ABSU rape scandal: Can we learn? (Published in Punch, This Day, The Nation))

The recent shocking news of a five-man gang that allegedly raped a female undergraduate student in Abia State has generated uncontrollable outrage both at home and abroad. The international community and the human rights groups especially have risen to condemn the barbaric act, challenging the country to uncover the perpetrators or risk sanctions. The social media where the buzz emanated has also been alive with new revelations as the hunt for the 'Five Evil Men', as one blogger called them, is being intensified by angry youths. True, no one who sees the height of senselessness displayed by those fellows in the gory video circulating in the Internet will ever be the same again. It's horrible and terrible. The students, suspected to be cultists, after beating their victim to submission pounced on her in a cruel fashion to have carnal knowledge of her, mocking while she helplessly pleaded to be killed instead of being left to societal ridicule. And her only offence was that she allegedly disrespected one of them.

Many rape incidents may have gone unnoticed because the victims in trying to avoid stigmatisation decided to lick their wounds in silence; but this case appears an exception. Reason? The fellows in this case were very daring. They chose to report themselves and dared the Nigerian government to come after them if it can. They recorded the video and circulated it among their friends (after they blurred their own images), who in a bid to spite the girl further circulated it on the campus until it was uploaded on Youtube, an on-line social media site, from where the world now watch it with disdain. The foreign media have also reported the story. While the situation is certainly appalling, there are very important issues that need to be highlighted.

When the rape was freshly reported, the Abia State Government, in a desperate attempt to exonerate itself from the mess and without conducting adequate investigation, released a press statement that purportedly absolved the Abia State University from the unfortunate incident. The Vice-Chancellor of the university also maintained that none of the participants in the rape was his student. Unfortunately, the President of the students body of the school who was supposed to embody not only leadership but thoroughness and diligence joined his VC to spin the same web of cover-up despite the clues in the video. A student of the university was said to have admitted to a popular blogger (name withheld) that such incidents are not new on the campus and that the boys were actually students of the university. So what is more?

The conundrum was complicated by the pussy-footing and unenthusiastic approach of security agents. The dilemma of the security forces is probably understandable but not excusable. They said they cannot rely on internet gossips and insisted on having the victim report to them. The Commissioner of Police, Abia State, Mr Bala Hassan, was quoted as saying, "We don't investigate rape cases based on what people put on Twitter. When a crime is committed, the DPO must send detectives to investigate the scene of the crime. Up till now, have you seen the victim? Have you seen the scene of the crime? Have you seen the suspects? It is a very dangerous rumour that must be dismissed by all good meaning Abians and Nigerians''. Methinks that the absence of the victim notwithstanding, access to some clues and leads from the video should have been enough to make them swing into action, find the victim whose faces were not blurred, establish the place of the incident and the true identity of those masked faces in the video thereby forestalling the long chain of confusion, distortion and the embarrassment that followed.

Fortunately, the work that was supposed to be done by the Abia State University, the state government and security forces has been done by militant Nigerian youths and volunteers on cyberspace. In a rare show of passion, a blogger placed N200,000 on the heads of these sons of Belial. Another offered to use a software to process the blurred images of the perpetrators. Many vented their spleen on their blog pages in strong comments and curses. Some ladies literally soaked their blogs with tears. In the end, the efforts yielded fruits as the perpetrators have been reportedly identified as students of the institution with their names and pictures released to the public. From the video and the research of some courageous Nigerian youths, the students were identified as Ifeanyi Justin Ogu, Jonah Uche (final year/extra year Accountancy), Zaki and Chisom. The Abia State Governor is now talking tough. The Police have also been jolted by a sudden realisation of their despicable dereliction.

However, one's concern is not just the apprehension of these dare-devils as in the safety and security of the victim if she's still alive. Threats and abduction are likely tools they may use against her. Moreover, the thought of suicide cannot be ruled out. Her face was clear in the video. And over one million people are said to have downloaded and watched the video on Youtube, aside those who have it on their phones through Bluetooth. This lady should be sought out and properly rehabilitated. She's a Nigerian citizen entitled to the fundamental human rights contained in our constitution. I suggest she be flown out of the country. A Nigerian environment may not be conducive for her rehabilitation going by the extent of damage done already.

