Ever since the night Mrs Hassan deflowered me, and took my innocence away, she has been coming back over and over again for it like as if it’s her human right.
Mrs Hassan would have sex with me at any given opportunity. In the morning before the morning devotion, in the afternoon as well, and mostly at night.
I started losing weight and my legs started hurting so bad due to Mrs Hassan’s heavy weight and pressure in which she exert while having sex with me.
It got to a point I got tired of it all as the assault became too much. Became unbearable.
I have to end it all. I said to myself one night. I was overwhelmed with ideas on how to get myself out of the mess which Mrs Hassan had got herself interlocked with me.
The first idea which came to my mind was to stab her to death before daybreak, and escape with my siblings afterwards. That would be before dawn.
I then remembered the Lord’s Commandments in the book of Exodus, one which state that “thou shalt not kill.”
The second idea which came to my mind was to file a serious allegation against Mrs Hassan.
But I thought to myself, who will believe me? This woman suffering from malady is blessed with money, tables might turn against me and I might be jailed for wrong accusation.
I may even have to pay for stress, for defamation of repute or calumny.
I yawned and tossed around my room idly. During this process, I conceived another idea which seemed to be the perfect one on my mind at that moment.
The plan was to take my brothers to a Motherless Baby Home while I move out of the house so as to start a new life elsewhere.
I made plans ahead and it seemed perfect to me. I picked a date which appeared convenient for me, a day I am very sure Mrs Hassan would not be around.
Some days after, I started executing my plans by packing my clothes, as much as my sibling’s gradually.
Unknown to me that Mrs Hassan had been monitoring my movements and was aware of the whole plan I had in mind.
At least, it eventually appeared that she knew the basics.. On the day I was supposed to leave Mrs Hassan’s house, the unexpected happened.
I was on my way out with my siblings, we were heading for the Motherless Baby Home.
It was around 9:45 am in the morning.
The giant black gate at the entrance of the mansion flung opened and a troop of armed policemen came into the residence with their pistols and AK47 guns pointed at my siblings and I.
“Hands up.” One of them barked the order.
I dropped all my bags instantly, my siblings did the same. I was surprised and frozen with shock when Mrs Hassan came in at that particular moment in company of another police officer.
“Yes, he is the criminal.” Mrs Hassan announced, she positioned her hands akimbo.
“I am not a criminal.” It was hard to raise my head, but I tried. They could tell, my voice was timid, let alone me.
I only made attempts to justify myself. I pointed at the direction of my baggage,
“Here are my loads.” I stooped down and started to remove my clothes from the Ghana-must-go-bag which contained them.
“It will be better if you keep your mouth shut Mr man, or anything you say will be used against you in the court of law!” Another policeman added.
I froze, honestly, scared at the uncertainty of their next action.
I have seen movies about Nigerian police brutality. I knew I would wear the same trouser with them – while they seek a truth that does not exist.
I was handcuffed and led into a black Toyota pick-up vehicle they brought.
I couldn’t stop them, but I begged that my siblings be kept save from this. They would not hearken after all. They are the men of the Police Force, Nigeria.
I was arraigned before the DPO that same day where I was questioned.
“Is it true that you stole some goods which belonged to Mrs Hassan Olasunkanmi in her apartment and intended to abscond with them? The DPO who seemed to be more reserved spoke to me.
He asked this question calmly. I answered in the negative. “No sir, I am not a thief.” I stammered. “I ha..ve ne..ver been one.”
“Hmmm, although you don’t look like someone who would do such… but those who do it don’t write it on their foreheads.”
He shook his head in disagreement. “You’ll have to remain here with us until we finish with our investigations” the DPO added.
The DPO’s words were short and simple… he spoke as if he will be arrested for the numbers of words he say.
“Lock this young man in Cell Fourteen alongside Kesari and those internet fraudsters we arrested earlier.”
“Alright Oga” Sergeant Adeyemi dragged me by my trousers. He took me to the counter where my shirt was removed and my mobile phone was taken away before being transferred to Cell Fourteen.