#WisdomTablets (13)

Did You Know That, Life Is Unfair?
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The last time I checked, we were yet to note that life
isn't fair to mankind. Have you ever wondered why
having put in your very best into a certain cause you
are involved, failure would still be the outcome in the
long run? The answer is simple and succinct; life itself
is unfair.

Believe it or not; life was not, has not been, and will
never be, fair. People in most quarters are often of the
notion that life is like mathematics, which gives you
two when you add one to one. On the contrary, life
could give you eleven when one is added to one.

It's noteworthy that, in some circumstances, life would
drill your person in such a manner that you would begin
to wonder if your existence is abhorred  by nature; that
you would inadvertently ponder over the reason you
were created in the first place.

This is why everyone is bound to be a member of a revered
school of thought known as realism. Realism, which does
not withhold facts, teaches mankind how to aptly absorb the
intricacies of life. It makes man to appreciate the content
of life to the fullness. It gives mankind the insight on how to
comprehend that life is never friendly.

It suffices to say that, on the average, a realist doesn't frown
at the hurdles brought by life because he or she has ab initio
acknowledged that life itself is unfair.

At this juncture, I challenge us to be strong enough to handle
whatever experience life, or nature, may bring. All in all, don't
expect to be favoured by life irrespective of the circumstance.
Just endeavour to do your best, exercise a little faith, and leave
the rest for your fate. #ThinkAboutIt

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ShortStory I Effect Of Ignorance

EFFECT OF IGNORANCE

        

       “Tosin.” Ayo called friendly.

       “My Oga.” responded Tosin.

       “Abeg stop this your oga of a thing.” Ayo urged. “My name is Ayo.”

       “But, you are my oga nah.”

       “Oga ko, oga ni.” Ayo disapproved in vernacular.

       “Okay ooh!”

       “Well,” Ayo rode on. “Abi won ask you how we go roll today.” he said, paused. “The route we entered yesterday didn’t make sense at all..” he added.

        Ayo and Tosin operated a commercial L300 bus owned and managed by a transport investor, in the city of Lagos. The former was the driver of the vehicle whilst the latter happened to be the conductor. Therein as they leaned on the front side of the bus in question, at about some minutes past seven O’clock in the morning on a Tuesday, they were as usual discussing how the day’s operation would be as well as the actual route(s) they would be plying.

         The 32-year-old Ayo who was clad in a casual attire had before now strongly registered his disappointment over the route they plied in the previous day being Monday, stating that the revenue generated was very poor compared to their earlier outings; hence, wanted the 25-year-old Tosin to suggest a way forward.

        “Let’s enter Mile-2.” Tosin suggested.

        “From Mile-2 to where?” verified Ayo.

        “Oshodi.”

          They were already at Oshodi, thus were meant to be headed for Mile-2 after loading the bus.

        “Okay,” concurred Ayo. “Make we try nah.”

          In a few seconds time, they drove off. Some minutes on, they were on the ever-busy road situated between the two aforementioned localities.

       “Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh!” Tosin resumed duty at the top of his voice as he clinched to the bus’ entry point like a monkey that intended catching banana. “Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo!!” he supplemented in a louder mode.

        Intermittently, people kept trouping in while the vehicle was slightly on motion as he (Tosin) kept alerting prospective passengers to patronize the 18-seetter bus that wore yellowish paint as requested by the Lagos transport authority.

        “Everybody hold your change ooh..!” Ayo conscientized as he ebulliently controlled the throttle, letting the passengers realize the compelling need to enter the bus with low denomination (naira) notes.

        “Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo!” Tosin proceeded with alacrity. “Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh!!” he reiterated.

         The exclamation continued unabated till the vehicle got filled to the conductor’s delight.

        “Everybody hold your change oooh…” Ayo echoed as the tradition demanded.

          For those who were already in the bus when the first message came from the driver, that was meant to serve as a reminder.

         “Everybody hold your change.” he repeated after some seconds. “We no get change oooh!!” 

          Having gotten the required number of passengers, the vehicle zoomed off, and headed towards its destination. Owing to traffic jam and what have you, it had to move slow and steady. What matters most was that it would surely arrive at Mile-2 as requested by its passengers.

        “O boy,” Ayo called his assistant who was still standing by the door. “Abeg begin to collect my moni.” He urged.

         Tosin was not too steady in the job, so he (the driver) needed to continue reminding him of how it was being done.