For those perpetrators, they should be punished for this nefarious act against humanity. They have murdered sleep and don't deserve to rest in peace, dead or alive. The Nigerian Criminal Code Chapter 30 Section 358 stipulates 'life imprisonment with or without caning' as punishment for rape, which should not be relaxed for them, no matter their background. But I fear these evil ones may now be at large for fear of being caught. The current tempestuous wave of anger must have sent jitters down their spines. But they have no hiding place under the sun. The Nigerian security forces have a great work to do to salvage their reputation and prove to the world that they are up to the task to get these bad eggs that have no scintilla of sympathy or dignity. This case should not be treated with kid's gloves.

The police have the Nigerian youths to thank so far. I however wish to admonish our youths not to, as the Bible says, ''Let not your good be evil spoken of''. The rabid quest of many bloggers and Facebook users for the immoral video is most unfortunate. The more the video is circulated, the more the victim's sorrow is aggravated and the more we help these wicked people achieve their satanic purpose of spreading infamy and obscenity. Instead, the pictures and names of these men should be circulated. Besides, if the youth could show this commendable level of solidarity for one of them who was brutally violated, then we can translate the same energy and zeal for the rebuilding of our beloved country, Nigeria. Youths are the future...and that future is here!

Folarin is a National Youth Service Corps member in Ebonyi State. He can be reached on childofdkingdom@gmail.com or 08030572852

Tales from my jungle 3: The mad corper

                                                    NB: this is a special release for Batch C corps members. 

It was blazingly hot outside the hostel.The intensity of this sun can boil any tepid water to 100 degree cent. Any headache that results from its malignant attack may even become incurable. But this inclement weather did not stop the soldiers from blowing the trumpet for the afternoon parade. After all, we had pledged to serve 'under the sun and in the rain'. They envied us for our degrees and were determined to make life difficult for us at least for the three weeks we'll be under their cruel training. Around the camp, you can see some people swirling and swarming like bees.You might mistaken them for white fowls or prisoners in a concentration camp. They were actually corp members in incubation hence their detestable white-white uniform. 

On this day, I was on my bed. I had fallen sick because my body reacted to the regimented excercises we had gone through. So I stayed behind while others scampered out to escape the wrath of the soldiers. As expected, the soldiers stormed our hostel barking, screaming and threatening brimstone and fire on whoever remained in the hostel. I maintained my calm, still as a mummy. One of them sighted me and ran in my direction like an hungry cobra that just spotted a delectable prey.I was undetered. Surprised his braggadocio did not move me, he became more furious and ordered with his barrack voice that I go out. 'I'm sick' I painfully muttered.He demanded my permit from the clinic section of the camp. I fumbled through my bag searching for the paper. I found it and slipped it into his hand. He scanned the content, stared at me, his eyeballs flaring with rage. 'You think say I no go school, watin you dey give me?', he querried, livid. He called the attention of his colleages and told them I wanted to deceive him with a sheet of paper. I was speechless. 

A few metres away from my bed, another drama was unfolding. Another corps member who had stayed behind was being interrogated by a soldier.The soldier wanted to know why he stayed behind when others had left.The boy kept quiet.He threatened to take him to the guardroom if he didn't talk. Silence.The soldier became apprehensive of the boy's absorbed silence.He shouted at him to come down from the bed.More silence.'You dey mad?', he said with confusion and frustration in his husky voice.The boy gave him a long look and hesitantly whispered:'I have mental problem'.The young soldier recoiled and quietly stalked away from his bed. 

I almost doubled up with laughter where I was.My soldier interlocutor was still very angry.His grouse with me was that I gave him a paper containing drug prescription and not permit.Since that was all I had to show I was sick,I could not say a word.My plea for consideration fell on deaf ears as he insisted I leave the hostel.'You no be the only one way dey sick,go out', he bellowed.And since I could not masterly feign mental problem like my hostel friend, I had to leave. 

PS: This is to welcome all Batch C corps members across the federation into the three weeks NYSC orientation programme. What you just read is a glimpse into what to expect the weeks ahead-intrigues, tricks and threats. The soldiers, mopols, man 'o war will be your friends this time around, not the police. They will shout at you, threaten you but will not lift a finger against you. That's the rule. To do otherwise is a taboo. A breach of that sacrosanct rule almost disrupted my July camp. 

