THEMIS: UNBRIDLED
My name is Adenrele Kuponiyi. I was born in the city of Ibadan into an average family, at least we could eat twice a day and mum could buy us second-hand clothes from Alesinloye market. I have four siblings; my Dad is late, he died in 2020 during the coronavirus pandemic. He worked as a lab scientist at the Oluyoro Catholic Hospital, Ibadan. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve to die; he got the disease from the samples he tested, the hospital could not afford to provide them PPE. Someway, he got the disease and died in his sleep without showing symptoms; he was later diagnosed after his death. He was a devout Christian too, we attended the Christ Apostolic Church and he was a deacon. He never missed church and he’d wake us up every morning by 6 am with his bell ringing unendingly until we all assembled in our parlour then he will raise his voice and sing;
“Wa si adura owuro,
Kunle ka gbadura,
Adura ni opa Kristeni,
Lati ba Olorun rin”
That was the song I sang in my head on the morning of the incident as I walked briskly to our junction to get the N300 Oluwalogbon bread that we wanted to use to eat the beans mum was cooking two weeks after dad’s death.
I was almost at Mummy Ibrahim’s stand when everybody started running. I was confused as the sirens kept blowing up, I made to run too but I guess I was a bit late to make my decision. The policeman hit me with the butt of his gun and I slipped into darkness. When I woke up, I was in chains, both my hands and legs. Big houseflies danced over my head, I later realized they were trying to feast on the wound I sustained during my arrest. I was never interrogated, they didn’t even listen to my appeal to allow me to call my mother. The next day, I was moved from my cell into a black van with other prisoners to a prison I later found out to be in the northern part of the country. I was moved to another prison three years later in the southeastern part of Nigeria, it was there I met Mayowa, we became buddies and one day, he told me how he got into prison, people hardly share this story but he told me that night, in the stillness of darkness in our cell with the rats feasting on whatever was in the room and making sounds that I had become accustomed to. He told me the story — I could hear my heart beating loudly, it was the only sound I heard in the room, every other sound faded away even Mayowa’s voice, with my mouth dry of its lubricant I asked him in a faint voice and he answered in the affirmative. I laid back on my mattress which was no different from the floor and I cried. On the 14th of August 2020, I was arrested for a crime I never committed. According to Mayowa, a guy was arrested from my street and used to replace the son of a renowned politician for the rape and murder of a young lady in that same area. Mayowa was his accomplice, no one could help him because he came from a poor background. I kept it to myself and never told Mayowa.
My belief in God was still strong and I attended religious activities in prison. On the 4th of June 2025, during one of our religious activities organised by the Christian Church of the Saved, I spoke with the wife of the pastor and with tears in my eyes I told her my ordeal. She promised to find help; she collected my mum’s phone number and left. She kept to her words. Two months later, she got me a lawyer, the dark clouds were finally moving and it seemed the day would be bright again. I spoke to my mother and siblings on phone, they were very happy to finally hear from me after losing hope of ever finding me and the lawyer with other human rights activists was able to secure my release. I was so happy and while I had my head shaved with a blade, I caught myself smiling a lot as I was hoping to see my family on Saturday — they would be waiting for me outside the prison gate. Today is Friday, it is 5 pm as I conclude this. I write this because I overheard the prison ward arguing with someone, “make we end this guy, we go tok say na mistake, if that boy comot, he go cast us say we dey sell kidney and body part for here” if you receive this, that means I was murdered……..
© Ojo O.O
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