       “No wahala.” replied the ever-vibrant Tosin.

         Few seconds later, unfortunately, the vehicle broke down to everyone’s utmost surprise. “What could be the problem?” one of the male passengers thought aloud.

        “Na wa ooh!” exclaimed a woman who sat beside the man.      

          It seemed the fuel had dried up, and they were so careless enough that they didn’t bother opening the bus’s bonnet let alone checking the fuel tank before commencing the day’s outing.

       It was about 8.00am. It wasn’t news that an average passenger on the busy Lagos road was impatient, thus could not afford to experience any bit of delay while headed for his/her working place, especially the employees who were more time conscious.

        Each occupant in the bus individually stepped out, hoping that the plight would be fixed soonest or to be transferred to another vehicle plying the route. Ayo and Tosin equally stepped out, and the latter hurriedly went to the bus’ booth, picked a fuel gallon and headed for a nearby filling station.

        Minutes on, the bus was refueled, hence, regained its energy. Consequently, the pathetically-looking passengers were conscientized to resume their respective seats.

        Within a twinkle of an eye, Ayo reignited the engine and changed the gear immediately. “Abeg, start dey collect moni.” He reminded his assistant.

        “Abeg,” Tosin told the passengers in accordance with the directive issued by the boss. “Make everybody hold he hundred naira for hand.” He enjoined in pidgin.

         On hearing the instruction, everyone quickly exposed the naira notes within his or her reach. Without wasting much time, Tosin began to collect the notes from each of them, starting from those seated at the row sited beside the driver.

         He was shock to his bone barrow when he got to the turn of a young lady seated very close to him; the said lady who seemed to be in her early twenties handed a thousand naira note over to him.

        “Wetin be this?” Tosin queried.

        “Which question be that?” the lady replied in a more unfriendly mood.

        “Shebi we tell una say make una hold una change?” the driver interrupted.

         She got infuriated by the query. “So if I don’t have change, I should not go to where I want to go?”

        “Which kai temptation be this?” quoth Tosin. “You for tell me say you no get change the time wey you enter motor.”

        “Abeg-abeg-abeg,” she boiled. “I don’t have time to argue with a common conductor like you.”

        “Nawa ooh..?” exclaimed Tosin. “We never reach that side nah.” He said, trying to inform the lady that she was overreacting.

         Rather than calming down, acknowledging the submissiveness of the conductor as well as the fact that she was faulty, the seeming troublesome lady became hotter thereby continue to call Tosin names such as tout, nonentity, and so on. Nevertheless, the abused person never got offended; instead he chose to laugh over the scenario.

         Having been intensely pissed off by the rate of the abuses, Ayo hastily cleared to the roadside and applied the brakes. “Come let me tell you,” he said, facing the abusive lady while still seated in his seat. “The young man you are calling all sorts of names is a fourth year student of Medicine and Surgery in the University of Ibadan, UI.” He informed.

         On receiving the information, the passengers unanimously shook their heads in amazement. They – particularly the lady – looked at Tosin in silent awe. The lady melted in a jiffy and inadvertently began to weep as she tenderly fixed her gaze on Tosin’s who was seated by the door-side.

         Ayo was also a graduate. He studied engineering in one of the universities in the West, Nigeria. Due to unemployment palaver, he chose to settle for his current occupation which he had been into for over two years now. Tosin who hailed from a poor home usually assisted him whenever he had a semester break.

         Funnily enough, the abusive lady who had now ostensibly embraced repentance was seeking for admission in the aforesaid institution (U.I) to study Marketing and her chances of securing admission was far-fetched.

        

    

FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri

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Twitter: @mediambassador  

Opinion I Okorocha And The Ongoing Payment Of Pension Arrears

OKOROCHA AND THE ONGOING PAYMENT OF PENSION ARREARS

         

The last time I checked, there were ongoing rigorous payments of pension arrears in Imo, the Eastern Heartland. The gesture might not be unconnected with the pledge recently tendered by the state’s number-one citizen, Governor Rochas Okorocha.

         

It would be recalled that on Thursday 20^th July 2017, the governor via a press release confirmed the receipt of seven billion naira Paris Club refund from the Federal Government (FG). He went further to disclose that the Rescue Mission Administration would use the fund to clear the backlog of pension arrears, commencing from January 2017 till date. He equally stated that workers’ salaries would as well be paid with the fund.