You will eat for free, so you really don't need to be heavily stuffed with cash. But beware o. If you are in Ebonyi for instance, be careful of the meat. You may have eaten 'Jacky' without knowing it. Jacky means donkey meat. My Batch A corps member ate a lot of it without knowing. By the time they knew, it was too late. Some of them almost purged out their intestines on discovery. 

Yes, attend the seminars. They are educative but delusive, especially the motivational talks. Participate in all the activities and competition-football, volleyball, parade,drama,cultural dance, early morning jogging. It's really fun. You'll learn a couple of martial songs and chants. My favourtite is: 'This is the way I wanted to be o(2ce), eh I want to be a corper, eh I want to be a rugged...' And prepare against the fire alarm night. It's the night of distress (**mouth sealed) 

You must also wake up early. 4:00am will be a good time. Prepare your mind for the morning devotion and meditation. I took one of the morning talks when I was in camp, you can do it too. 

Lest I forget, remember to go with all the things you'll need if you don't want to be a victim of exploitation. The traders in the 'mammy market' are envious of your fat allowee and won't mind sharing it with you. Go with a pouche(a waist bag to keep your money), a food flask and spoon. I regretted not having all these as I fell headlong into the hands of the 'mammy traders.' 

Have fun. Make friends. Like me,document your experience.

Tales from the jungle 2: Travelling in a coffin

WARNING: Please don't laugh at the writer, he's not happy he wrote this. It is the Nigerian condition he has to put up with, at least for now...and don't pity him. You may be tempted to laugh, muffle it. Find a middle course...and yes, try to comment after reading. Welcome to the jungle where life is nasty, brutish but long. 

The road to the Abakaliki motor park could be very dusty. Cab drivers anxious to leave the park with their human cargos manoeuvre through the crooked track and cause more problems for the road as they lock horns with other impatient road users. Then guess what follows? Swear words.Tantrums.Blame trading.As a visitor,it could sound more like a babel.A confusion of tongues, sort of because you can't decipher a word. But such rowdy scenes are not peculiar to Ebonyi. Only that the state has its own particularities. I have never seen such height of greed in my life. I'm serious. Please continue. 

The motor park is located at the centre of the Abakaliki main market. On this particular day, the sun had over-played and caught napping, was hastening to its home where it could conveniently cover its shame in the shielding horizon.Darkness was fast closin in.But I was determined to get back to Ojiegbe,the place of my primary assignment which is a few kilometres away from Abakaliki the capital of the salt state. I had been ill and had gone to see a doctor who had given me some smelly drugs.I took some and threw some away.They were just too disgusting to me (don't feel disappointed o, I don't like taking drugs.In fact, I hate it wit passion.I am well now...but my docky must not know this,so help keep it as our little secret.Promise?) 

As I ascended the steep hill that leads to the park,two men advanced in my direction and scuttled for my bag.Robbery in broad day light? I was startled, shocked, afraid.... Their approach was uncultured, sorry,uncommon is a better word.They were actually the 'garage boys' who led me to the right cab to convene me to my destination. It was here I saw greed with human face. Please read on. 

Ideally, a cab is supposed to carry four passengers, plus the driver making five. Isn't it? Please don't tell any Ebonyi cab driver that theory o, or he would stone you to death. Let me be a little graphical. 

Here in Ebonyi, a cab could take as much as eight mature, fully grown adults! You are asking how? Fix the puzzle- three sit in the front with all their luggage, four squeeze themselves at the back like hurriedly packed sandine and another adult finds existence in the boot. I mean in the boot! The same boot is heavily stuffed with industrial consummables like cartons of drinks, biscuits, sacks of cassava, heavy duty bags of potatoes, oranges, among others. Him be animal? Probably. That's not all.The top of the cab has some ghana-must-go bags strapped to it with some thick ropes. In the end, you have some shoving, struggling and sweating souls crammed into a tiny space and bound together by fate and hate.They must endure this hardship for about an hour.And for your passage through this human coffin,you must part with N300.Here, you pay to die and you have no option. 

