The Agony of the Woman
Oppressed
Eturuvie Erebor
I was locked up in the cell, awaiting a chance to call
my family. I was a woman oppressed and in agony.
I had been wronged and I wanted justice! But soon
I had to put aside my plight as another woman was
violently thrown inside the already crowded cell.
As she entered she began to wail. The aggressive
barbaric women closed in on her ready to tear her
to pieces.
“Why are you here?!” They demanded in tones that
revealed they could not wait to pounce on her and
start beating her.
As I watch quietly from a corner, I prayed silently
that they would not beat her. I could not bear to
watch it. I wasn’t sure what satisfaction they derived
from it, but it was inhumane and animalistic as far
as I was concerned.
The poor thing was still crying so she could not
reply audibly at first and then the lady who was
the president of the cell shouted at her to speak up.
Now, she was really frightened and wiped her eyes.
“I am not a criminal.” She began.
I did not doubt it. I was not a criminal but here I
was, my only offense being that I was poor. I felt
sure that was her only offense too.
“So why are you here?!” They demanded to
know.
“I went to my shop and when
I returned, my two sons,
were not at home. The
neighbours informed
me that while I was
away, my sons had gone
to the house next door
belonging to a wealthy
chief to pluck mangoes
from his tree. The chief
asked that they be detained,
and he called the police to
come and take them away to
the police station. I was told they were brought here
to Ekpan police station and I immediately rushed
here. When I arrived, I saw them behind the desk. I
told the policeman on duty that I was their mother,
and he said they had been waiting for me and he
opened the cell and threw me in.”
“How old are your children?” The president of the
cell asked.
“Six and seven years old.” The woman replied and
burst into tears.
The president of the cell must have sympathised
with her because no one touched her, rather they
entered a debate on the evil chief who ordered the
arrest of little children and the equally evil police
who had obviously had taken a bribe to arrest the
children and throw their mother in the cell.
As I sat in silence and watched and listened, it
occurred to me for the first time that my being in
the cell was not about me. God had allowed me
to be detained so I could experience first-hand
the plight of the poor voiceless woman in
Nigeria which is perhaps
like those experienced
by women in most
developing nations
of the world.
The objective of
The Nengi Project
is to be a voice to
women who are
oppressed not just
in Africa but in
every part of the
world by exposing
the act and the
perpetrator(s).
DOZ Magazine March 2018
7
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