My Revenge will surely come; (in due time).
I felt like something touched me, what seemed like someone’s leg. I opened my eyes to behold a very dark room without any possibility of seeing shadows. My head ached like never before. Where was I? This cannot be my room; I was on the floor, why am I here? I tried standing up only to realise I was not alone due to the movements and the collision with many other legs .I was not alone, in fact there were many of us, wherever this was, it was filled to capacity . Just then I started recalling what had happened the previous night. Stan! I tried calling the last person that was with me.
After Stan’s Convocation party, Stan and I were walking up to the school gate; the host of our friends that came from a very far place had ridden back to Ebuka’s lodge on Stan’s Car. So we had to trek back, as the party location is not far from the lodge mainly because we also wanted to talk or rather gossip about how hot the party was. Stan loved parties, more so sitting down to analyze all that went down and what happened when. We were shouting and laughing as we acted out how one of the guys got drunk and tried picking a fight with Stan for calling him to order when he started misbehaving towards the opposite sex, forcing a girl to stay and gist with him.
We were just few meters away from the school gate when a white Hilux van halted right in front of us. We stopped, it’s the Police; Stan said, No it’s the SARS (Special Anti-Robbery Squad); I said. They all jumped down from the vehicle and shouted at us to come, we hesitated, I told Stan that we should go and meet them, besides, he had his student I.D. we drew close and one of them came close to me and started asking what I was telling my friend, he was annoyingly shouting at me. I told him to calm down since I did not say anything that he needed to know (This was a wrong move considering that for one to make it to the armed forces or the police in Nigeria one has to be tall strong and well-built, well of course with the exception of the few short and not so built officers that “know someone”). The next thing I heard was zawayi!!! I immediately sobered up, I started seeing different colors of stars. I tried opening my mouth, looking at the SARS guy, and ask him what warranted the slap, but then my mouth could not open (and besides I did not trust my judgment at that point, I could easily say something wrong ,yet again!!). My mouth was not the only organ that was failing me, He was saying something but I could not get him, all I could see was his mouth moving up and down as if he wanted me to see his not so neatly arranged set of teeth, his breath chocked me. He must have drunk some of the cheap brews that was illegal. Were my eyes failing me too? Where is Stan? I silently asked myself as I tried to look around. I was busy looking around for Stan when another hot terrifying slap landed on my cheek followed by numerous blows, it was all happening too fast. All along the officer had been talking but I had heard nothing, zero, zilch, I did not even feel anything, my whole body was numb, my eyes shut and I fell down. That was the last thing I could remember about the previous night.
Stan! I called again. I heard what seemed to be his voice from another area, definitely not in the same dark room I was. My head was still aching. I closed my eyes, tried to imagine what was happening to me. I was in a police cell; Me. Everywhere smelt like shit, this is not even happening to me I somehow appreciated that the room was dark, I did not want to see what or whom was in that cell . Only God knows what this criminals have done I told myself as I looked for my phone and wallet but they were not there. I then tried talking to the guy close to me;
B… bro, where are we? I was afraid; it could be one of the hardened criminals. Hehehe, you are in the police cell, he responded, and continued, you dey lucky say you no enter the other cell, you for hear nwii. I then said again; I know we are in cell, I wanted to tell him that the species of odor emanating from the environment explains it all, but the fear in me kept that vocal part of me silent, so I told him that what I meant to ask was the name of the police station we were. He chuckled and told me that we were in Nsukka Area command, then I said to him; please don’t be angry, do you know what time it is? He said; 6am. I said thanks and then continued in my agony. At least its day break, soon, it will be 8am and they will come, give us our phones and ask us to call our relatives or friends to come and claim us, besides we did not do anything against the law. At that point I thought of myself as a commodity that needs to be claimed.
My head was still aching, I was very tired, I tried calling Stan once again; Stan! Ikenna, he responded. At least I was now sure he was somewhere around. Guy, where you dey? I shouted… then a Police Man from a nearby room shouted in response; if I catch that person wey dey make that noise, im name go be sorry. I was now thinking, what is worse than being here, for being here alone, my name is already sorry. I closed my eyes and prayed that time should run. But it did not, when one is in a bad situation is always the worst moment to check on time. The popular saying that time flies is not applicable to when you are in a bad situation, it’s the hard lesson I learned inside that Nsukka Police cell.
I woke up from what seemed like ages of sleep and was thinking that it would be around 10am. I was disappointed when I was told that it’s just 6:30am. Terrible, isn’t it? I felt like disappearing. I was beginning to feel pressed, but then I did not want to use the rest room. I had heard enough terrible stories, I remembered one of my friends who told me that criminals sign out or rather do autographs using their own waste and fingers to scribble things like “I was here” or to threaten the police men. I knew what it would be like, I held it and told myself that I can do it, I tried diverting my mind to something else and it worked, though partially. I sat anxiously waiting for 8am.
