Wednesday, 2 July 2014

Agony from Sambisa Forest




I woke up that morning, unsure of what the day holds for us, but certain of one thing, that the WAEC examination is still ongoing, I got dressed and bid farewell to my folks, unknown it was the last time I will ever set my eyes on them, that I and many other girls will become the victim of the evil lurking round the noon.
We filed into the examination hall, waiting for our question papers and answer booklets to be distributed to all the candidates. Amidst the examination jittery, I heard several gunshots, there was great pandemonium, students and teachers scampering.
I heard a crusty voice from a megaphone, we were commanded to lay down wherever we were, which we obediently obeyed, I was scared to my skin and suddenly blacked out.
The operations lasted for hours, I was revived and ushered into a waiting sport utility vehicle and sandwiched among my mates, like cows taken to abattoir, we were driven away. There was great wailing, we cried until we lost our voice. I stopped crying few weeks ago, and told myself probably this is the prize I have to pay for been a girl child in a country like Nigeria.
It is almost the first semester since we were forcefully adopted from our country, however it seems like eternity. We have become victims of political propaganda, forsaken by a country we call our own, neglected by a government our parents elected. We were carted away like the spoils of war, our adopters in jubilation and chanting victorious songs.
Life in Sambisa has been traumatic, few days after our adoption, our human dignity was forcefully taken away from most of us, freedom of worship which is enshrined in the Nigerian 1999 constitution was taken away, those of us who were Christians were forcefully converted to Islam. We were distributed among our adopters, in hot tears and pain, our dignity is serially violated.  Amidst fear and trepidation we unwillingly submitted our pride to our captors. Daily I feel awfully lonely, and I have become an outcast. Sleep has become an enemy, I stay up late every night escaping into the wonderland of mystery that contains broken fragments of my dreams. Tears and sore is salty, I long to return home if help will ever come before my last breath.
Let me leave now, you will hear from me soon, if I am still alive.
With pain from Sambisa.

By
Onyibe Oliver.

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