Ahh! The only moment that will remain
indelible is the seemingly brief twilight that shun over my face after a
striking slap brought me to the reality of events making the rounds. It dawned
on me that the police cell is not a place of ceremonious begging where words
are on bargain in exchange for favour induced by pity. I was at the police
station. And my thoughts streamed to my small stature; peradventure my release
would be hinged on that if considered. My family! Yes… no one had a glimpse of
where I was and it was getting darker by the second. Guess the cause of this my
ordeal on the 22nd of December, 2005… a PlayStation game.
My aunt recently
got marched to the altar and I wanted to do one of my routine visits. Before
then I’ve made a discovery of a PlayStation shop nearby (we just call it ‘PS’
in the area) and a guy opposite our house in the street owned it and I could
play some game on a free ticket. From the downward hub of Ilaje in Bariga, I
made my way to Odunsi, delivered a package to my aunt and decided to get some
free game plays before heading for the house.
I entered the shop at about 6.PM (some guys were already there battling it out with themselves using their favourite teams). A game console was free. “Yipppeeeee!” I screamed to myself. I took the game pad, switched on the console and sat on the long bench that supported everyone’s buttocks while we enjoy the game. Suddenly. Somebody say suddenly (…lol), some fierce looking young men entered through the door closing the iron bar gate behind them. I wondered what was going on. But before my wonder could hold some steam, I’d already received a ‘slap of life’ that shut my mouth up. We were rounded up right inside the shop and led in a single file to an already waiting van outside. A little boy (perhaps between the ages of 6 and 10) was let go because of his age and plea of his mother that apparently lived in the same compound.
At the Police Station: Sitting in an uncompleted building brought many thoughts to me. “Why me?” I asked. On the 22nd of December? Three days to Christmas? Worst of it was that the next day was our church’s Teenagers’ Get Together that has been planned by the committee I happened to chair. All was falling off the cliff in that little moment of my world. “How long will I stay in that place?” How many days? Will I celebrate Christmas there? What was my offence? My offence? “Yes!” I almost screamed out. I was not playing the game. Yes! I was not playing. I only sat there but the ‘crime’ weapon was in my very hands. How pathetic! I (we) sat on waiting on fate.
Our names were collected and as the day was getting darker we were led to the counter then later to the cell (but not the inner cell). The dons in the inner cell barricaded by the iron gate away from us called me but I refused, still shaking from what has become of me all of a sudden and where my ‘real’ name has been written; in the ‘black’ police book. Now what made me start begging any policeman that came into where we were to call some persons whose ward have already come for their bail was what one of the inner ‘dons’ said. He said “tipe tipe ibi nan le ma wo. E wa ba wa” I understood what that meant. It meant “After all is done, you’ll still be brought inside here to meet us” My life was ending right before me as young as I was. It was now around 8.pm.This time I remembered prayers and started it immediately. I continued begging everyone that came into the cell to take someone out. One fierce looking man came in. Again I begged. Then came another high flying slap! It brought me to the reality of events making the rounds. It dawned on me that the police cell is not a place of ceremonious begging where words are on bargain in exchange for favour induced by pity. I mellowed and resigned from sanity to await my ‘bosses’ inner the cell. Mind you I was in secondary school then and not up to 18 years of age. I was still basking in my ‘slappy’ ordeal when a church member (quite older) had his twin brother around to bail him. I was happy! Finally I’m leaving (or so I thought). All to my surprise, the young man bailed only his twin brother on the excuse that it cost him 4,000 naira and promised to tell my siblings I was in police custody. Back to square one! But thanks be to God, the owner of the PS shop came, spoke to the police boss and we all that were picked from that shop were let out and in turn we prostrated in front of the police boss outside saying “Thank you” before heading for the Police gate. I’m pretty sure, monetary power changed hands.
I raced back home hoping no one is on my trail to force me back to that hellish place. I got home around 9.pm and headed for the bed immediately without saying a word. My older brother, sitting and waiting outside called me and asked where I was coming from. The twin brothers must have told him I guess. But I was let go seeing the shock still inside me. I went to bed and till today no one ever spoke or asked me of that experience.
I entered the shop at about 6.PM (some guys were already there battling it out with themselves using their favourite teams). A game console was free. “Yipppeeeee!” I screamed to myself. I took the game pad, switched on the console and sat on the long bench that supported everyone’s buttocks while we enjoy the game. Suddenly. Somebody say suddenly (…lol), some fierce looking young men entered through the door closing the iron bar gate behind them. I wondered what was going on. But before my wonder could hold some steam, I’d already received a ‘slap of life’ that shut my mouth up. We were rounded up right inside the shop and led in a single file to an already waiting van outside. A little boy (perhaps between the ages of 6 and 10) was let go because of his age and plea of his mother that apparently lived in the same compound.
At the Police Station: Sitting in an uncompleted building brought many thoughts to me. “Why me?” I asked. On the 22nd of December? Three days to Christmas? Worst of it was that the next day was our church’s Teenagers’ Get Together that has been planned by the committee I happened to chair. All was falling off the cliff in that little moment of my world. “How long will I stay in that place?” How many days? Will I celebrate Christmas there? What was my offence? My offence? “Yes!” I almost screamed out. I was not playing the game. Yes! I was not playing. I only sat there but the ‘crime’ weapon was in my very hands. How pathetic! I (we) sat on waiting on fate.
Our names were collected and as the day was getting darker we were led to the counter then later to the cell (but not the inner cell). The dons in the inner cell barricaded by the iron gate away from us called me but I refused, still shaking from what has become of me all of a sudden and where my ‘real’ name has been written; in the ‘black’ police book. Now what made me start begging any policeman that came into where we were to call some persons whose ward have already come for their bail was what one of the inner ‘dons’ said. He said “tipe tipe ibi nan le ma wo. E wa ba wa” I understood what that meant. It meant “After all is done, you’ll still be brought inside here to meet us” My life was ending right before me as young as I was. It was now around 8.pm.This time I remembered prayers and started it immediately. I continued begging everyone that came into the cell to take someone out. One fierce looking man came in. Again I begged. Then came another high flying slap! It brought me to the reality of events making the rounds. It dawned on me that the police cell is not a place of ceremonious begging where words are on bargain in exchange for favour induced by pity. I mellowed and resigned from sanity to await my ‘bosses’ inner the cell. Mind you I was in secondary school then and not up to 18 years of age. I was still basking in my ‘slappy’ ordeal when a church member (quite older) had his twin brother around to bail him. I was happy! Finally I’m leaving (or so I thought). All to my surprise, the young man bailed only his twin brother on the excuse that it cost him 4,000 naira and promised to tell my siblings I was in police custody. Back to square one! But thanks be to God, the owner of the PS shop came, spoke to the police boss and we all that were picked from that shop were let out and in turn we prostrated in front of the police boss outside saying “Thank you” before heading for the Police gate. I’m pretty sure, monetary power changed hands.
I raced back home hoping no one is on my trail to force me back to that hellish place. I got home around 9.pm and headed for the bed immediately without saying a word. My older brother, sitting and waiting outside called me and asked where I was coming from. The twin brothers must have told him I guess. But I was let go seeing the shock still inside me. I went to bed and till today no one ever spoke or asked me of that experience.
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