George
knew he wouldn’t miss the party organized by the Kegites club that night for
anything. Not even his editorial work would keep him in the hostel. His crew
still had some write-ups to finish. They were on the recent Black Axe case
dismissal by the Court, but he could always come back to them afterward. He
preferred to work late when most people slept. The noise around that period was
lower, and he could concentrate. His cronies would be in their beds too at that
time. Even if the editorial was pressing, it was vital for him to make an
appearance at the party. It came with his duties. It was not easy being the
Secretary General of the Students’ Union especially that of a great institution
like Obafemi Awolowo University, but it was a responsibility he loved. As such,
he carried out his functions dutifully. Most of the students don’t even
remember his name. Everyone called him Afrika, a nickname that had gained
popularity very quickly due to his activism and staunch anti-cultism views. He
was also aware that some other individuals and groups loathed him for the same
reasons.
George’s
intolerance for cultism and all its vices knew no bounds. He was ready to use
his position and all in his disposition to wage war against it. It saddens him
every time he thinks about how the government and influential people in various
places of authority destroy the future of those that should become the envy of
tomorrow by encouraging violence. Youths were meant to become empowered with
education and reliable platforms that would build them, not by giving them
machine guns, machetes, and charms to terrorize their colleagues and the
society at large. It was difficult for students to talk or walk freely for fear
of stepping on some toes. It all had to stop! George vowed to himself again
that he would never rest on his oars. His position in the Union also helped him
a great deal. He had a voice that many could hear. Although the school
management hardly listened to them, he would continue to announce his presence.
He also had a large group of followers among the students. He donned on his
freshly starched and ironed Adire and left the room. His friends would be
expecting him already.
The
party wore on late into the night and the early morning of the next day. There
was a large gathering. The Kegites had selected a perfect spot. The Awolowo
Hall was famous among the rest of the male halls because of the endless
gyrations staged in it. There was never a dull moment for its inhabitants. Even
when there were no parties, the hostel had some restless students that would
never allow a day to go without some drama. It was a place of relaxation after
the day’s stress with the sadist lecturers. The hall commanded a lot of
respect. It was the birthplace of many of the Country’s leaders. For George, it
was where he could be himself. He had no idea that all was to change that
morning. It about 3:30 a.m, but the gyration showed no signs of ending. The
Kegites kept the people entertained with their palm-wine inspired songs. Males
and females swayed similarly to the drunken voices. Calabashes of fermented
palm drink got transferred from hand to hand. It was a time when people could
drink to their hearts’ contents. As such, no one was prepared for the strings
of events that happened next.
One
minute, everyone was having fun, and the next, the gates of hell got opened!
Pandemonium broke out as the students scurried to safety. Gunshots suddenly
filled the air. People fell as metals met flesh, but nobody stood to watch. No
one waited to ask questions as the intruders created havoc. Voices of pain and
students calling for help rented the air, but none was forthcoming. The
assailants’ blows got administered below the belt.
George
couldn’t believe it was the end of the road for him. He had been cornered
unprepared. He stared into the eyes of his would-be killers. They were many.
Some of them had guns, while many of them had machetes whose blades shone
brightly in the dark. His guts told him that it was not going to be painlessly.
These people wanted him to feel the pain he had caused them. He begged for his
life even though he knew that they were merciless. The last thought that
crossed his mind and those of the many others that were bold enough to watch
from the windows of their rooms was that the country had lost a great virtue.
Comments
Post a Comment