SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS
It started when I just finished my last exam of the session. The exam did not start as scheduled. It started two hours later than the fixed time. Due to the commotion around, people trying to get to sits that will favour them examically and the noise making due to idleness, someone picked my pocket, took all of my money. Emmm...the 'all my money' was the 100naira change I collected from the driver that brought me to school.
After the exam that did not go so well, I started going home. First I would board a bus to the park, where I would board another bus to my place of abode. At this time, I did not know my pocket had been picked. I confidently entered the bus. Thank God these drivers now collect money before they start the trip. When it was my turn to give him my own money. I searched and searched and searched, no money was available. It was then I discovered that my money could have been stolen. The way the driver looked at me told me at once that he would not accept stories. Also looking at the other passengers, they were looking mean needing no more delay. So I came down.
There is this ATM at the bus station. So I thought to myself that my ordeal had just ended. I went to the ATM. It was Thursday, there was a lot of people waiting on the line. I must say, the line went quickly and in no time, it was my turn. I put my card expecting to see the welcome statement. What I saw was 'OUT OF SERVICE'. A very calm queue turned into a riot scene as people began to murmur. One of them said to me, "Oga, wetin do you na". After 20minutes the service came back, I could not hide my joy, I exclaimed, "Yes!" I would almost have done the knee slide celebration footballers do, but due to time I did not.
After logging in my details, I put in the amount I wanted to withdraw. Not much sha, just 500naira for transport—at the time, my account balance was, #750.00. Then I was given another blow, the ATM read, 'Temporarily Unable to Dispense Cash'. I was left with a gaping mouth. The ATM was so gracious to hand me back my a card though. ''Oga bad luck, see what you have caused'', was what I heard from behind me. I started to believe them. "This is bad luck, 500naira, only 500naira", I thought to myself.
Hope you know what this means, I was left with the option of either sleeping in school or walking home. I know you will say, "You can ask someone for help, financially, they will help you." Believe me, that was what I thought. So I asked one lady from the ATM line, she looked full of joy, smiling at everyone. I asked, ''Ma, I am stranded, I need..." I was interrupted, "You must be a mad man! Where would I get such from? Was it not two of us that was on the line? Behave yourself." I never told her what I wanted, but it seems she had an idea. I summoned courage to ask other persons, but the more I asked, the more the aggression increased. One even went as far as giving me a slap, I anticipate the first one and dodged it, but the follow up slap connected.
I made the decision, I chose to walk home. School is not safe. Was it not last week I heard that two boys were killed when they were having night class. Just yesterday Sunkanmi, my course mate was battered on her way home, she was battered in school. It was 8:45pm now. I was brave, not knowing what awaits me on the way. I trudged on, "Could it get any worse than this?", I thought, 'it can't', I replied myself.
Well, I still hoped that things would be okay, so I still asked from shop to shop as I walked home, hoping that someone will have mercy on me and help me. In fact, "Have mercy on me and help me", was what I addressed them with. Some didn't listen to me at all, some pitied me, but none helped me. You can't blame them sha, I was a victim of a perverse society. People don't ask for help without ulterior motives I guess.
Well no need to complain any longer, it will end very soon. Yes. I was close to my street. I think what delayed me was the time spent asking people for help. I am a fast walker. 'Don not count your chicks before they hatch', very wise saying. Hmmmm...
If I had know, I would not have put on my earpiece. I was almost home, and I wanted to sing my victory song. Hmmm...was that what attracted them to me? Or was it how I was shouting at the top of my voice? While walking and dancing, I heard, "Hey, stop there." How could this be, has the lyrics of the song changed?" I asked myself. Then I heard it again. This time with a heavy slap in the face. I did not understand fully what was going on. But I knew it was wahala. At that point, I remembered what sir Jkoded always says, "Wahala no good o." I saw it as a joke when he says it. But with that slap, I knew first hand that wahala is not a good thing. Forgive my English, but at that time in my life, I didn't think that the correctness of the English mattered. The slap came from a police officer.
I don't know, if it was the slap that reset my head. I remember my small phone that I kept in my bag. We were not allowed to carry our phones to the exam hall—I bet you, a market calculator gives you more advantage in the exam hall compared to this phone, no need carrying the phone into the examination hall. There were three officers. One of the police men asked me, "where are you coming from by this time?" "From school", I said. They all chorused, "Criminal! Animal! Cannibal!" "I am coming from school, yes sir", I said that almost 20 times but it seems they did not hear me. I shouted all the more, even flashing my school I.D card, but they kept asking the same question. Otubanaya!
"What have I gotten myself into?" I asked myself. I brought my phone out to check the time. Don't ask me what the time was: the officers did not give me an opportunity to know that. I heard, "If you make any call, I will surprise you"—like I was not already surprised. They took the phone, turned it on, and went through it. After some minutes they turned to face me. One of them asked me, "Who is Oyibo, so you are one of the scammers? Animalistic Criminal!" All I could say at that point was, "Otubanaya". They replied, "You say?" Blame me all you want, but Otubanaya was the only thing I could mutter in that situation.
Oyibo is the name I used to store Ojimani's number because of his complexion. That was how my series of unfortunate events landed me in police custody. I can assure you, I explained and explained, but they did not listen, it seemed as though they had their ears and minds stuffed with something. I was released in the morning, my uncle brought me out.
Very traumatic experience...I have being try to balance myself since it happened.
(This is a written story, it was formed)