         

The release recognized that the government had earlier promised to start paying the pensioners on a monthly basis beginning from the first month of 2017. The statement read in parts ‘the government kept this promise  in abeyance following the steady and disturbing increase in the number of pensioners and the amount involved, worrisomely snowballing to more than #1.5 billion’.

         

Consequently, in August the following month, the government began a holistic verification of the teeming pensioners across the Local Government councils in the state having set up a Pension Verification Committee. The exercise was concluded as planned. It’s worth noting that those who were indisposed owing to illness or what have you, were captured via video call at the Children’s Recreation Park opposite Concorde Hotel Owerri as was conducted by the said screening panel.

         

In subsequent to the concluded verification, payment began in earnest as scheduled, and still ongoing. Any other individual or leader would have allowed the written cheques to be collected by proxy since each of the pensioners had painstakingly been verified, but the governor insisted that they must come in person to clear their cheques. The governor’s decision was informed by the compelling need to ensure that no foul play is involved throughout the exercise with a view to discovering the loopholes that had warranted the excesses recorded in the past as well as fishing out the bad eggs therein.

        

Most of the senior citizens grumbled over the directive of the governor, which they tagged ‘uncalled for and inconsequential inconvenience’. But it’s noteworthy that the said directive of the government under the watch of Gov. Okorocha had yielded a worthwhile fruit thus far. It is good to acknowledge that the prangs played by some of the account officers had reportedly been revealed, and the culpable officers fished out, in the ongoing process.

        

One may wish to know how those prangs were discovered. Having written the cheques by the concerned staff of the state’s Pension Board, the governor went ahead to engage virtually all the Directors of Account (DAs) presently serving in various ministries and parastatals in the state. The prime duty of the DAs was to ensure that only one cheque was written for a particular pensioner as well as ensure that the cheque is duly confirmed and collected by the beneficiary whose name is inscribed on it.

        

So far, we have learnt that a given pensioner’s name was written on different cheques, probably three cheque papers or thereabouts. For instance, if Mr. A is meant to collect #5, rather #15 or more would leave the state’s coffer for that particular name in a case where three cheques were written in that very name. In some cases, the cheques were written in the names of non-pensioners. You could imagine the excesses? This was how these account personnel had been rolling for years now unnoticed, not until this point when the governor thought it wise to take the bull by the horn.

       

No wonder why in the past when pensioners collect their cheques, before they could get to their respective banks, they would be told that the account where the pension fund is domiciled had been emptied. Little did they realize that several non-pensioners were withdrawing from the same account to the detriment of the real beneficiaries. Now the thunderous breeze had blown open the dirty ass of the fowl.

         

I candidly commend the governor for this giant stride. This accomplishment is arguably best of its kind. With this development, I am sure the pensioners can now be paid as and when due without much ado. I equally appreciate everyone who had played one key role or the other towards ascertaining the above lapses, thus wish that more feathers would be added to their wings.

        

However, this scrutiny mustn’t stop at this juncture. The government who has started this exemplary move needs to ensure that everyone found culpable is henceforth duly prosecuted having shown the way out. It suffices to say that no mercy ought to be displayed by the relevant authorities. The indicted staff ought to be handed over to the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) for corresponding actions to be taken thereof. This would go a long way to serve as a deterrent to other prospective ones. I’m also not unaware that a few politicians might be accomplices to these civil servants; hence, they must equally be fished out so that the system would be holistically free from sycophants and hypocrites.

       

Above all, I have been reliably informed that only three months pension arrears are being paid to the senior citizens rather than eight months as earlier pledged. The report indicates that they were asked to come back the following week for the remaining ones. Against this backdrop, I urge the government to endeavour to do the needful so that in the long run, there won’t be any more exchange of words between them and these revered pensioners who had indeed served the state meritoriously. I may not be one of them but I feel and share their grief, thus I plead with the government to stick to its promise.

         

Similarly, there should equally be an arrangement that would enable those who are currently bedridden or residing outside the country to collect their cheques. In view of this, I’m of the view that the video call measure deployed during the verification era ought to be redeployed at this time. This would ensure that no beneficiary is sidelined as long as the exercise lasts.

         

Most importantly, there’s a compelling need for the governor to make an alternative arrangement towards ensuring that in subsequent time, the collection of cheques would be decentralized. The old men and women should be saved from the torture of covering distances in order to possess their cheques. The government must note that most of these individuals are weak and aged, thus deserved to be pampered.

