the type of relationship we had; and certainly, I would have also shared their views if I wasn’t the person in the picture.

As soon as I got to class; the lecturer entered and lectures began. During the lecture, I looked out for Bisoye. She usually sat in the front row like me, but she wasn’t there. I stylishly dropped my pen and turned around to pick it to have a quick view of the class but I didn’t find her. And I suddenly grew weak. I started imagining her in the hands of Lanre again. I decided that women are wicked which was the slogan of many guys who have had terrible experiences with women. I started seeing horns grow on her head in my mind! I imagined her and Lanre laughing as I left her room and describing me as a John the Baptist!
After the first class, a mutual friend and class governor, Munirat came to me.
“Where is your wife?”, she asked.
I was infuriated. She had called me that several which I didn’t mind but that day was different. I felt it was a humiliating question and the height of disrespect that I brought to myself. I suddenly charged at her “I am not married!”
Munirat was shocked.
“Is that why you had to shout at me?”
I quickly got myself together and said
“Well, if it is Bisoye you mean, I am not her husband and I don’t know where she is. By the way, I am not her keeper”.
A male student who overheard what transpired laughed and asked me when I suddenly changed from being Bisoye’s keeper. He said that no one as far as the school was concerned could give a better answer as to the whereabouts of Bisoye than me. He said he suspected we have had a quarrel, or I was just playing games with my responses.
And I smiled and said 
“Okay, sir. I know that I am not her keeper or her roommate”.
The discussion was going in a direction that I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle so, I left the class. I wandered away and I later found myself passing by her hostel towards mine!
The door to her room from the view outside was locked. I imagined Lanre was still around and that was why she didn’t come to school.
I walked to my hostel and went to sleep but woke up a few minutes to 5 pm, and I was getting prepared to go to Bisoye’s place when I remembered the situation on the ground. I sat down and began worrying about her again. Something said I should go to her place, another said Lanre might still be there. I listened to the latter and sat back to study alone.
The next day, I looked out for her, but she didn’t come to class and Munirat once again beckoned on me and I simply told her that she should please desist from calling me Bisoye’s husband before it generated danger for me.
Munirat wondered why I said so but I didn’t give her an answer. After the last lecture of the day and responding to enquiries about Bisoye from classmates without them mining any credible answer from me, Munirat cornered me on my way home, and she said she was going to visit Bisoye as a friend and class governor. She urged me to go along with her but I refused but accepted to follow her to the gate of Bisoye’s house only.
When we got to the gate, Munirat told me that it was unfair if I would behave the way I did because something may have happened to Bisoye. She said I should put aside whatever may have transpired and for the sake of the good times we have had, consider checking up on her because it would be bad if anything bad had happened to Bisoye and I turned my eyes away. I thanked her for her care and obliged her.

As it has been, her door was shut and I had the same thought that Lanre was inside the room with her. However, after knocking on the door for a while and calling her name several times; we noticed an envelope tucked into a corner of the door. Munirat pointed at it and wondered if somebody else has put it there for Bisoye.
As we pondered over that, a lady came out from the room next to hers and walked towards us.
“Hello, good afternoon”, she said. “Pardon me but are you Kc?” 
I nodded.
And she removed the envelope that was tucked to the corner of the door and handed it over to me. It was a white envelope addressed to me!
“Please do you know where Bisoye is?”, I asked.
She shook her head and said Bisoye told her two nights before that she was going back to Lagos and told her to give me this letter and that was all she knows. She said she affixed it to the door in case I came when she had gone to school. She further said that Bisoye said you would be using the room too.
I thanked the lady and she returned to her room.
Her information got us agitated. We wondered what could have made her leave to Lagos at night? The night I met her and that Lanre guy.
I opened the envelope and it had a letter and her door key inside. I quietly read it thus:
Dear Kc,
Please read attentively. I am so sure you hate me so much right now but I would assure you that it is not as much as I hate myself. There is something important I have to tell you but it may have to wait till we meet.
I have left for Lagos and chances are that I may not come back but if I do, then we will talk before the end of the semester. I dropped my key so that you can use my room if you want and also make use of anything you want in my room especially the drinks and the food items. For your convenience, you can take the television to your room since the world cup starts next week and I may not be around and even if I am, I want the television to be in your room.
Don’t panic. I am sure everybody is on your neck regarding my whereabout, you can tell them that I had to attend to a family function which would take some days.
Bye for now.
Bisoye

