IS IT A SIN?? (Trauma) Episode5 |by Olamilekan Afolabi - Abiodun Lambaba Blog



Wednesday, 16 January 2019

IS IT A SIN?? (Trauma) Episode5 |by Olamilekan Afolabi

(Next day)
We embarked on the journey to Lagos. The Slave Dealer rode on his beautiful white horse, we (slaves) were plodding heavily, and his guards were trampling professionally with a very long whip on each of the guards hand, they were beating us as if we stole something costly and expensive from our boss (the slave trader), despite the fact that we are plodding and leaden heavily, different goods were backpacked on our backs like that of a camel or donkey, the guards were still insinuating that we are not walking fast as expected despite the heavy loads they loaded on our backs. We (slaves) were walking bare-footed on the hot land. We (slaves) were sweating and panting intemperately, we (slaves) were very tired and hungry but we dare not jazz, cackle, talk or soliloquize, if anyone does, such person has meet his/her doom.
(Fifteen days later)
We got to Lagos; we are totally exhausted because of the long journey, during our journey we would trek for days without food and water, my body is full of marks from whips/cane from the guard’s. The riches parable that says “the God that create the riches is different from the God that create the poor/slaves.” Getting to Lagos is another dimension of my agony. There I believed that slaves are meant to be anguished and grieved. Slaves are meant to work for their master till death. Slaves work hard for their masters without acquiring any income rather suffering and agony. Slaves’ lessons class only taught all sorts of immoral attitudes like Killing, Stealing, Kidnapping, Drug Trafficking and all other sort of immoral attitudes. In conclusion, slavery must be conclude to be Human Trafficking, Child Abuse and I think this has to stop………
(Two weeks later)
I am working on a field, looking lean and malnutritious, I am now the image of my own self, I am very sick but Slave are not meant to be sick or weak, because their days are already numbered, this is according to one of their rules. On that very day, a slave’s distributor came to the slaves market; she bought me and pays my fee to the slave dealer. I was clothed, she commands me to enter her car and I did as instructed, she zooms out of the slave’s market. “God, what will be my fate now, where is she transporting me to, ah! God! Why is my life stumbling from one misfortune to another, maybe this one is a kidnapper or ritualist, will I be turned into money just like that? God, why does my life seem to be this traumatic? After the death of my parent, I don’t have peace any longer. God! If I have gone against your wishes, forgive me oh lord, and if it is my parent that has pique your laws that may be the cause of this my suffering, Oh lord! Please forgive their soul and also see me through all this nisus, pains and traumas. I cogitate/thought, wholly heart-weeping.
(Few minutes later)
The slave distributor zoom into a mighty building, the building was very beautiful and well decorated; the building was surrounded by a monolithic coop big enough to be mistaken for the Presidential Villa/Aso Rock. The whole building was painted white and powder blue, from the gate toward the house laid a fully adorned field with a well cultivated and mowed grass on the right and left flank leaving a small passage but broad enough to contain a moving vehicle. The house was a duplex with twelve rooms on the upper floor and a wide sitting room down stair to greet any visitor. Also, the sitting room contained three toilets situated at the left side of the sitting room if turned 300 with a dining big enough to build a bedroom, build in a corner somewhere in the sitting room. Hi-sense flat screen stayed glued to the wall facing the entrance with a well arranged set of home theatre sitting consciously on the floor below the flat screen. The building is extremely beautiful and can be said to be the perfect personification of mighty.
We are warmly welcomed by a beautiful woman, dressed in an elegant pink gown, her appearance have shown that she is dwelling in money. The woman offers each of us (The slave distributor and I) a glass of 5 Alive juice. The slave trader addresses the rich woman to me as Mrs. Chioma by name and I will be her housemaid. I greeted Mrs. Chioma respectfully; she answered my greeting with utmost humility.
“My friend, I will be traveling to Dubai tomorrow, and I will return in no specific date for now. And as for this one (pointing to me) you own her, you can kill her if you like, she is a slave, just pay her fee that is all” The slave distributor counterblasted.
Mrs. Chioma sees off the slave distributor. I sat down in the sitting room watching a cartoon shown on the TV. Mrs. Chioma came back looking elegant and gorgeous as usual.
“You what is your name?” Mrs. Chioma asked.
“N….n.e…….na.” I replied stammering.
“Welcome to my territory” Mrs. Chioma said laughing as she opts for her bedroom.
I was baffled by her last statement, “welcome to my territory” that statement re-echoed in my ears, I don’t know what her reaction meant. Many thoughts ran through my innocent mind but I couldn’t fathom exactly what her sentence meant, but I prayed it mean good.
What do you think will happen next?
(Light out)
To be continues

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