Behold 8am and behold the first police man that came on a routine check. He switched on the light at the passage way and I could see clearly, we were about eighteen guys inside one small room. The cell opposite was occupied by about seven beautiful but tired ladies. The police man had a sheet of paper in his hands, he started calling out names. He called about twenty names before he called Stan and then me. I knew that Stan must have given them my data as I was probably unconscious the whole time they took our details. I answered and he kept on calling, he called about seventy names before he stopped, A guy in my cell told me that 95% of the people in the list are innocent students like me that came for or did convocation. I called the attention of the police Man and told him that I need my phone, so that I could call my people and inform them what is going on, His response got me highly upset, he said, “Bros no be me bring una here oooo, na SARS people bring una here, and dey never come work” and he left,just like that. I was baffled, this is crazy I said. But nobody cares, what is important now is that I had to get out of here and soon! By now it was already 9:30am. Everywhere was very hot. I closed my eyes again trying to rest my head. I was very angry with myself and with everyone around me, I did not deserve to be here, I did not break the law. I am not a criminal I kept reassuring myself.
It was now 10am, No SARS officer came and all the police Men that came around said the same thing the first man said. My problems now started increasing, previously my only problems were; being in a cell, being in this stinking place, being locked up for not committing any crime and being pressed but not being able to ease myself. But now have got a couple more; I was hungry and I was feeling bored because I was not talking to anyone. I could never eat here even if there was something to eat. I decided to lighten up the environment, both for myself and for everyone in my cell, I started cracking jokes, at first, everyone was still feeling moody and kept a straight face. But then after a while, we were all chatting as if we knew one another before the incidence. We talked about so many things, ranging from our present situation to sports; football in particular. Somehow our chat eased a little tension, but then we were still in the cell, it cannot go beyond that.
Now, it was 11:30am. No SARS man yet. A police man came and called Chioma; one of the girls in the opposite cell. He opened the cell; she came out and followed him, she was illogically pretty. ”what could she have done”? I asked myself. I tried talking to the police man but he ignored me and left. I tend to think ignorance is a must for one to make a good cop in Nigeria After about ten minutes, the same police man came back alongside Chioma. He opened the cell again and she went inside, he locked and left. Immediately he left I called to ask Chioma what he had said to her, or what had happened outside. Chioma said that her friend had come to bail her and they asked her to bring five thousand naira, and she had gone to the bank to get the money. I was surprised; “how did your friend know that you are here?” She told us that her friend said she called her number this morning and a man picked it and told her that Chioma was in the police station at the Area command Nsukka. That was crazy I thought, what if no one calls my number. What if my Mom calls me, she did not even know that I travelled to Nsukka. I became more nervous. My thoughts were interrupted when the same police man came back again, opened the cell for Chioma and she came out to go with him. I called out to him by his name this time. I had looked up his name from his breast pocket. Ugwu! I called, he halted and looked back; wetin you want? He said, I then replied; please, I need to be out of here,, am not sure I knew what I wanted to say, I need my phone to call my people or a friend, I did not do anything wrong, I am not supposed to be here. He looked at me as if I was a fool, then said; wait for the SARS men that brought you here and say that to them. He left with Chioma. How could one person be so cold? I thought to myself.
At this time, the call of nature that I thought I had suppressed came disturbing again; I was pressed this time with a higher momentum. I told myself that this was not going to happen, that I must hold it still. Then a thought came to my mind, if this people are picking our calls then I should be out soon, because Ebuka, Stan’s closest friend and my friend too must be looking for us by then. We were supposed to sleep at his lodge inside school. Until we were captured we were talking to him on the phone and he was expecting us. Then the call of nature became unbearable, I could not hold it back again, the time was about 1:30pm. I called out for the police man to come and open the cell for me, so that I can go and ease myself at the convenience almost opposite my cell, close to the female cell. The type of odor coming out from there made me fidget even as I called to be allowed to go in there. I did not hear anyone coming until after five minutes. The police man came back again, before I could open my mouth to tell him that I needed to ease myself, he said; who is Ikenna and Stan. Oh My God!!! Finally. So I did not have to go into this dirty toilet. I answered and then Stan answered too, he opened our cells and we came out. Stan had bruises on the face, I asked him what had happened and he said it was one of the tough guys in his cell who had slapped and smashed his face on the wall when he first got into the cell because he did not greet him.
We came outside; Ebuka was waiting for us. He paid them five thousand naira for each of us he told us later. We went to the counter and took our belongings and left.
So many times, I have wanted to assault a police officer for not doing their job on behalf of that someone they will rough up and harass (with questions and a lot of shoving) just for walking to point B at 11PM, even after showing them their I.D. And then instead of, at least, escorting them home so that we get there safely. Just once, I'd love it if the police did their job, especially for those of us who cannot afford to buy justice, or fuel their Hilux Van.
police, if I come to the police station to report a rape case, or domestic violence, or child abuse, or a robbery, or trespass, or a job termination without (prior) notice, or sexual harassment, or anything else that should be reported to the cops, please do your job and don't ask for 10,000 naira, because I don't have the audacity to assault you the same way you did me.
I spent a Night in the Cell, I am not a suspect, No statement was made. This people just made money at our expense.
They have succeeded for the time being. But no one knows tomorrow. I can never forget that horrible experience. I don’t know how but my revenge will surely come in due time.
