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Sunday, 17 September 2017

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
_____________________________________

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Monday, 11 September 2017

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 30th 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
________________________________

Twitter: @mediambassador
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Sunday, 10 September 2017

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

      

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