You can trust me that I won't keep quiet in that horrible, inhuman condition. I shot at the driver: 'How can you people be so carlous endangering people's lives with your greed? This is shameful!' 'It's not our fault o, blame the road, we have terrible roads, and the police' he retorted. Then he burst into a hulabaloo of Ibo. I kept quiet. We had three intermittent stops on that road. Why? Police settlements. They unabashedly demanded their share as they hailed the poor man. I was dumb. I've always thought Lagos is the only corrupt place where police officers are shameless. These ones appear worse. Maybe the driver was right. The system is bad. He must endanger our lives to make hands meet. 

I must survive, I shall not die but live...though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death of Ebonyi... the Lord is my shephered. As I made this frantic prayer, I took a quick look at the back seat, and all I saw was that despite the inconvience and my jeremiad, the village women still managed to sleep and snore in the cab. They are inure to the pains already. Oh can you imagine, somebody was even drawing saliva...Oh my God! 

Nigerians, what's the way forward?

Tales from the jungle 1: Lesson in shot-put

Tales from my jungle 1: A lesson in 'shot-up'. 


WARNING: Pls don't read if you don't want to laugh. 


Change of environment can truly mean change of lifestyle. For instance, in my villa(ge) we go into the bush to answer the call of nature. You understand what I mean, don't pretend. Ok, let's assume you don't. No arguments. Continue. There are three delapidated mud blocks designed for that purpose. We call them Elechi (named after our old governor).


 The process is simple. When going for this mission, you need to arm yourself with sufficient papers while you sing 'Guide me O, thou great Jehovah Pilgrim...' If you are a teacher, you are lucky because you can always organise fake assignments and tests for your students to gather enough papers (Don't laugh o, it's a way of life here. In fact, how are you sure city teachers dont do the same. Do they return your test scripts? I wonder o)


 Yes, as I was saying, then you empty your bowel on a spreadsheet of paper, large enough to contain your downloads, as you stoop low, really low to conquer. When you are done, you turn around and appreciate the size, strength and smell of your by-product while you also helplessly watch some hungry flies buzz around like state inspectors sent to investigate the quality of your nutrition (They are choosy o, they wont eat bad shit). 


Then you fold it up and gently toss it over the window as you sing 'I am delivered, praise the Lord...' To clean up yourself, you tear another sheets of paper and rub several of it on the 'affected area' till you are sure you can safely go back to human land without constituting a pollution nuisance.


 The best time to do this business is in the evening when its dark. You don't have to enter 'Elechi'. You can simply crouch and couch in the open bush and 'do it' there. The cool breeze that mingles with fresh flowery breathe at this somnolent time of the day can lull you into forgeting your miseries. It eases your mind. It penetrates and infilterates your compartments and departments. Under its overwhelming influence you may sing, 'When peace like a river attendent my way...It is well, it is well with my soul' But it can also be very dangerous. Sometimes, while secreting those hateful matters, you could be hunted by the fear of a gliding reptile. Your instinct stands on end to warn that you might be dead before anyone knows anything. The eerie and cricket noise heighten your fear of the unknown. And as if to lend credence to your creepy thought, you begin to feel certain movements behind you. I'm sure you don't need anybody to tell you to stand up and run, do you?

I HAVE A DREAM

I HAVE A DREAM
By Folarin Samson

As a kid, I was encouraged to dream often. I was told that my dreams mirror my future. I didn’t understand what that meant at first, so I unconsciously begun an adventure into the surreal world of fantasies. Sometimes, while lost in dreamland, I would suddenly discover I was floating on a river, enjoying myself. By the time I flicked an eyelid, alas it was my pinning mattress that had become a waterbed! I would wake up with a start, overwhelmed with shame as the toxic water dripped from my short knickers onto my bed. Out of desperation to cover my shame in the blind night, I would quietly sneak out of bed guided by my intuition, tiptoed carefully away from the pool while groping for a rag to mop the mess. Then I would use our noisy old fan as dryer. I turned it directly to the spot and prayed hard that the night lasted longer so it could dry up. Then in the morning, nobody would know anything because I had also changed into another shorts. Childhood trick. But my father caught me one day and I got the beating of my life! That was before; I am now ‘born-again’. I never shared any of those dreams because they usually disappeared no sooner than they came. Flimsy and fleeting!

