Could fate had destined their meeting and singled out both of them in a sea? It was during their registration at the Obafemi Awolowo University. It had been God for everyone,and everyone fighting to get his papers examined. Omolewa had been at the front of the queue, cock sure she was going to have it done. There was nothing hustle-free in Nigeria, she had been thinking. From obtaining her JAMB registration form at the bank to sitting for her POST-UTME exams, it hadn't been an experience that was worthy of the realm of nostalgia. Her brow was beaded in sweat,and she was hot inside. A cold bath couldn't have been more appealing;peeling off her clothes and diving into a bathtub of water,sublime. The heat was clinging to her skin like filth,and her throat was like a panting desert. Omolewa knew she was strong,for a girl,unable to bear the hardship of it all,had fainted away.
Her eyes were glued to the door- the door that wouldn't open. The door that tested her perseverance and mocked her patience. The registration officers had commanded that it be shut against the students. They didn't want any student in the registration hall,except he was summoned. So far only the first fifty had been admitted into the building and until the lucky batch was done,nobody else was permitted to enter. Omolewa had prayed to that door,in that usual manner of desperation when one would resort to do the most ridiculous. Now she felt that door was no longer worthy of her attention. Some of the students had left the queue to take a walk; to eat. That was the last thing on her mind. She couldn't afford to abandon her vantage position for there was no guarantee that she would have it back once she returned. It was in her best interest to wait it out.
Like an answer to her prayer,the door eventually opened and a thick-set security officer marched out. In that split moment,he had arrested everyone's attention. He looked quite important;knowing his next utterance wouldn't float idly in the air, and having these children at his mercy. He was clean shaven,and his uniform was well starched and ironed. He was flaunting an impressive crease on his trousers. There was something special about the university staff with the way they cared about their appearance, Omolewa thought.
"Let the first fifty step forward," he called,hoarsely.
A murmur broke among the crowd;as to those the order was issued,complied.
"What about us?" Someone from the crowd shouted,irritably. The security officer turned a questioning eye at the student.
"We have been waiting here for ages!"
"And how does that affect the price of garri in the market?" Returned the security officer.
"How can you be so callous?" Shouted the student,warming up. "We are human beings, not fish to be smoked in the sun."
The other students murmured in approval, at the challenging audacity of this boy.
The security officer lost his temper.
"Who are you to raise your voice at me? Am I Your mate,or is that how you talk to your father at home? It is idiotic rascals like you who come here to cause trouble and get... ."
"Radicals,you mean," the student cut in,obviously enjoying the whole show.
"Look,I am not going to waste my time with you," Declared the security officer. "Where are my first fifty?"
"No one is going through that door!"
A commotion ensued as the select fifty made their way. Everyone charged for the door. Omolewa was caught in the frenzy. There was a spirit which guided the way of a mob,which she dreaded. That spirit was going to tear down that door,pushing her; against her will,towards it. The security man, with an agility unsurprising for a man of his physique, glided into the sanctuary of the registration hall and shut the door. The surge of the crowd crashed against the door,the result of which made students fall. Omolewa was one of them. She was trampled upon by hasty merciless feet,flat heels and stilettos.
The burden of feet resisted her attempt to rise. She cried in agony. Mercifully, someone caught hold of her blouse and dragged her to her feet. This samaritan carefully shepherded her out of the crowd. She was breathing sharply,her face was lacerated and the blood ran freely. She was too daze to appreciate the presence of her helper. The latter took out a handkerchief and wiped her cut,then she got a sachet of water to wash her dust-smeared face. Not a word was spoken between them as Omolewa didn't reply any of the questions put to her. It seemed her shock had stiffened her tongue. So there prevailed a silence as the good samaritan continued her work in silence,undeterred. The crowd at the door was chanting protest songs. Omolewa hated them. She hated the registration officers with a greater vehemence. Her new smart phone had vanished into thin air. She tried not to let the tears betray her emotion. She wanted to scream and bang her head against the wall as she was wont to do when she was a kid. In her present mood,she didn't know when her helper took her leave.





