Synopsis: They live amongst us. some had the voice while the larger percentage are voiceless. I decided to speak for them. I have no regrets. Farewell, this sphere of vanity.
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Why not me?
At intervals, drops of the salty liquid that got lucky enough to escape the adhesion offered by the barren cheek of mine kissed the surface of the earth. Hoping to see the one text message I've longed for as soon as I get hold of the phone I left at home when I went out for the not-too-fulfilling game of round leather (You might prefer the world soccer or football). Taking few seconds to greet the jobless adults under the Odan tree playing the game of 'Ayo', I moved closer to my father's house which was about five kilometres from the stony piece of land that served as our football field. I had barely passed them by when I started to reflect on why I should accord them such respect. One thing I can never forget about Mr. James (My further mathematics teacher), even though his subject sucks was his popular saying; 'show me a man that knows what I don't know and I will show you a man I respect'. I don't see any reason I should accord them such regard beyond our social-cultural norms and values that forbade the young from disrespecting the old. At least, passing by without greeting means disrespect. They are jobless and at the moment, I am. So, I presume we are equals. The only excuse they give whoever cares to listen is the bad economic situation of the country they blame on the government and at this level, the local government chairman that never kept any of his campaign promises. Well, my greatest concern at that moment was not their idleness, it's all about gaining admission into the prestigious University of Lagos.
I left Igbobi grammar school at the early age of seventeen. Yes..... I mean early, because I was one of the youngest in the class by the time I wrote SSCE. In the outside world, I left late but as the good African saying has it; ' A one eyed individual is the best in the land of the blind'. Local champion? Maybe. Kola, the toughest of my clique has a very strict dad that works in Lagos and only comes home at the end of the week. I've heard a whole lot from him about how money adorned the streets of Lagos, how easy it is for you to get hooked up with any lady of your choice as long as you have money. The splendour of Lagos I had imagined is less a driving force to see the big city than the urge to have my first date and probably get laid as soon as possible. Even though, stories about Kola and Segun's exploits in the classrooms of the community's primary school were enough to bring out the dog in me, but the egoistic me had no patience for the hard to get stunts of the female folks in my area. I'm a naturally proud, arrrogant snd stubborn individual and I've always conceived the notion that a lady that says no on first attempt is not meant for me. I got turned down several times and each time we discussed girls in the neighbourhood, I keep mute. There was a day Segun really got under my skin after giving them 'The fear of God' as the reason I don't have a girlfriend yet. 'Don't worry, your pastor will be kind enough to give you the manual on your wedding day', he teased. I was so angry that I had a scuffle with them. The victim of the transferred aggression was Joke that slapped me on that fateful day after a boring line of toasting. I

To be continued.......

would have murdered her that day had people not come to her rescue.If you are badly in need of an example of peer pressure, my life at that time was a perfect case study.
On the contrary, guys flock around Janet like flies around an open pit latrine. There was hardly a day she doesn't have a new toaster. Some even send gifts to her through me. Well, I take care of the edibles while I persuade her to keep the ladies' things. I laughed and screamed on top of my voice the day she informed me about the judgement she passed on the guy that consciously touched her butt. 'I gave her a dirty slap he will ever live to remember.' She said with pride and gaiety. To her, the slap gave her back her dignity. To be honest, Janet is the real problem. She is too beautiful to ignore. She is a light-skinned girl of average height and the hill-like projection in the front seem to add to their emotional torture, even though, to me, it's nothing more than a part of her body at the right place. When she smiles, you need to be a hundred and one percent focused if you are using a sharp object. I was the proud brother of the community belle. Mr. Benson, her suitor was very lucky to have won the heart of my sister.
There is definitely no smoke without fire. I could only attribute my sister's moral uprightness to the proper upbringing by our mother. Mum, a petty trader brought us up with the fear of God and had always begged us to help justify his vow never to marry again after the demise of our father many years ago. In all honesty, I never felt the absence of our dad once. On the contrary, I thank the good Lord that Dad is late each time Kola gets his fair share of corporal punishment and our neighbour beats up his wife. Although, mum said he was a nice person, I still maintain my Thomas stance. Uncle Kola had been very supportive both morally and financially. It's a well known fact that having a university education, for me is an illusion, given my mum's financial status. But my tested and trusted uncle had promised to come for me the next time he visits. He had a very lucrative business in Lagos and I was confident financing my tertiary education is secured. He promised to alert me through my rickety cell phone, a day before his arrival. If only I new I was going elsewhere!
I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that figure about five metres ahead.' No! that couldn't be my sister', I thought as I moved closer to her. Unusually scattered hair, gown torn though the cleavage, swollen eyes with both hands on her head were too much information to alert any passers by that all is not well. I opened my mouth transfixed to the same spot after moving close to about a metre from her. 'What happened?', I asked. I had barely said that when I saw a confirmation. Sometimes when evil struck, we prefer taking solace in the lies we tell ourself. I wish my mind was only playing pranks on me. I wish I was only seeing things. I wish my sister was not truly molested. 'Who did this to you?', I asked with a voice that could have been my loudest, but ended becoming one of the lowest pitched. 'K-o-r-e-d-e', she said amidst tears.

