SíSí

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I could hear the faint click of my heels on the cobblestones by the grimy streets of Lagos. This time of the night was when the beauty of this city was unsheathed, a little less busy but the reverberating noise was present. I swing my arms closer to my face to check the time, it was a few minutes past 8, my phone was off. I could blame that on the lack of power supply and my car had met its maker or rather a substitute, the poorly maintained roads could take responsibility. I drove into a pothole half my size.

My destination wasn't far from reach. I could hear Mallam Ahmed's speaker booming his favourite playlist and the faint sizzle of grilled meat. The smell was unmistakeable, a knowledge imprinted in the DNA of many, hmmm Suya, the savoury scent was a delight. I had wandered too far in my thought that I didn't acknowledge the visitors few feets from me. Of course I expected I wouldn't be the only pedestrian and the street was brisk with traders closing trades for the day, active bars and motorcyclists with five lives. But I couldn't ignore the blaring alarm in my head and my mother's words of caution, I increased my pace and went from strutting to a mild jog. They imitated my pace and covered the distance quicker than I, my heart had started to race and I was jolted with unpleasant thoughts at the moment.

I turn to take a quick look at the seemingly impending danger but they stare at me head on and one offers a smile while the other just glares. Maybe I am over thinking this, I can be a paranoid mess sometimes and they might just be heading towards the same direction as I. Just a turn to the left and I would be few meters from home and Mallam Ahmed's suya, I should be safe.
" Hey na fine girl slow down, na talk we wan talk"a voice  from behind said accompanied by a snicker, by this time the alarm in my head had gone from blaring to full alarm explosion. I was now full on joggin and my adrenaline was helping my poorly equipped stamina and Cardio.

"Baby slow down na"

" wetin dey do dis one sef" that was the last I heard before I was forcefully dragged to an halt and immediately I let out an ear piercing scream. You couldn't fault  me,I was a screamer and at impulse the slightest scare could activate my banshee mode. My scream was suddenly muffled by a calloused hand and it assault on my lips was nauseous. Its owner wore a playful grin and a smug look of satisfaction adorned his face,closer he didn't look quite like the stereotypical facial labelled criminal who spot war lord scars and reeked of booze and cheap drugs. He looked every inch of ordinary a man could, his face was calm but his intentions spelled ominous.
The other unfurled the knife he was wielding and careful not to draw attention to us, they began to edge me towards the darkest end of the street.

Jesus was I being robbed. The stream of tears that has began to pool in my eye unleashed and backed up by hiccups. I began to plead with my eye and hands handing over my bag and phone, I begged for him to let go. They both shared a look and stifled a laugh.

"See as  you fine package like this, haba how we wan rob fine girl like you"
His other hand had began to roam my body, he squeezed the dip of my waist and attempted a caress lovers should share. My eye popped out of its sockets as a shiver ran down my spine. He made his intentions known in a not-so-subtle manner.

"Sheybi we dey call you, you dey do shakara con dey run abi"
I scanned the street for help, the darkness was caving in and the absence of streetlights was playing accomplice. I was terrified, the knife wielder grazed my skin with his knife communicating a warning of noncompliance while the other battled with his zipper. My pleads were muffled my hands were up and begging and my action earned me a swift backlash across my face. 

I prayed, I chanted  prayers so loud in my head I was hit with a migraine. Being a female I had lived with the fear of being objectified, abused,molested simply because I posses a different gender quality. I swear my skirt was below my knees, my blouse a little too loose,the aim was to look less appealing. The society would scrutinize me for luring the men to action that I should know better not to practice the art of seduction, my existence was seducing maybe. I was talked about with such levity like my body was their right,I owed it to them to be.

But to hell with it, it was not the clothes, it was not the sway of my hip or the fluidity of my breasts. Children were subjected to this too,adolescent who just struck puberty were victims too. They trained us to abstain, to avoid being appealing to the man that we would trouble their zippers, and we complied and yet these men would call us names, belittle us with their tongues, touch us at the slightest opening. We were living sexual objects ready for use disregarding age,stature, height or weight.
I heard the unbuckle of his belt as he instructed the other to hold me firm so I wouldn't struggle at much.

" Shhh!! No dey do like say you no like am"
"Abi you be virgin Mary"
" Na quick quick " he said as he struggle to bring out the tool of my demise. I saw hell before I felt it. My pilgrim to shame had begun. What would they say?,the street headline for the week. 

"Hey hey hey"  someone yelled to the attention of the men, it was followed by many others charging forward to see to my release. Attention had now being drawn towards the men who immediately discarded me and fled, one with a dangling jean kissing his knees and the other shrouded in the darkness ahead. 

Steadying my breath and urging my mind to stay conscious, I looked up to thank my saviour and meet Mallam Ahmed who explained he has come out the corner to look for his Cat who strayed away before he noticed the scene. An older woman helped me maintain the balance with the ground I solely needed as she asked if I need water and if I had someone to contact close by. Mallam Ahmed had gone to back to his Suya, the lady was talking animatedly to my mum on my phone, I was begging for darkness to swallow me whole.








A call to end  rape culture and abuse against women

We own our body

We are not yours

We are not your BDSM fantasy

Consent! Consent!! Consent!!!

Stop rape culture noww

#Justiceforuwaandtina

#Stoprapeculturenoww

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