Munirat stood and looked away all the time I read the letter. As soon as she noticed my head was up, her face glowed with anticipation of what information I had for her.
“So where is Bisoye?’, she asked with her eyes wide open.
I smiled at her and feigned a laugh and said everything was alright that she had gone to attend a family function in the far north and it’s gonna take some time before she returned.
Munirat smiled and it graduated into a laugh.
“You are not a good liar but I will manage that as an answer as long as you are sure she is okay”.
I shook my head and didn’t respond further.
“I hope you can now release me”, I said.
“With all pleasure, but please try and get her to come back to school quickly. Exams start at the end of this month as you already know. And with that, I headed to my hostel.

Bisoye was absent from school for one week. I only went to her room to ensure the foodstuff was in good condition and I only cooked and fried the chicken and turkey I found in her freezer and put them back in the freezer. I ensured I didn’t take anything. I didn’t even bother to watch the TV which was a rare commodity among students.
Well, I was in my room one two Saturday evening when I heard a gentle knock on my door. I was already nearly certain that the person behind the door was Ijoba my friend who had told me he was coming to get a textbook.
The knock changed from gentle to a little bit loud and I jumped off my bed to see who was at the door. As I opened, guess who I saw?
It was Lanre! The same guy who Bisoye had introduced as “a friend like a brother” bla bla bla.
I wondered how he got to know my place then I wondered if I was safe to even see him but my hunger for the whereabout of Bisoye made me go outside the room to listen to him. I felt he may have some information about Bisoye.
I looked sternly at the guy and looked through the corridor of the building maybe I was trying to see if Bisoye was with him or maybe he had some other accomplices.
“What do you want”, I asked him.
He was quiet for a while and it was then I noticed that the guy looked sober.
“Have you seen Bi?”, he asked
I felt angered that he called her Bi…it sounded horrible! I nearly shouted that her name is Bisoye nigga!
This was the same guy who harassed me at Bisoye’s apartment the other night now asking me of here whereabout. You can imagine my disappointment with the question. I felt like saying what insolence! But I dared not. Lanre had a beard without a moustache and his head was shining bald; that was one of the logos of tough men in school in those days. What I mean is that he looked like a cultist. Tall, lanky but well built with black lips and a long beard – you can imagine while I respected myself.
“I haven’t but I thought you should know, the last time I saw her, she was with you”, I said.
He was quiet for a while as he nodded.
“So, she didn’t tell you anything?”, he asked.
The conversation was becoming uncomfortable.
“Oga, is there something you want to tell me?” I asked, “I am doing something of great importance inside”.
“Please tell me if she told you anything’ he said again; this time he sounded scared. The tone of his voice got me worried.
I assured him that I haven’t heard from her since the last time we spoke. I then revealed that She said she was going for a family function and that was all. In some ways, I was happy that it seemed I was the exclusive owner of the information of her whereabouts that even her seeming lover didn’t even know.
He was about leaving and he turned around.
“If you see her, please tell her that I am so sorry. I am going back to my school tomorrow”.
Sorry for what I wondered.
Many things ran through my mind as he walked away… I am sure your guess is the same as mine. Maybe or maybe not.

Something told me to follow the guy and ask more but I was scared of what may follow. His looks cautioned me and I didn’t want to push my luck too far.
Bisoye and I had had issues in the past but we got it settled ourselves within days and never have we been this separated for this long except during semester breaks. And usually, whenever I got back to school after the semester break, the first person I usually went to look out for was Bisoye. She always got to school before me. I didn’t understand how as she said her parents lived in Igarra, Edo state. Her fast journey to Ogun state was always a wonder to me. Even when I get to school a week before resumption, I would meet Bisoye. So, you can imagine how much I missed her then.

