the nail that sticks up
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Weird Red
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the nail that sticks up
“A MURDRESS LIKE NO OTHER”
That was what the leadership front headlines screamed at readers. Martins Caroline barely had time to read the news before her phone rings. She picked the call and uhed and ahed before racing back to the NIJ building to see her supervisor. At the corner before the office of Dr. Badeji, she collided with a secretary sending the poor woman sprawling on the floor. Helping her up, Carol mumbled an apology that was rather insufficient. Two minutes later, she was standing short of breath in front of the bespectacled man who holds her future in his hands.
Dr. Badeji looked at the petite lady in front of him with mild pity, mild scorn and mild admiration. She might not graduate with her peers and that is a source of concern for him. Carol had been one with a rather adventurous spirit and a nose for extraordinary news story. That had been her cause of failure here. Her news is too big for a single coverage and involves research time that the school cannot give. Now either she gets a news that will turn heads or she gets an extra year.
“sit down” he said gravely.
Carol sat at the edge of the chair. She knew what was coming but that did not still make her comfortable. Here is her favourite lecturer and he might want to cushion the blow. she decided to make it easier for him.
“I am not graduating. I know”. She was shocked at the tremble she heard in her voice.
“says who”
“I just know”
“There might still be a chance…” Carol’s head jerked up “…if you get that one in a thousand story”. They made eye contact, challenge in one pair of eyes and fear in the other. After an impregnable silence, she asked “how long do I have?”
“three months” and that was it. She had an assignment that will help her graduate, put her in the lime light or spoil her career before it even has the chance to take off. She walked out of the office after thanking Dr. Badeji. The paper was still where she had left it. He picked it and the headline accosted her again. Ordering a coffee from the cycling vendor, she settled to read the story.
On the morning of Wednesday, 12th of august 1997, Korede Abiodun allegedly shot to death two notable chiefs and injured three labourers over a land dispute on the said land. Eye witnesses claimed that she and her mother had gone to their land to find workers and the chiefs supervising them. Challenging them, the chiefs had ordered the workers to continue their work and laughed in the faces of Korede and her mother. Korede who ‘rolled’ with the boys of the neighbourhood was infuriated at the wicked treatment and challenged the chiefs to their outrage. According to a source who wishes anonymity, the chiefs asked the labourers to grab Korede only to have her frail mother step in. one of the chiefs shoved the woman roughly to the ground and she held on to his white agbada. After that, the chief proceeded to deal slaps on Korede’s mother. Meanwhile the labourers moved to grab Korede when she drew a gun. She went mad after she saw her mother on the ground clutching with all her strength the agbada of her oppressor. She fired at the chief and the second chief who tried to wrestle the gun from her took a hit also in the stomach. By this tme, Korede was more than trigger happy and fired another shot at the labourer who tried to bully her mother, helping the dying chief. The police arrived shortly with ambulance which conveyed the bodies and injured ones to the hospital and morgue. Korede is now being held in Panti for questioning. She is set to appear in court for arraignment in a fortnight. She has refused to give comment or see anyone.
By the time Carol finished, she was thinking how sensational the story is and how much publicity its attracting. She decided to do a bit of digging herself. The community is somewhere in the ifelodun local government close to her aunt’s place. “time to visit aunty Philomena” she thought.
***
Philomena Akande and her husband and three adolescent children lived in the northern part of the Ifelodun local government. Their house was a moderate three-bedroom flat befitting civil servants who combine trading with the government income. Dinner was rice and beans with spinach vegetable. The family had just started dinner when the chimes of the door-bell was heard. Caleb the second child jumped up to check. He’s a restless boy. The shout of Big C made the other two children Mortdecai and Esther dash to the gate to meet their favourite cousin. All of them sauntered in with the three kids holding at least a part of Caroline. Carol greeted her aunt and her uncle Matt. The warm response and the look of admiration from her younger cousin’s face made her feel comfortable that she is home. Dispensed with greetings, Philomena served her niece enough food to feed at least two hungry kids claiming that “you are getting more skinny”. Caleb and Esther abandoned their food to eat with their big cousin.
