By Kayode Taiwo Olla
I don’t know why I’m writing this – because I don’t know how you will get to read this someday. Maybe I’m just writing it for myself – or maybe for someone, I don’t really know. But it feels so better, at least.
Maybe someone – or maybe an angel of God – will take this to you one day. Maybe… soon. Before we are finally killed – or sold, daddy.
But Daddy, they said the government is coming to rescue us – ko? This Sheikau tells us the current news. Maybe to mock us – or maybe the government. He told us, Daddy, that our president does not have a clue; and that our army soldiers are working for him. Daddy is it really true? There are many questions I want to ask, but I don’t know where to start.
I’m sneaking under my cover cloth to write this, Daddy. I am praying I’m lucky enough till the end of this letter – I might be killed if I’m caught – maybe!
Daddy, was it true that the group protesting for our release were disturbed by President Jonathan’s people? Daddy was it true? Was it true that the government disturbed Mama Oby Ezekwesili from going abroad with an aeroplane – to talk about our issue? Daddy, are they really true? And who are really behind this Boko Haram people? Daddy, who?
I don’t even know dates now, Daddy; everyday looks alike. I don’t know what today is, even. Or tomorrow – and what will be then.
And many weeks ago somebody came from the government; he told us his name is Ahmad Salika and that he grew up in Borno state, too. He said he works as a journalist but he came from the government to talk about our release with Sheikau. Sheikau said he agreed. He went back peacefully and we were thinking we would be released the following day. Daddy, why did they not release us till today?!
Daddy, they rape us like we are adults; like we are prostitutes! I even feel they should just kill us! They came to me yesterday – yesterday midnight daddy, and two men raped me in a row! Amina my close friend in class had contacted a disease now and is sick; maybe they will send her home soon too – like they had sent some home. I pretended I was sick, but they beat me even.
Ah, I curse Sheikau; I curse all of them! I curse everyone connected with this! May the Almighty God never pardon their sins and hasten their doom! May they die a shameful, painful and slow death, all of them! May their lives be hell on earth and in the grave. May they never be granted entrance into Paradise in the end! Aargh, I hate them! Argh, may everyone of them… Ah I’m finished!! One of them is comi