AFRIKA-THE LOST VIRTUE

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.