But now, I know that the teeny-weeny dream of the night is not the same as the dream of greatness, hope, ideas; though it could be an interface for divine communication. I was drawn to history and followed the great French General, Napoleon Bonaparte as he subdued Europe. I was particularly fascinated and attracted to the cleric-activist, Martin Luther King the Junior, as he reeled out his lofty dreams of a new America to a bemused crowd of persecuted black Americans. I was confounded at the remarkable change that resulted from Mahatma Ghandi’s novel vision of a new India, free from imperialism and colonial bondage. Through the magic spell of books, I travelled back in time and stood behind the legendary Nelson Mandela on the 10th May 1994, as he delivered his ‘No Easy Road to Freedom’ Independence speech. Then it occurred to me that history has no record of any remarkable greatness without some dreams shared and dared in the dark alleys of despondency and near defeat.

As a citizen of Nigeria at this critical time of our national existence, I have a dream that Nigeria will be great again. That all tribes will sit together to dine at the warm table of brotherhood without suspicion or reservation. For years we have exaggerated our differences and magnified our weaknesses. We have ignorantly engaged our fellow brothers in mindless arguments, debates and bloody clashes in a bid to prove a point. But I see with the clarity of an unmistakable seer that the day is coming when the centripetal forces that shred us will melt away with the fervent heat of love and tearful affection. And those who fish in our troubled water will abandon their empty hooks and nets, mouth agape as they watch with dazed vision, the happy reunion of a divided country.

I have a dream that one day, we will have true leaders who will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, negotiate at the table of service or surrender at the feet of failure and frustration. Men of impeccable profile, priceless character, astute, dignified and qualified! People that are passionate about Nigeria and have the wisdom to harness our immense human and material resources for equitable prosperity. They are in Nigeria and I assure you that many more will still be born despite the festering disease of corruption.

I have a dream, that one day Nigerians will no longer live as servants while foreigners drive big cars, own houses in choice towns, live as lord at the detriment of my country people who find shelter from the cold of the night under the chilly irons of the bridges. And despite the fact that this old child of fifty is still wobbling and fumbling in the murky water of scarcity and poverty that makes her subservient to strange interests, I still see many bright days ahead.

I have a dream that the Nigerian economy will rise with the strength of a unicorn to rival all of Europe, America and Asia. The Asian Tigers will bow before the Global Lion of Nigeria. Many countries of the world will come on their knees seeking favour and succour for their crumbling economies and Nigeria will be the only solution to their problems. All our sons and daughters on self exile will return home and our brain drains will become our recovered gain.

I have a dream that the Nigerian child will be free from abuse and she will get qualitative education irrespective of age, ethnicity, religion or background. I have a dream that one day, Nigerians will be happy because they have learnt to speak with one voice, act with one goal, live with one purpose.

I have a dream that l will be proud to show my green-white-green passport without fear because although America has got a momentous memoir in their Statute of Liberty, I pride myself in the Statute of Dignity of Unity. Nationals of other countries will queue up for Nigeria’s citizenship!

And though we have adapted to the anomaly of epileptic power supply, I still have a dream that we will celebrate a decade of uninterrupted electricity. Little school children will no longer have to chorus our shame in the shout of ‘up-NEPA’ as if electricity is a privilege.

I have a dream that corruption will be a taboo in public service and Nigeria will be sanitized not with the forceful hand of the law but with impulsive self-censorship. This nation is not irredeemable. Let all those who have become prophets of dooms go and wait when this pitch darkness will give birth to a glorious beautiful morning. Let all those who have given up on this country because of our wasted years and opportunities sit as spectators as this great drama of resurrection from the ruins of corruption and pervasion to the magnificent edifice of honesty and integrity plays out in the open market square. I say to all weary well-meaning Nigerians that it’s always darkest before the dawn. Our dawn is imminent. The dance will soon begin. We must not give up so soon on our fatherland to flee and take up foreign residence in defiance to the doctrine of natural placement. There’s a reason you’re not born white. As individuals, we only need to embody the change we desire in our fatherland. We must build together.

Let this message ring from the boisterous commercial city of Lagos to the palatial villas of Abuja. Let those who dwell on the plateau echo the tide to the people around the suburban delta. Let the inhabitants of the metamorphic mountains and fountains of Ibo Land pass it on to those in the lush and juicy towns of Hausa land. And let the Oduduwa children polish and garnish it with their cultural bequeathals until it glitters. That if there is hope of an ordinary tree that has been cut down that it will sprout again, then we are far from being hopeless. Non sunt desperadi, we are not hopeless! If it has taken America over two centuries to build their country to what it is today and it is enshrined in their constitution that all men are born equal, then we are in no way inferior to them or any other nation on earth. Our problem is certainly that of the mind not of the mine.