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Without saying any other word, I went straight to my Mum's room and in no time, a sharp matchet materialised. I was determined to kill the miscreant, damning the consequence. I'm very sure I met people on my way to the chairman's house but I never heard any of their questions. Getting to the chairman's house, I acted calm, concealing the cutlass behind me, for the gate keeper to throw the gate open. He had hardly opened the gate when I brushed him aside, aiming for the main building, he followed me at a safe distance as he called on the policemen in the compound who were caught unawares, unarmed. I knocked and kicked the gigantic iron door but it was not opened. At a point, I got frustrated and sat down, crying with my forehead on the hands that pressed the tip of the cutlass to the earth. At that point, the police came closer to disarm me and coincidentally, the chairman arrived at that instant. He promised that Korede will not go unpunished and I wish he kept his promise. If wishes were truly horses! The next thing I saw at that silent night in my household were emissaries sent to beg my mum and pay us off. I felt indignant and sent them away with the same weapon-the cutlass, although to mum's disapproval. We had hardly woke up the following day, from a forced sleep when some policemen came to arrest me for intrusion. I was surprised that the chairman could be so callous. I wish Uncle Kola had come home for an entirely different reason. He came all the way from Lagos the same day as Janet's suitor. They informed me I was released after they were made to sign a document that stipulates that they would not come up with any case against korede. I was angry, not with korede, neither was it with the chairman. I was angry with my class. So, people of my class can be cheated and our rights trampled upon with impunity, I asked myself. I promise never to forgive Korede.
Against all odds, Mr. Benson did not forsake my Sister. To make it obvious to us he is not bowing out of the relationship, he promised to come for the Marriage introduction by September. Mr. Benson and Janet went out one day only for her to return with a swollen eyeballs. I was about asking her what went wrong when she lamented; 'I'm doomed'. Before I could probe further, she burst out into tears and fainted. All efforts to call Mr. Benson proved abortive. My head spun continuously after she revealed what happened. My own sister, HIV positive. So, the test result confirmed. I kept quiet saying little or nothing to people around me as my sister cried all day. A witch that will kill a juvenile will never have blood stains around her mouth. On my mind, it was only through Korede she could have contacted it and I wasn't ready to consider any other source.
I laid an ambush for him and he walked into the trap. On sighting me, getting out of the bush that adorned both sides of the footpath, it was obvious he was startled but I presume his huge stature gave him that confidence that nothing beyond his control will happen. ' Being the cousin to the chairman does not make you untouchable. The man to do the touching had only not mustered enough courage.' I thought as I moved closer, keeping mute, pretending not ready to engage him even with words. The bottled up anger got liberated when I was directly beside him and he sarcastically said; 'how is that broken pot you call your sister doing?',

I looked back and I was lucky he didn't look back. From behind, I drove the dagger through the posterior part of his neck, removing the very sharp dagger and dipping it back into the broken blood pipeline on his neck. I made sure he gave up the ghost before leaving the spot. I was kind enough to close his wide opened eyes with my left hand. I dropped the dagga at that scene and I was glad I spoke for every other families the community rascal had dealt with, one way or the other. I also spoke for the family of Aduke that died after aborting a pregnancy - An act masterminded by Korede who owns the pregnancy.
I do not want any sympathy from anyone, I did what I wanted to do and I have no regrets. Mum, forgive me if you think we are not the kind of children you deserve. Janet, save your tears for another day. Barrister Kofo, please tell her I did it because I love her. Please, tell her I will always love her and she should use her Anti retroviral drugs correctly so that mum will not be alone. I don't think I want to be around her. I prefer anywhere I will be sent. What will I be doing around a sister that will forever remain single and unhappy all her life. Those happy memories that were replica of that of her last birthday with me and mum will never surface again. What a waste of beauty! What a curse in disguise! I woud have appreciated a ugly Janet the same way.
I prefer this enclosure with this scary- looking creatures at the moment. The Janet I know will never marry any man. And if mum had been right about hell fire, unlucky me! Constable Saka, thanks for the pen and paper. Barrister Kofo, my regards to my uncle. Thank him on my behalf for paying you. I don't care what the entire word think of me. I had to write this because I wanted to go to that grave, upholding my vow of 'not talking'. If by tomorrow, the Jugde says;' life in jail', cool. And if he says 'death by hanging', why not me?

Johnson Rowland
Igbobi Prison,
Saki, Oyo State.
25/06/2015 (Janet's birthday eve)

This is a tribute to every victims of rape. Believe this; God is always with you.

Wow, i gbadun ur style. Kudos bro, more auction to function on Nairaland. Lalasticlala, let d whole world read dis.

thanks bro. I hv been a silent writer for long. I felt this is a better platform to be heard
Cc: Lalasticlala

Folks, thanks for reading this, watch out for the next big thing. A Night With The Devil by Sidophilic. cheers!

meeen bro.i love the way you right.keep up the good work men.u will go places am very sure of dat

Thanks, sir boyo 123. Big ups bro