MEMOIRS OF A YOUNG NIGERIAN GIRL

Chronicles Of Osas VI

So far so good, the holidays have been good. The last time I spoke to Osas was the day we all arrived home for the start of the holidays. It was just us inquiring about how our journey was. We talked for a while and her voice sounded bright and beautiful as she was. I asked if her stepdad was around, thankfully she said he was not, that he travelled to someplace only God knows where. Sincerely we both weren't interested. He could be anywhere he wanted to be on planet earth, but definitely not around Osas. I prayed earnestly for her holiday to be void of any drama whatsoever. The bitter truth is we can only pray, have faith and pray the heavens have mercy on us in all that we do and any mishap we encounter and the universe doing the exact opposite of what we don't want.

One afternoon in mid August, I was reading a book, a book containing poems when a particular poem 'YANGA TOLOTOLO' caught my attention, a particular verse of the poem that caught my attention went thus

'The laziest of her kind
The most foolish of her species
The peacock does not crow
To warn us of fleeting previous time
Just YANGA TOLOTOLO.'

The peacock in the sentence is a word used to describe humans and how we most times do the wrong things and TIME keeps passing us by to definitely do the right things. In summary, THE FOOLISHNESS OF MAN.

While admiring the verse and still trying to key into its more deep meanings, I was prompted to call Osas who was a lover of poem to share it with her and also hear her own meaning about the poem verse. I stood up to go get the phone to dial Osas number. On the first ring, there was no response. I tried again for the second, third and fourth time, still no response. I was beginning to feel antsy and my imagination ran a thousand mile. I hoped Osas was safe. I prayed fervently. I collected myself and tried again for the fifth time. It rang for a while before there was response.

"Hello", Osas answered.

"Hello", I responded.

The sound of the hello from Osas was not giving. Her voice sounded croaky and coarse like someone with a patched dehydrated throat. I faintly heard the sound of snorting from her end.

"Osas are you ok", I asked

"I am not", she responded. Immediately she said that, my shoulders dropped.

He did it again Martha. This time it wasn't just harassment, I was raped. Martha he raped me, she said weeping. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach, tears beginning to run down my cheeks.

"How, how did it happen," I asked. Were you not able to reach the counsellor, how about the agencies involved, I kept on asking. Why did you not try to get to me.

Martha, I was drugged, he drugged me. I don't know how it happened. The only thing I remember of myself is him offering me a bottle of water and boom, I saw black dots.

For me i was mad, I felt intense anger. My anger surge could generate electricity for a small community. Why would a grown ass man do this, why would he want to satisfy his insatiable sexual urges with a young girl of sixteen who is my friend who hasn't really matured in many ways, why wouldn't her mother listen to her when she complained. A lot of WHYS were having cosmic play in my head all at once. I just knew I had to meet up with her, she needs all the humanly presence she can get as of now.

Osas was still crying on the phone when I asked her to give me the address of her house, that I was coming over to her place to see her when she declined.

"Why", I asked. Why don't you want me to come over.

Listen, Osas said, "I won't allow you come to the devil's lair. What if he shows up when it's just us both at home and do the same to you. Trust me, I won't forgive myself". Instead, let's meet up somewhere else, somewhere else, but not just my home.

"How about my house", I offered.
That sounds better, she replied in between tears. I was still worried and I asked if she could manage to get to my house unscathed, and she told me she will call for an uber.

There and then, I took in a breath of relief.
Give me a minute, let me get a pen and a paper, she said. I waited for her and when she was ready, I called and she took down the address. She said she needs to go off the call, so she can freshen up to come meet me. I obliged and I went outside the compound gate to wait for her like a child waiting for her parents to arrive. Everyone goes through one or two, don't they?

YANGA TOLOTOLO IS A POEM I
READ FROM A BOOK TITLED
MORAL POEMS AND VERSES.
THE EXCERPT OF THE POEM
ON THIS CHAPTER ABOVE BELONGS TO THE AUTHOR