The new week started and Bisoye wasn’t around and the semester exam was drawing near without any info about her than what I already have. Everybody in class constantly wanted to know about her whereabouts from me despite telling them that she went for a family function. They wondered what sort of function would take more a week.
I dreaded attending lectures because somehow, Munirat had told someone who told another someone who eventually told some other ones and the other ones told nearly all the others that Bisoye left a note for me with contents that were only known to me. It was a week of answering questions. Everybody wanted to hear what I read from the mysterious letter.
And to clarify issues, they wanted me to show the contents to everybody in the class or safely post it on the board of any the factsthe press club we belonged to for all eyes to see and ascertain that indeed, its what I said that is in it. The craziest part of the story was when some said that since I was an Ibo guy, maybe I have donated her to some ritualist for blood money.
I was worried and didn’t even know if showing the letter would make them calm or infuriate them the more because they would find out I wasn’t telling the truth all the while and may even question the authenticity of the letter.
Thursday of that week, which made it two weeks of her disappearance, my life experienced a new dimension. It all started during the 2nd lecture of that day. It was a cost accounting class. The lecturer, Dr. Badmus asked for her whereabouts
“Where is Miss Akanmu?”, he asked.
The response was unbelievable, all eyes were suddenly on me. I didn’t quickly notice until the lecturer brought it to my notice.
“Why is it that all eyes are on you Mr. man?”
I looked at the lecturer and back at the class and realized what was happening. Then a male classmate Adekola-Adekoya who Bisoye had revealed to me has been professing love to her, spoke first.
“Sir, he is the one who made the last contact with her and, it was that she even left a note stating where she was going, for him”
Then my eyes moved to Munirat; she hissed and took her eyes away.
It was then I realized I had some cool explanations to do or else I could get myself in some trouble.
Adekola-Adekoya continued,
“Sir, because Kc is an Ibo boy, it is enough substantial evidence to believe that he knows more than what he is saying, thus, he is hiding something from us all about the whereabout of Bisoye Akande.”
I took my gaze to the Adekola-Adekoya and I then turned to the lecturer.
“Sir, em, Bisoye seems to have gone to attend to a family function. That is the much I know of the situation”, I said.
“That’s all you can say?”, the lecturer said, “but from all indications and murmurings, it seems you know more than you are telling the world. Or why would all these persons think you know more than you are saying?”
“Exactly sir”, added Adekola Adekoya, “sir, we all suspect Kc; we all think he must have..., he must...”
“Mr. Adekoya, what are you saying?”, the lecturer shouted in anger.
“Sir, the thing is that we suspect he kidnapped her and is pretending with the story that she wrote him a letter and all the nonsense he has been saying”.
The class bust into a deafening round of voices at once. Some were against Adekola-Adekoya and maybe some were for me or just talking but surely, I heard a lot of more voices for the postulation of Adekola-Adekoya. I turned my gaze to Munirat and discovered she was on top of her voice pointing at me angrily.
Omo, I was shocked and scared at the way human beings could make up stories without any proof. I turned to look at the lecturer and he smiled at me. He shook his head motioned with his hands for me to come forward which I did.
He put a hand on my left shoulder and said quietly to me amidst the whole noise.
“Come and see me in my office in 10 minutes”.
He faced the class and calmed the turbulence.
“Hello, all, Please let me have your attention! Your allegations are grave. Certainly, you understand the consequence of what you are saying.; if indeed, you think this man here has done what you said he has done, I think you shouldn’t waste any more time. Go straight and make a proper report to the DSA (director of student affairs). This will enable proper investigations and hopefully, the truth revealed”.
His statement which further weakened me created an uproar and I heard 
“Yes, yes”, in agreement.
The lecturer calmed the class as Munirat raised her hand to speak.
Munirat stood up to speak because she was the class governor. She looked at me and then faced the lecturer.
“Sir, I made a report this morning and the DSA said that they will begin investigations”
My mouth opened in amazement. As I wallowed in confusion, Dr. Badmus took the spotlight again
“That’s a good move. So, let’s patiently await their investigations and stop unfounded statements which may cause further problems for this man. Madam Governor, please you should be seen as a rallying point than being seen as taking sides.”
“Sir, I am not taking any side. I stand on the side of justice. I cannot sit down and watch while he walks around freely. And sir, I have also reported to the SUG to ensure that no stone is left unturned”
I looked at Munirat for a long time and wondered what did to make her push to the level of instigating the class against me.
Dr. Badmus shook his head and advised that the SUG may not be the best to handle the situation. Events that followed proved the man right.