        

In acknowledgement of the above fact, let various teams be set up, so that, the pensioners can collect their cheques at their respective wards. The need for setting up numerous teams is to ensure that the exercise is conducted simultaneously and just on one day, rather than the ongoing style where each LGA would be involved on a particular day.

         

So, as much as I appreciate the governor for this remarkable effort showcased by his administration, I enjoin His Excellency to ensure that henceforth we shall be awash with progressive discussions and happenings instead of retrogressive ones. This is purely the dream of all, and not mine. Think about it!

 

Comrade FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
______________________________

frednwaozor@gmail.com

Twitter: @mediambassador     

ShortStory I Concealed ill

CONCEALED ILL

       “Engr. Egun.” Dr. Kuku called as he was seated in his office chair.

       “Yes sir.” responded Engr. Peter Egun who sat directly opposite the caller.

       “What is this I am hearing about you?”

       “What is it, sir?”

         Dr. Andrew Kuku had remained hell-bent toward ensuring that things were done the right way. Ever since he popularly emerged as the Head of the Department of Civil Engineering in the revered Otiko Polytechnic situated in the South-South zone of Nigeria, eleven months back precisely, he had ostensibly vowed never to give room for any sort of criminality or immorality, which included truancy, exam malpractice and ‘sorting’, among the overall staff and students of the highly rated department.

        Barely three months back, he recommended a lecturer in the department who allegedly molested female students sexually for dismissal right before the polytechnic Senate. The recommendation became consequential after countless reports received about the serial shameless acts of the alleged randy teacher. Consequently, the teacher in question Engr. Joel Okala was suspended, and upon investigations of a 5-man Committee set up by the polytechnic management, he was thereafter outrightly disengaged.

        Since about twelve weeks ago Engr. Okala was dismissed by the polytechnic Governing Body, every staff not just in the Civil Engineering department but in the entire Otiko Polytechnic had thought it wise to sit up toward averting any form of embarrassment that could be linked to their persons. But as the saying goes ‘there will always be a Judas amid the twelve apostles’, it seemed Engr. Peter Egun was yet another Judas in the midst of the disciples who had strongly vowed to remain committed to their respective duties having witnessed Engr. Okala’s fate.

         Therein, in the office of Dr. Andrew Kuku in the morning on a Monday, precisely at about few minutes past ten, Engr. Egun – a Masters degree holder in Civil Engineering – was about to be orally queried by the boss. The meeting was necessitated by the rumours that had filtered in lately, insinuating that the latter had been busy demanding money from his students in return for good grades. The H.O.D had in the previous day being Sunday called him (Engr. Egun) on phone, instructing him to see him in the office unfailingly on the following day.

       “That you now go about asking students for money,” Dr. Kuku rode on, frowning. “For good grades?”

       “What..?” exclaimed Engr. Egun, stood up.

       “Sit down, sit down.” the boss urged tenderly, gesticulating.

         Engr. Egun resumed his seat as requested, looked not unlike an ex-convict that was just released from the prison yard after many years of imprisonment.

         The dark-skinned and plump Dr. Kuku who was clad in Safari fabric, supported his lower jaw with his left arm that stood erectly on the table. “So you mean,” he said. “All these things I have been hearing are mere unfounded rumours?” He added, keeping his gaze on his (Egun’s).

         The sparingly light-complexioned and slim Engr. Egun quickly adjusted himself as he sat loosely in his seat. “Sir honestly,” he responded. “I don’t really know where this is coming from.” he said, paused. “Why would someone want to paint me black?”   

         “Hmmm…” Dr. Kuku exclaimed. “This is getting interesting.” He thought aloud.

         There was a brief silence.

       “Okay,” said the Doc. “You can take your leave.”

         Engr. Egun who was apparently trapped on the ground, was calm, couldn’t make a move

        “I said,” uttered the boss. “You can take your leave.” He frankly reechoed.

        “You mean,” said Engr. Egun. “I can leave..?” he verified in false pretences, gesticulating.

        “Yes,” replied Dr. Kuku. “Since you have refuted the allegation, what else do you expect me to say?”

          From the reactions thus far, the accused person could sense that the accuser was not yet convinced that he was innocent. “Okay,” uttered the former. “But I would like to ask, sir…” he said, still seated.

        “What is it?” interrupted the accuser.

        “How did you hear such rumour, sir?”

        “Of what need would such information be to you?” responded the boss.

          There was absolute tranquility.