The children in bed, the uncle plopped comfortably on the sofa in front of the television watching news, Philo and Carol got talking. Philo loved this child like her own. Her own elder sister had trained her and help set her up after their parent’s death only for her to die at the birth of this amazing child. Philo was ready to raise her but she did not see eye to eye with her brother-in-law and so had to content herself with term holidays and birthdays. her reaction to the assignment Carol is embarking on was expected and so Caro set top putting her mind to rest. The following day, Carol went to the community and got lucky when she asked a bread seller by the side of the road the address of Korede.
“you mean the house of Iya-Ibeta (Mother of triplets)?” the bread-seller quipped
“er..”
“just go front small, you go see one green house near one very tall palm tree. They write KKK for the front”
The house was difficult to miss, because it was but a smouldering ruin with the ashes still hot and near the ‘one very tall palm tree’ as described. Carol brought out her camera and was snapping away when she was tapped on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was looking at the button of a police uniform. She stepped back and raised her head to see the face of the six feet person.
“Who are you?” the policeman asked.
“I am a press person and I am investigating the murder crime” The snort of the police was a huge slap to her profession but she was undaunted. “what” she continued “can you tell me?”
“Nothing other than the fact that it is arson”
“whom can I talk to?” she persisted. Something in her voice made the policeman look at her again. “I think you should talk to Ade” he glanced at her again. I was going there. “You can come along if you don’t mind” Carol followed despite not knowing who ‘Ade’ is or where ‘there’ means. She was following her instinct now. They walked for fifteen minutes before arriving at a building popularly referred to as ‘face me I slap you’ due to the fact that one tenant’s entrance is directly facing the entrance of another’s. they entered the third room by the left and were met by a young man in a three-quarter short and black singlet, a lady with a scar running from her ear to her mouth and a fragile looking woman whom Carol soon learned was Iya Ibeta, the mother of Korede. “ this is..” inspector looked at Carol for her name “caroline” she said “and she is a journalist. She wants to talk to you.” The scarred lady and the other guy shared a look and the guy gave an almost imperceptible nod before they introduced themselves.
“I am Ade and this is my girlfriend, Ola. We are K’s friends” Ola took over and introduced Iya Ibeta. The next one hour produced a most touching story amidst tears on the old woman’s side and threat on the couple’s side. Carol was able to capture all that on her midget. She was basically able to retrieve that since Korede’s father’s death, a couple of years ago, the two chiefs who were supposedly his friend then claimed falsely that the late man had sold them the land and they choose to claim it. Iya ibeta meanwhile had been told shortly before her husband’s death the duo wanted to force him to sell his land and that he doesn’t want to. The matter eventually got to the local head of Ifelodun, the bale who ruled in the favour of the two chiefs despite the documents presented by the Abioduns. Korede vowed to hold on to her father’s land irrespective of any ruling. What followed was more of an elaborate version of the paper story. Mrs. Abiodun claimed that her daughter shot to protect her and burst into tears when recounting how she found her 100-year-old house on fire, an obvious act of vengeance. She claimed the police did not even mount a worthy investigation nor did they make any arrest despite the fact that every finger is pointing to the household of chief Alabi. She has been putting up with her daughter’s friends because suddenly she found herself without friends. Tentatively, carol asked about the other children, after all, Korede is one of triplet. She was told that Kayode was sickly at birth and died at the age of nine while Kolade is in the north crippled from an earlier accident and is struggling to make ends meet. He could not come home for his father’s burial in fact. The couple saw her off the road after they eagerly gave Carol permission to visit her in jail if she chooses to see her because she would not even see her mother.