He left for his office and I picked my notebooks with the plan of going to the quad angle to spend some minutes in thought before heading to Dr. Badmus’ office. My loyalty was top notch. I didn’t like disappointing people. I am the best person to tell anything you don’t want any other person to hear. You can describe me as an information bank. I see loyalty as the best and proper thing to do in any relationship. Thus, I was so loyal to Bisoye that I didn’t divulge any information she didn’t want me to.
And as I left the class, some classmates including my friend Ijoba came to me in solidarity. They told me that I shouldn’t mind the claims that Bisoye would soon show up and my accusers would all be put to shame. I was told that I had a lot of enemies as a result of my closeness to Bisoye and that Adekola-Adekoya was just a jealous guy who saw me as the stumbling block towards Bisoye. I thanked them and continued walking promising them that I was innocent and do not have any skeleton to hide.
Ijoba then held shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. My eyes were already blurry with the accusations.
“Guy, no dey lie for me, you fit tell me true. I don dey ask you since say wetin happen, you dey tell me say you no know. You no even tell me about letter wey she write you. Anyway, na you get your life, but just know say if you wan talk to anybody, I dey here and these guys also dey. We know say you no kidnap am”.
I removed his hands from my shoulders and hugged him and sobbed for a second or two. I felt some kind of comfort doing that.
I assured him that I was innocent and I would be vindicated with time. They left me and I decided to head to Dr. Badmus’ office because I have spent nearly 10 minutes already.
A few seconds after Ijoba and the other guys left, I got accosted by the Students Union President and some other known faces among the executives. They were about 5 leading what I would term as a small crowd of about twenty.
“Stop there right now”, were the words I heard from about 5 students at once.
I turned around and saw the crowd. But with the SUG president, I felt a bit calm.
I stopped to face them. I also saw that Munirat and a couple of my classmates were part of the crowd.
“As the President of the Student Union Government, I hereby declare you under arrest till the issues surrounding the mysterious disappearance of Bisoye Akanmu is unraveled”, he said with the kind of energy a police officer will showcase as an officer of the law.
I laughed and exclaimed 
“Chineke me!”, and tears started coming out of my eyes.
The next voice I heard was Munirat’s.
“He has used her for money rituals!”
I looked at her, I was flabbergasted and let me just use this word that I created; I was Supergasted.
“Your crocodile tears won’t save you Mr. man,” shouted the SUG President. The next words he said were, “take him away”.
Two hefty students grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me up while two others grabbed my legs and supported the lift. They turned around and it was like I was floating in the air dangerously. As they moved, the crowd grew and the whole school was in disarray. I was treated like a convict. I found my hands in handcuffs and slaps, punches, knocks and all sorts were my lots. Everybody wanted to have a glimpse of me. Some spat on me, others threw water on me. I saw a lady who has professed her love several to me without success pour what I believe was urine on me. Kai! It was a terrible experience. Na like this person dey take die? I asked myself.
I pleaded that I was innocent and it was a big mistake. But my crying and pleas fell on no ears. Soon, the whole school was chanting “kidnapper!” And I was locked up in a cell in the Aluta building (the headquarters of the SUG). I didn’t know it had a cell until that day.
The cries of “kidnapper! Armed robber” kept on outside. And you can relate with Aluta cries. Another chant was 
“Castrate him, Castrate him!”
The world came to an end. I thought I deserved the chance to a fair hearing but I was already judged and convicted before anything. I wanted to understand that the SUG was going to just lock me up without hearing my side of the story but no one was going to speak to me. After about 30 minutes of detention, I heard the sound of a siren. It gladdened my heart so much, as I hoped that it was the police as that would guarantee that I won’t lose my life as the police would save me. The police came and the cuffs were removed to be replaced by the police cuffs that included leg chains!
Yes! It was like from fire to frying pan. They took me towards a Police pickup van that had about 5 other men and two ladies all lying down some wounded and I saw a familiar face!
It was the face of Lanre!!!!! that friend like a brother guy". He was also in handcuffs and leg chains. I became really afraid and wondered how I got myself into the mess. I started imagining all the nonsense probabilities in the world.
I wondered what may have happened to Bisoye. What was Lanre doing in the custody of the police? To say I was confused and afraid is just the best way I can use English to neatly explain what it was like. As I got into the pickup with all the claps and jeering of the students, I felt a blow come to my face and I fell headlong into the pick-up van. I must have passed out because the next place I saw myself was at the school clinic.
*************************************************************************
I thought it was Heaven as the white ceiling stared at me without shape. The ceiling fan running its course that I later noticed eventually erased that thought of being dead off my mind. As my gaze dropped, I noticed the SUG President who was quietly looking at me. He called my name and when I responded, he went to call a nurse who attended to me.