        “I am asking, Engr. Egun?” reminded the Doc. “Why do you want to know how I got the rumour?”

        “No sir,” said Engr. Egun. “Just that…” he added, suddenly stopped.

        “Just what?” uttered Dr. Kuku. “I thought clear conscience fears no accusation?” he hinted. “So, I see no reason you should be worried about this.”

        “I am worried because this is ridiculous.”

        “Let me bother about that.” quoth Dr. Kuku.

        “Besides,” said the junior colleague. “My personality is at stake here.”

          The boss smiled stylishly. “Since you are innocent,” he said. “That shouldn’t bother you at all.” he added, paused. “After all, rumours are constant.”

           Engr. Egun stared at him in silent awe.

         “Now, you can take your leave.”

         “Okay sir.” Engr. Egun replied, stood up and calmly walked towards the door.

           The H.O.D, on his part, leaned on his seat and folded his arms, smiling. “This is the end of the road for you.” He thought, as he keenly watched the accused walked away.

           In a few seconds interval, Engr. Peter Egun was out of the office and headed for his as he was deeply preoccupied with fear of the unknown just like one docked in a court of competent jurisdiction.

         “Okay,” Dr. Kuku said aloud the moment Engr. Egun left. “We shall see.”

          As time went on, Engr. Peter Egun remained jittery, not knowing what the next second entailed. Even if he was innocent, such allegation had a way of making the accused look like an escape goat in the eyes of the public. He was of the notion that since such news had gotten to the H.O.D, virtually every staff in the department must have come across it. This presumption alone made him felt guilty before his colleagues.

        Three weeks on, he was eventually caught in the act. He was spotted in his office collecting gratification from his class representative who acted as an intermediary between him and the students. The H.O.D, Dr. Andrew Kuku was alerted immediately to come and see for himself.

         Afterwards, Engr. Egun joined his ill-fated colleague Engr. Joel Okala. His removal raised uncontrollable uproar among his teeming students who had immensely benefitted from his ‘benevolent’ policy. Some of the affected undergraduates would have seemingly preferred the death of their relatives to their benefactor’s sack.

         After Peter’s dismissal, Dr. Kuku reiterated the riot act of his administration to his workers with a view to ensuring that the likes of engineers Okala and Egun had a rethink.

         However, something unthinkable transpired merely four weeks after the sack of Engr. Peter Egun; Dr. Kuku was caught red-handed having carnal knowledge of one of his female students right in his seeming respected office. That fateful day appeared like the end of the world to the entire staff and management of the department, and of course the polytechnic community.     

         He was dismissed by the institution and handed over to the police for onward prosecution. Consequently, he was jailed for twelve years with hard labour.

 

FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
_____________________________________

Follow: @mediambassador

                       

Opinion I Owerri Tricycle Riders, TAXIMO and The Days Ahead

TRICYCLE RIDERS, TAXIMO AND THE DAYS AHEAD

         

The last time I checked, the entire commercial tricycle riders operating within the five-kilometre-radius of the Owerri metropolis had been given till 30^th September 2017 to vacate the said territory. The press release, which was issued by the Imo State government penultimate week, implies that as from the first day of October this year, the concerned commuters would cease to be recognized by the apt authorities.

        

The moment I got the info, the first statement I made was ‘Imo is at it again’. The exclamation was informed by the obvious fact that this is happening barely few days after the revered Ekeukwu Owerre market was eventually relocated amidst several disagreements cum mixed feelings. In fact, if I am opportune to reiterate the exclamation, I would rather say, Governor Okorocha is at it again.

          

It’s noteworthy that the directive was necessitated by the apparent ugly outlook the riders of the affected vehicle otherwise known widely as ‘Keke’ have constituted within the nooks and crannies of the city in question since its inception, thereby showcasing what could best be described as a ‘menace’. It’s not anymore news that in recent times, in terms of traffic congestion, virtually all the tricycle operators have ostensibly become worst than the riders of commercial motorcycle – popularly referred to as ‘Okada’ – that were banned from operating in the city years ago. Notwithstanding, we shouldn’t forget that the Keke has been very helpful to the teeming populace in their day-to-day lives.

          

It is equally worthy of note that the government has already made available Sport cars – to be called TAXIMO – that would replace the about-to-be banned vehicles. The cars are reportedly to be leased to interested commercial drivers on a hire purchase basis at the rate of one million naira. According to the government, if fully implemented, the proposed initiative would tremendously help to restore sanity within the shores of Owerri and its environs.