And I have a dream that one day I will be in a position to make my dreams come true or at old age watch as others make them materialize or…..look down from the great beyond, contented and fulfilled that my dreams came true in the manifestation of some kids.

By Folarin Samson
A serving corps member in Ebonyi State
08030572852/ childofdkingdom@yahoo.com

Persevearance

Perseverance

Perseverance is an important factor to being successful in life. It is the ability to continue in the earnest pursuit of a noble venture in spite of difficulties and opposition. It is tenacity of purpose evident and expressed in unbeatable determination, unflinching consecration and unrepentant pertinacity in striving for excellence.

In fact, the history of great men and women the world over is an express expression of the exploits of perseverance. Abraham Lincoln wanted to be a president. He started off running round a vicious circle of failure. He became a published and accomplished failure. Abbey could not even succeed in his contention for inferior positions. After about thirteen successive failures, he had a single consolatory-guess what it was? He became the 16th president of the USA. It was because he understood that quitters don't win and winners don't quit.

Thomas Edison, the great inventor of the electric bulb was said to have failed for a thousand times. When asked what kept him going despite his phenomenal failures, he simply laughed and said: 'I did not fail for 1,000 times, it was only that each attempt brought me closer to my final result because I learnt never to make the mistake again'

Gentlemen corps members, we cannot achieve anything worthwhile in life without this great virtue called perseverance. Our aspirations, passions and visions are bound to pass through the crucible of affliction and persecutions. But our conviction in the success of this vision will make us persevere till it comes to fruition. However, in the course of persevering, necessary sacrifices will be made. We may lose friends, relationships, comfort and may even pay the ultimate price of our lives. Somebody rightly remarked that it is better to die for something than live for nothing. If we don’t give up, we won’t go up.

For us, the pursuit of a better Nigeria devoid of ethnic consideration, religious collision and myopic concessions is worth pursuing. The test begins from here in Ebonyi State. I therefore urge all of us to embrace perseverance. Never say never! Don't give up! Insist, persist, resist, don't desist until Nigeria consist all we list. Don't meander in the maze of mediocrity or pander in the pool of popularity and comfortability. When the going gets rough, be tough; when the road gets dusty and frosty, become lusty. And when it becomes crystal clear, totally obvious and discernable even to the greatest of optimist that you have no chance of survival since your arrival in this arena, refire, dont retire. Someone said: 'Perspire to acquire your desire which you admire and never retire but refire. But if it backfires, rewire for God's fire'

Believe you can make a difference even if beset by temporary obstacles. Ebonyi is a virgin land, ripe for annexation, eager for cultivation but waiting for visionary and enterprising youths like us who will see beyond the thick and threatening forest of problems and impossibilities to explore its prospects and immense possibilities. And if scared by snake stories and unfounded fables, i urge you to align with your God. Because when a man and his God confront a mountain, impossibilities disappear, never to reappear. To therefore seek redeployment is to disembark from this historic train of glorious patriots.

I'll end with Winston Churchill, one of the greatest statesmen Britain has ever had. He had been called to deliver an address to a group of students who had eagerly anticipated the opportunity of listening to his famed eloquence. And then Mr. Churchill mounted the dais.
There was dead silence on the assembly. Everyone held their breath; afraid to interrupt the sacred hallow hanging in the air. And he looked at them with a sharp gaze and shot: 'Never, never, never give up!' and that was all and he took his seat. Hasn't the point been made already? Like Churchill, I charge you fellow comrades, in spite of our challenges, weaknesses and failures as individuals and as a nation under the siege of intractable tribal conflicts, political instability, electoral violence, militancy, Boko Haram, kidnapping and killing of our colleagues, Never, never, never give up! It's always darkest before the dawn.

Finally remember; please don't forget, that even in this NYSC phase of our existence, only perseverance determines our clearance, severance or continuance.

Thank you

Delivered by Folarin Samson
Of Platoon 5, Macgregor Camp, Ebonyi State
Today, 15th July,2011.