Stop And Say No To Jungle Justice In Nigeria And Africa. |
" OLE, OLE, OLE! " she screamed. I was stunned, too dazed to move. I did not think she would care so much, It was just one cup! I was too hungry to run, I could suffer a few slaps, some knocks on the head, a flogging at most at the hands of the area boys; none of that matches the worms eating away at my intestines. I should be in school by now, other kids went to school, I see them every morning on their merry way to school. Their uniforms looking so smart and beautiful. I wish I could wear beautiful uniforms and go to school too, I wish I had a mom and dad who loves me, I wish I had a house and a bed, I wish I had food.
Something hit me on the head, I felt myself fall. I try to open my eyes, her cry had been taken up by multiple other voices. " OLE, OLE, OLE! " they chanted angrily, they were upon me. I have been beaten several times before, but not like this. The pain was unbearable, the whips, the sticks, the stones, the wires, the chains. I cried, normally when you are beaten and you cry the beating stopped, but not today. They dragged me around hit me everywhere, I felt wet all over. It was not water, it was blood. My blood, I cried even louder hoping it would make them stop.
I struggled up on my knees and begged. Blood in my eyes made it difficult to see, but I could make out a few faces. Familiar faces, faces filled with hate and disgust. Why won't they help me? Why aren't they doing anything? Why are they killing me? Some of them were holding their phones in their hands taking pictures of me. No one had ever taken my picture before. " OLE, OLE, OLE! " they chanted some more even louder than before. They sounded like the church near the park where I sleep during one of their numerous vigils and crusades. They always woke me up every morning with their prayers.
I have always wanted to go and pray to God, maybe he would give me food, and parents, and uniforms and cute little school bags, but they always drove me away. Beggars are not allowed inside the church, I guess I was not a child of God. The other kids wore beautiful clothes to church every Sunday, I have only this raggedy shirt and pants with many eyes on the buttocks. God would not like me, I am dirty. But if only he would give me a chance, He gave the other kids everything and gave me nothing. One of my assailants tied up my hands and legs. That was completely unnecessary because my whole body was numb now. I could not run even if I wanted to, my hands and legs did not look like mine anymore, they had several bumps and so much blood.
I have always wanted to go and pray to God, maybe he would give me food, and parents, and uniforms and cute little school bags, but they always drove me away. Beggars are not allowed inside the church, I guess I was not a child of God. The other kids wore beautiful clothes to church every Sunday, I have only this raggedy shirt and pants with many eyes on the buttocks. God would not like me, I am dirty. But if only he would give me a chance, He gave the other kids everything and gave me nothing. One of my assailants tied up my hands and legs. That was completely unnecessary because my whole body was numb now. I could not run even if I wanted to, my hands and legs did not look like mine anymore, they had several bumps and so much blood.
I kept crying for help. " Bring tire! Bring tire! " one of them yelled. One was rolled up in no time. They put it around my neck, I cried even more. I knew what was coming. I had seen it several times before, this was the end. But I am just a child. Another one ran up with a jar and poured its contents all over me. The cold soothing feeling it brought was a little relief. The last one I was to receive in this cruel world, this was it. I did not see the fire coming. Someone must have eagerly struck a match. All my cries for help were drowned in their gleeful cheers for my cleansing. But I only wanted something to eat.
Fire! My skin peeled away. my hair turned to ash. I had no strength to struggle but my body struggled anyway. I lay down in the pool of my own blood, petrol and fire. This must be the hell the preachers always talked about. " OLE, OLE, OLE! " their hateful chants continued. Suddenly their voices faded away, my wounds stopped hurting. The fire lost its sting, I was not hungry anymore, peace, quiet, darkness was the closest experience I can relate. #StopJungleJustice
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