#saynotodrugabuse

By ADEWARA JOSES

SAY NO TO DRUG ABUSE

The first time I visited a police station. The scorching sun cast its rays on my bald head. I just returned home from work to rest my weakened body of its stress. I inserted the key into the hole on the door. I turned the knob to unlock. I flung my handbag at an unknown angle, as it landed on my medium sized mattress.

My house was a single room apartment, with features you’d always find in a bachelor’s cubicle. I forgot to pull off my shoes before my body fell supine on the bed. My eyes, studying the rotational motion of the fan spinning some heights above my head, beckoned for some nap – or maybe a prolonged sleep.

I managed to close my eyelids, inviting the sleep, as I felt some vibrations on my right thigh. I reached my pocket to pull out the phone interrupting my sleep. It was a call, from an unregistered number. The digits beamed widely on the screen, awaiting my finger to tap, but all my fingers were already weak – I had been typing all day, I’ve got so much projects to handle – to even hold for seconds. I watched the digits fade off my phone screen as I returned my head to lie back on the pillow. Just about five seconds after, my phone vibrated again, shaking the book on which it lay. I picked the phone, swiped up to accept the call, placed it on loudspeaker, and then returned to my position.

No regards from the caller. No Hello from me.
The only thing I could pick from the call was “your attention is needed …”

I brought my head closer to the phone and managed to let out words from my lips, “who are you?”
The same clause kept echoing, but, this time, ended with “…at Ajegunle Police Station”.

“Who are you?” I quizzed again?

“You are speaking with D.P.O Emmanuel Kolawole, I’m sure I’m reaching on to Mr Caleb. Your attention is urgently needed at …”

Now, my eyes were clearer, I was now seated at the edge of the bed; I held the phone closer to my left cheek, “Hello. Yes Sir. Please, what is the matter …?”
His voice faded off without an answer to my question. Maybe he exhausted his airtime. Maybe he hung the call, I was unsure, so, I dialled the number again to confirm whether I heard him clearly or not. Sleep faded of my eyes, after dialling the third time, yet, without a response, I stood from the bed, and walked towards the door. “Police station!!!  What have I to do there?“ I wandered as I bent to straighten my trousers.

Right in front of the station, I saw many faces; none seemed familiar until I entered through the veranda. I saw Adedayo, a neighbour of mine, handcuffed amidst some other huge men. Adedayo was a boy who ruled the street. He appeared like a wounded being who had suffered from severe beating. His body was a map, where scars of stones, sticks and rods were drawn.

After several inquisition of what had happened to Dayo. After the repeated silence, the officer responded, “Oga, this your friend is really a dangerous being…”

“My friend?” I quizzed.

“Yes, your friend”

“Dayo is not my friend, please”

“This man here is a devil oh…”

“You mean?” I interrupted. “I know Dayo and his promiscuous lifestyle, but he is in no way similar to the devil. The devil is black, Dayo is not black. The devil should have horns, Dayo doesn’t have. The devil is…”

Ignoring my humour, he went on. ” Just recently, we heard of the activities of a private charity organisation. They had been going to various secondary schools to offer gifts in cash and kinds to students. There had been several reports from various school managements, on how their students had been misbehaving. Many teachers suspected it was as a result of the free gifts they had been receiving, which had been pulling them away from their studies.

"It never appeared strange. We only needed to conduct some searches on the origin of this charity organisation and their source of wealth. After series of investigations, the origin was traced; we found out that this charity organisation was only a disguised platform for hard drug dealers. In a bid to attract younger ones into indulging in their practices, they became a charity organisation. Their vision is to lure youths in the community into their practices. Some numbers of secondary school students were initiated weeks ago, and they were taught how to use these hard drugs.

“These are the culprits we’ve found.” He pointed towards Dayo’s direction, and his gangs standing beside him. “The investigation is still on, and we are already making awareness to discourage the young ones from drugs.

Youths are already getting misled because of the counterfeited charity of these devils.” Fury was all over him already, as he placed more emphasis on ‘these devils.’

“Really?” I exclaimed. “So, all these have been going on in the society, while I’ve been uninformed… this is the time for us to rise up and say no to drug abuse…”