“How are you feeling now?”, She asked.
As I tried to speak, I realized I had pains in my mouth and I could easily speak. Anyway, I managed to say I was okay.
“Do you feel pain anywhere?”
I tried to get up but she urged me to lay back on the bed. I looked at the SUG President.
“Mr. President, I didn’t do anything, only GOD can save me…”, I said with tears running out of my eyes.
He came closer and held my left hand and knelt with both knees and tears streamed down his face from his eyes. He asked for forgiveness because he has hurt what he called in Yoruba “my eleda”. He said that he was given wrong information and he didn’t behave as a leader should. He said he was so sure from all he was told by my accusers and with the pieces of evidence in front of him that I had a lot to do with the whereabouts of Bisoye.
I cried some more as my memory started replaying the agony of the event after my arrest by the SUG team and the crowd.
He kept pleading. The nurse also knelt and asked that I forgave him that he has not left my bedside since I was brought there from the police station the night before. I didn’t remember getting to the police station!
Well, let me not bore you with the whole story. I got discharged from the clinic a day on that evening which was a Saturday and I realized I spent two days there from the day I was arrested. The Rector of the school personally came to witness my discharge alongside other principal staff members of the polytechnic, the SUG executives, some of my classmates including Ijoba. The Divisional Police Officer of the town’s police station was also on ground to witness the discharge. It was like a grand ceremony. “Sorry” rented the air and it was a big relief to me.
Despite the slight body pains I felt, I was eager to know the truth. Since they seem to have discovered that I didn’t kidnap Bisoye, I wondered what the situation turned out to be. I was picked up by Dr. Badmus my Cost accounting lecturer. The SUG President and the Vice-President were also in the car and we drove straight to my hostel.
On the way, we didn’t talk much. The men talked about the world cup and the matches. No one spoke about my issue. At intervals, Dr. Badmus would ask if I was okay to which I would nod my head.
As soon as I got to my hostel, other residents came out to say “sorry” to me. As I got to my room, I touched my pockets and realized my keys weren’t with me. And as I was about to say it out Dr. Badmus handed over a new bunch of keys to me and it was then I realized the lock to my room has been changed. I was wondering why this was so as I opened the new locks.
I opened the door to what seemed like someone else’s room. Well, it would interest you to know that one of the consequences of my arrest is that my room was burgled and all of my belongings were burnt to ashes. I mean everything! Everything I had. I was only lucky that my cherished documents were in Bisoye’s apartment because she had a box that she had told me was fireproof. If those documents were in my room, I would have lost it all.
Imagine if I had taken Bisoye’s 14-inch colour TV to my room, na so dem for burn am!
Well, as a popular Yoruba proverb goes, ile oba to jo, ewa lo bu si which simply implies that the inferno that destroys the home of a King only beautifies it.
I had a 3 by 5 feet mattress as my bed but I met a brand new 6 by 6 mattress, a bigger cupboard, a gas cooker and cylinder, new set of pots, a new table, and chair, the room had wallpaper on the walls (my walls that weren’t even painted). That is not all, I noticed new buckets a big size electric kettle and a normal kettle, electric cooker, etc.
Now, the most interesting one of them all is that I saw a 14-inch colour television and a hanger of new clothes. I didn’t notice all these at once but I gradually came to that. Well, I was urged to lay on my bed but I was not interested in that so I sat down. Dr. Badmus told me that he would like me to come to see him the next day in his office as he would answer all the questions, he believes I had in mind. They hung around for a while before leaving.
Not long after they left, I heard a knock on the door. It gave me a scare. I was afraid and I asked with a loud voice.
“Who is there?”
The voice of the visitor shouted back
“It is me Ijoba”
I went to the door to open it and realized I had some beautiful and stronger security locks. I opened and there was Ijoba and some other residents of my hostel building.
I invited them in and it was interesting having them around. They narrated how the school got into a frenzy with my arrest and my co-tenants described how a mob came to break down the locks of my room and brought out all my belongings and burnt down everything. They said they were even afraid that they were going to burn the building down.
They congratulated me and I told them I was happy the Rector was at the clinic to personally witness my discharge. I was also told that Munirat and Adekola-Adekoya were in the Aluta cell awaiting my discharge from the clinic.
I was shocked, they told me that they were the ones who wrongly accused me of being a kidnapper. Anyway, none of the visitors who were about 10 could say what the true state of the situation was. All they could say was that they heard that NANS executive from a university in the state-led a gang of robbers to kidnap Bisoye and that Bisoye was safe. However, I was told that they are yet to see Bisoye in school or her hostel.

