THE LAST STAND
Chapter 1
"ARISE O' COMPATRIOTS", Charles, a fair skinned guy who was in Lagos for his national youth service, started our own version of the national anthem. "THE YOUTH'S CALL MUST THE NATION OBEY!", We responded, our voices so energetic that our chants rent the air for miles.
It was the fifth day of our peaceful #EndSars protest, and we were all determined to stamp and trample on all forms of injustice meted out by the police force.
It all started when Chike,Mama Nkechi's son who came home from overseas to spend time with his family was accosted and rough handled by gunmen who claimed to be members of the special anti-robbery squad. His suffering knew no limits when they found out his phone had a dollar payment app installed on it with recent transactions in the history log. All his pleas and explanations on how he just got back into the country fell on deaf ears as he was bundled into the car and taken to their station.
After two days, a swollen-eyed Chike came back home after being let out on a bail of two hundred thousand naira and a strong warning, "No dey frown when you see us, just do normal and give us out of the money wey una collect, Life na chop make I chop".
A pot bellied man who had the label DPO pinned to a shirt-which was too small for his body had said the next ordeal was of Tunde who literally wiped his account clean so he could purchase an iphone 6s and became the next big thing on Fayemi street. 'Fake it till you make it' was the slogan with Tunde and he made it a point of duty to always shine no matter what. Tunde was swaggering as usual with his head up high, hands in pocket and loud hip hop bursting into his ear drums with an ear pod that ceased to work whenever it was night time, anyways na doings, hot cake all the same-make bad belle commot body jor.
Tunde was in high spirits till his triumphant journey was cut short when he ran into four tough looking guys with emotionless expression at Shedibala junction. A quick glance at them, they looked more or less political thugs;rough hair,dirty and worn out clothes with AK-47 rifles cradled in their arms. The only thing that destroyed his theory was the red jacket they had on their outfit, it had the acronym-SARS printed on it.Tunde made to get past them without incurring their wrath when one of them called out in pidgin "HOLLANDIA!! O Boy wetin you carry?" moving swiftly as he called out to where a dazed Tunde stood, "Una wan run before abi? "Another one queried while the third guy whistled "He get contraband for load, see him face now, him be correct OG, abi wetin you think Legba?".
The fourth guy, Legba, was a huge dark skinned guy with deep tribal marks and a broken nose who didn't have much interest in idle talks. He sure looked like a twenty seven year old guy who had fallen on tough times and only joined the force to find his way out of poverty. He took a deep long puff from his cigarette and flexed his muscles. He was more like the commando of the group, less talk-more action. Tunde was dragged into the middle of the group where he was frisked and interrogated.
Series of questions flew in at once; "How much you buy this phone?", "You sabi how this ear pod cost reach?", "Shey na dating you dey do abi celeb?", "Na UK site you dey bomb abi US??", "How much una maye dey send give you weekly?". "O boy, no dey disguise, come unlock this your phone", the third guy said handing over the phone to Tunde who unlocked it as fast as his shaky hands would let him. "You think say you smart abi? If you like go hide everything we go find am" the first guy threatened. Legba licked his lips revealing a tobacco stained dentition in the process.His eyes looked hungry and wild.Things were definitely getting interesting.
"No be Don Moen songs i dey see so?" The third guy paused in awe before he recovered and continued "where you hide your tools? Where the money for your aza". The annoyance in his voice didn't go unnoticed as he was getting furious with each passing minute. "Sir...sir there are no tools--I swear to God, I'm just a student, I don't know what you're talking about", Tunde stammered trying to find the right words to calm the troubled waters. "I am not-....", the rest of his sentence was cut short by a deafening slap on his cheeks as Legba stepped in. This was Legba's event, if there was anything he knew how to do best, it was beating his victims into confession both for deeds they were responsible for and those they were not. The beating began, at first it was just fists from the members of the SARS,then it gradated to boots and then to rifle butts. When they were done, Tunde was a total mess.
"Una papa!!" Legba retorted, "Una no get money you dey use iPhone, who you wan impress?God punish you". A crowd had already gathered watching silently as the commotion ensued, "Make I no see you for this road again o", the second guy shouted in a high pitched voice as a badly beaten Tunde scampered away.
Tunde,the only child of his parents, spent two weeks at the hospital after the incident. That was the last straw that broke the camel's back, two occurrences in less than a week!
We decided to do more than just watch, more than our social media hashtags and tweets could do for us, we had to step out there and do some real solid work. WE were going to protest against bad governance and police brutality one last final time.