          

I wish to inform the government ably led by Gov. Rochas Okorocha that the notice is too short for the concerned individuals to properly prepare themselves towards embracing the forthcoming rainy day. On this note, I appeal on their behalf, for the September 30 to be extended to a further date, preferably in December 2017, to enable them be adequately equipped to face the challenges ahead.

        

The short quit notice might not be unconnected with the governor’s leadership mantra that says that the Rescue Mission Administration is ‘in a hurry to develop Imo State’. This kept me pondering over how much in haste is the government towards bringing the said change. However, no matter the intensity of the quest, it must take into cognizance that if the proposed initiative is not well implemented, it would end up causing more harm to the generality of the state than good.

          

No sane and rational being that does not yearn for positive change, but it’s pertinent to understand that the way and manner we go about it would have a great role to play in the long run. It suffices to say that whatever that is worth doing is worth doing well. This, we must not take for granted if truly the interest of Imolites at large is being considered as priority.

         

The proposed one million naira ought to equally be reviewed for the good of the prospective beneficiaries and the Owerri residents in general. Let there be a downward review of the stipulated amount, so they can pay up the debt in time and thereafter be recognized as car owners. This no doubt would go a very long way in increasing their respective daily earnings, thus motivating their individual selves. We need to acknowledge that the amount to be attached to the car would affect the price per passenger to be billed by the drivers.

         

Pricing is indeed a very crucial factor required to be considered while introducing an initiative of such into a system. In this case, the transport sector is in question. Taking Owerri as a case study, it’s worth noting that at the moment, no tricycle rider would charge his passengers more than fifty naira for any drop regardless of the distance. So, any change in this as a result to the incoming initiative would amount to unease among the concerned commuters.

        

The government should also ensure that the cars are enough to replace the number of the affected tricycles. Anything less than this would on the contrary contribute immensely in increasing congestion within the territory, because commuters seeking for commercial transit would overpower the available vehicles.

         

There is as well an inevitable need for the prospective drivers to be placed on an intensive training. The suggested training should inculcate, but not limited to, holistic traffic orientation, driving workshop and day-to-day vehicle maintenance. This would help to imbibe sound culture in them with a view to doing the needful as long as they operate the vehicles within the roads of Owerri.

         

Above all, a special team ought to be set up by the government to ensure proper sustenance of the initiative. Overtime, lack of maintenance culture has contributed immensely in bedeviling various laudable programmes embarked upon by governments at all levels, thus introduction of TAXIMO into the roads of Owerri wouldn’t be an exception. Against this backdrop, I enjoin that whatever team to be inaugurated to oversee the sustainability of this project must comprise experienced stakeholders from all angles including transporters, disciplinarians as well as administrators.

          

Imolites yearn for a project or an initiative that would stand the test of time; a programme that would remain after many years of gracious exit of the Rescue Mission government. This is surely the dream of all, and not mine. Think about it!

 

Comrade FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
________________________________

frednwaozor@gmail.com

Twitter: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/TheMediaAmbassador

         

        

ShortStory I Justice At Last

JUSTICE AT LAST

       Who could tell the actual reason the grief-stricken family had chosen to ‘abandon’ his remains? Several months had eventually come and gone, yet no one could tell for sure where his grave would be dug. The deceased’s body that pathetically lay in the morgue could now best be described as debris since the corpse had been relegated to the background by the embalmer owing to lack of payment by the supposed bereaved family.

        Mr. Seun Adegoke left the sinful world four months back. His abrupt mysterious exit was attributed to various evil acts allegedly committed by him. He was struck by thunderstorm in the early hours on a Sunday when he alongside his family was preparing to go to their place of worship.

        The 56-year-old Mr. Seun was till his sudden death happily married to Titi, and the marriage was blessed with four children. The couple could formerly boast of five children – 3 males and 2 females – not until two years back when their first child Kelvin, 24, was brutally killed by an auto crash; Kelvin was in his final year in a university when the ugly incident transpired in a broad daylight while returning from the campus for a semester break.

        Before the said chap departed, series of unforeseen deaths had occurred among the members of the Adegoke family at large. Mr. Seun’s immediate younger brother died at 51 in his farmyard barely three months to Kelvin’s exit. Prior to that, one of his (Seun’s) younger sisters who was married to a business mogul equally lost her first male child via electrocution; among others too numerous to mention. The killings were occurring serially that anyone in the family could be the next; hence, people within and beyond began to wonder what could be the cause of such untold and dreaded incidence.