The story didn’t make sense but I was happy they came to visit and they gave some interesting news. They didn’t stay long but I was glad they came. I slept off anticipating meeting Dr. Badmus the next day.
I took my time and took my bath. And as I was searching for my toilet soap, (I was a fan of Imperial leather), I noticed packs of imperial leather, Lux and Joy toilet soap. Men! I mischievously laughed and said to myself, “it seems the beating make sense o!”. As I prepared breakfast, I saw that I had cartons of tin tomatoes, noodles, geisha, sardines. Milk and other provisions. Once again, I said to myself "this beating make sense o!”.
I left home with a new bag. Dear reader, I also had a complete set of all the textbooks; even those that I didn’t buy because I couldn’t afford them. I said to myself once more “this beating make sense o!”.
And as I was about leaving for school. I was surprised to find the SUG President with his official Peugeot 504 car. He told me he has been waiting outside for me since 6:30 am and the time was 8:30 am. He said he came to personally see that I got to school early that day if I wanted to. On Saturdays, we rarely had lectures but when it was close to exams, lecturers fixed makeup classes to cover the topics we missed.
So, having a ride in the air-conditioned car of the SUG president to school was an awesome experience; and of course, you guys know what I said to myself again “this beating make sense o!”.

I got to class and I caused a stir. Everybody was saying sorry and sorry and sorry. I was a STAR! Other students from other classes and all departments took their time to have a glimpse of me. If it was this era of social media and smartphones, I would have trended on all platforms.
.............................................TO BE CONTINUED.

THANKS FOR READING THIS.
YOUR COMMENTS ARE GOING TO BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED.
THE FULL BOOK WILL BE PUBLISHED VERY SOON.
SAY NO TO RAPE


1 comment

Adesanya said...

This is really touching. I didnt know when tears oozed out. You both are inspiration to the world. One love bro and kind regards.

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