2

Omolewa soon forgot about the incident at the registration hall. Classes were to be attended,books and materials were to be bought and studied. New people were to be met,and friends made. The face of her helper soon became etched in distant memory. She didn't wish to stay in the hall of residence the school provided so she phoned home,asking for money to acquire accommodation in a private hall of residence. She had been told that private halls of residence were well maintained than the school ones. Besides it ascribed to her a big girl status. She was glad when she found out that she was to have only one room mate.
Omolewa moved in,after completing her registration. Her room mate hadn't moved in then. She prayed the room mate would never come. She would have the whole room to herself in blessed privacy. Alas,it wasn't so. She returned from class one day to find a girl by her door, sitting on a huge suitcase. The latter lifted up her eyes to stare at her,and Omolewa exhaled sharply. It was the good samaritan.
"How are you?"
"Fine... Thanks for the other day. I am sorry about the way I behaved. It was due to shock."
It came in a rush.
The lady simply nodded.
"Let me help you move your things in."
The days they spent as room mates unravelled so many things about them. Damope, for that was the samaritan's name,was a worthy companion. They were quite inseparable. They shared their deepest secrets and fears,dreams and aspirations. Omolewa even knew Damope's ATM password. It was quite easy for guys to conclude that they were lesbians.... no one would blame them.
It was at the end of the first quarter of the semester that news soon reached the campus that a gang of boys with wild libidos had overran a private hall of residence,and that the school had sent the victims home. Omolewa was scared.
"Would they come here?" She asked Damope.
"'you want them to come here?" The latter returned. "That's a stupid question.
Omolewa was silenced but nevertheless afraid.
"No harm will come to us," Damope reassured her. "I can promise you that."
It wasn't in her power to keep that promise for their hall of residence was paid a visit,too. The sporadic clatter of gunshots had awakened Omolewa. She started up from her bed to see her friend staring at her with wild saucer-like eyes. They knew what was in the offing. Omolewa heard distant cries,crashing doors,and mechanical laughter. A cold chill crept down her spine. Soon a machete slashed at their door,and chips of wood flew at her. Damope dived under the bed and she followed suit. Damope breathed a word of prayer to God for deliverance. Omolewa was weeping as she uttered amen. Each machete-blow that was dealt to the door brought nearer her fate. The door soon yielded.
The visitors marched in,reeking of alcohol and marijuana smoke. The petrified girls saw their feet pacing up and down the room.
"There is no hiding place for you,bitches. Come out now!"
The movement around the room went on;the wardrobes were hacked open,till one of the boys looked under the bed.
Their discovery summarised the next fraction of seconds in plain terror. Both were dragged from their hiding place and made prisoners in a corner of the room.
"So you think you can outsmart us," said one of them,"today I will tear your pussy."
His voice was like a whiplash. It carried much venom. He appeared their leader. The boys began to take off Damope's night gown. When she tried to resist,they set on her face with blinding blows. Having subdued her, the leader fell on her laps. Omolewa broke down and cried. The boys taunted her:
"Bitch can't you be patient? HIS ROD COMETH IN A MOMENT TO COMFORT THEE .''
His appetite thus sated,the underlings had their turn. Damope was in a vanquished state.
The rapists seized Omolewa.
She bit and clawed at their hands. The leader slapped her,hard. She spat in his face. He hit her so that she crumpled up on the floor. He straddled her and started to shed off her clothes. At that moment, she felt she was the world's worst sufferer. She never imagined her chastity was going to be taken in such a violent and undesired way. It was going to be stolen. She had created her wedding night in her fantasy; how her Prince Charming will make his entry into the sanctuary of her groove,in a bedroom glowing with candlelight. In a night radiant with fiery passion,a night pleasing to her maker. She had voiced it out to Damope.
"I envy you...," the latter had said. "I wish I had waited till my wedding night."
Quite all of a sudden,the room was steeped in darkness. Someone had upset the candle,illuminating the room. The leader cursed. When a glimmer of light was seen again,it was in the flames leaping up the curtain on the window.
"Fire... Fire!...The bitch has done this."
The boys,quite distracted,fled the room. The leader stopped by the door and fired in the direction of the curtain. Damope let out a piercing scream. Omolewa wormed her way in that direction and gathered Damope up in her hands. The latter was fighting for life,gasping for breath. Omolewa began to cry,afresh for her friend .... .
Pls visit Renaissance Nigeria www.napoleonblog415. for emotive,great and well written stories about history,culture and literature

I take God beg una... Kindly rate this story for me... Na true life matter