       “Seun, my brother.” called Mr. Biodun Adegoke as he was seated in a single leather cushion.

        Mr. Biodun was Seun’s elder and only surviving brother; his other two male siblings had passed away in cold blood. The duo were seated in the latter’s home lounge in the late evening on a Saturday. It was exactly the night that preceded the day Seun was murdered by thunderstorm right in his matrimonial room. The former who lived a few meters away had thought it wise, albeit deceitfully, to visit his younger one towards discussing some pertinent issues bordering on their family’s ongoing crisis.

        Seun sat directly adjacent to him in another single upholstery chair. “Egwo mi.” Seun answered tenderly, fixed his gaze on Biodun’s.

         ‘Egwo mi’ meaning literally my elder brother.

        “What is actually happening to our family?” said the 64-year-old Biodun.

         Seun was calm, couldn’t utter a word.

        “Someone dying every minute of the day.” Mr. Biodun rode on. “This is getting very worrisome by the day.”

        “In fact,” said Seun. “I am tired myself.”

        “If you are tired,” responded Biodun. “I am fade up.”

        “Hmmm…” sighed Seun as he sat confusedly in his seat.

         It would interest, perhaps shock you to acknowledge that prior to this moment, Mr. Biodun had already brainwashed most members of the family, stating that Seun was the brain behind all the misfortunes taking place in their family. The false campaign occasioned by hatred was occurring unknowingly to the accused, and no member of the family was convinced enough to openly level the allegation against him. Seun got to know about it just a few days before he passed on but little did he realize that Biodun was the sole sponsor of the campaign.

         Some members of the family were at a point apparently convinced that Seun was a ritualist because the latter was a well-to-do trader and remained the most successful among them, though they pondered why he would use his own son (Kelvin) – who was obviously promising – for a ritual. The lingered scepticism was outrightly buried on the very day the man in question died; based on their custom, it was only persons who indulged in atrocities that could be killed by thunderstorm.

         “What do we do about these atrocities taking place right under our noses?” Mr. Biodun proceeded as he was seated in his seat. “Or, do we wait until it becomes our turn?” He added hesitantly, frowning.

         “God forbid!” Seun exclaimed, became more perturbed.

        There was abrupt silence.

       “I think you are right.” concurred Seun. “We really need to do something about this.” he said, paused. “And very fast.”

       “Thank God you are now reasoning with me.” Biodun appreciated.

       “But,” quoth Seun. “How do we go about it?”

       “Don’t worry,” replied Mr. Biodun. “I think I have a solution.”

       “You do…?”

       “Yes.”

       “So…?”

       “I will get back to you first thing tomorrow morning.” responded Biodun.

         It was that following morning he promised to return to Seun’s house that the latter was struck by the thunderstorm. He actually made it to his house at the early hours of the day as pledged, only to meet his corpse on the tiled floor surrounded by his wife (Titi) and children who were hit off-balance.

        On that fateful day being Sunday, Mr. Seun’s remains were deposited in a nearby morgue. Owing to the mysterious nature that surrounded his eternal departure, everyone far and near – including his immediate family – seemed to be convinced that he was really the brain behind the various misfortunes that befell the Adegoke family. In view of this, upon the directive of Mr. Biodun who was now the only surviving elderly man in the family, the corpse was seemingly forgotten in the morgue.

        Worse still, no money was further deposited to sustain the required embalmment, thus the dead body wasn’t given the due attention it deserved. The wife of the deceased, Titi who would have done so was persuaded by her in-laws to stay away from the corpse until the necessary traditional rites have been conducted. Four months had passed, yet no one could say what the corpse’s fate entailed.

        Two weeks down the line, something terrible but revealing transpired; Mr. Biodun Adegoke was struck by thunderstorm right in his wretched sitting room. Before he gave up the ghost, he confessed to his wife and six children coupled with other members of the extended family that rushed to the scene, that he was solely responsible for all the evil occurrences in the family. According to him, he was the one who projected the thunderstorm that killed Seun so that everyone would believe he (Seun) was the brain behind the misfortunes as he (Biodun) had falsely alleged.

        Thereafter, Mr. Biodun’s remains were thrown to the evil forest whilst Mr. Seun’s were eventually given a befitting burial by the family.

 

FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
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