There was no light when carol got home at her aunt’s place. She plugged her phone to her reliable power-bank and powered her computer system. “Thank God, it’s on 75%” she wrote her first paragraph and had to rewrite and rewrite again and again till she felt it was perfect enough. The words soon flowed. thankfully, Mrs Abiodun did not object to photograph. Afterwards, she called her old editor where she did her internship and told him that she’d like to do exclusive cover of the crime. He was reluctant but soften up considerably when she told him that any pay is at his discretion and she is coming from the angle of the family and accused. All her attempt to talk to the family of the late chiefs were thwarted and the injured labourer was not of much help in relaying info. His picture was a good addition to her collection though. By the time her aunt was back with her kids, Carol was sprawled carelessly on the bed asleep with the computer dead and the ominous blue light of the power bank emphasizing the gloom that comes with evening and power failure. Aunty Philo covered her with blanket while Esther fell into bed with her and snuggled to her.
At dinner, Caleb asked out of the blue:
“Big C, are you going out tomorrow”
“yes”
“What time?”
“I don’t know yet. Why do you want to know?”
He nudged Mortdecai who took over “we’d like you to take us to school”
“yes, yes please” Esther pleaded and in her excitement nudged the jug of water over wetting everybody. Uncle Matt looked sternly at her and she hung her head. She was silent until her Big C consoled her with the promise of giving her a facial make-up and chocolate ice-cream by weekend. Dinner ended with the family watching a comic soap opera.
“The house was always boring especially when mother was not around, the street was always lively and had lots to offer especially what one least expects and so the street guys are always ‘ready’ but jail is something totally different” these were the thoughts running through Korede’s mind when a police woman called her name: “Korede Abiodun” she pronounced the name with much emphasis on the consonants as the Igbo people are wont to do. “you have a visitor” she finished rather impatiently. Korede knew the cause of her irritation. She had refused to meet anyone and the young lady corporal had burnt the brunt of errand lady. To rile her further, she asked: “who?”. Corporal glared at her over the see through iron bars and mention something vaguely about a reporter. Like always, Korede declined and smiled wistfully wondering how the world out sees her. She had no regrets killing the misogyny bastards who wanted to dupe her of her father’s property. The pigs even had the guts to raise hand at mother. “I’d kill them again…”. The loud voice of the corporal interrupted her thoughts again. She was beginning to get angry. Thrusting a piece of paper through the bar at her, the corporal said “here, this is for you”. After Korede collected it from her and inserted it into her pocket, she snapped “the nosy reporter is waiting for response” Korede opened the paper and read the badly scrawled writing: Korede, please see me if only for five minutes. I have the blessings of Ade, Ola and mother. I’m here for your part of the story. The reference to mother made Korede’s eyes water and she turned away in embarrassment. “I’ll see him” she moved. “it’s her”, corporal said as she opened the door with a key from the key ring in her pocket. The corridor used to be white but now it was dirty grey and so was the other part of the building that had disintegrated from lack of maintenance. Korede was soon seated in front of a petite woman with a fixed curly hair recently done. A female definitely. Carol looked at the beautiful lady in front of her, who had killed and maimed, but who at the same time conveys the feeling of someone you would want to have on your side. She liked her instantly and thus decided to be straight with her.
“my name is Caroline Martins and I am a final year student at the Nigerian institute of journalism. I saw your story and I’m here to hear your side of the story and report the accurate events.” She paused and when no response was forthcoming, she continued “I have to be candid. As much as I can relate with what you did and perhaps why you did it, I am on the fence and cannot say that I am on your side. There it is. What do you say?”
“impressive. First, how is mother?”
“you prefer straight talk and so I assume we can be blunt…”
“yes, we can. So answer.”
“she really is down and sad.”
“what else can you tell me?”
“your house was burnt down yesterday morning.” Korede visibly slumped on the chair. Anger, pain and distress all passed on her facial expression. Standing up wearily like the news had instantly aged her, she crossed to the other side of the small room, resting her head on the wall, she sobbed quietly; a spasmodic movement of the shoulders and pitiful sounds. She turned back and faced Caroline. “where is she?” on hearing that she is with ‘Ade-Ola’, she smiled sadly and said curtly: “Let us begin”
“tell me about yourself first for background check”
“my name is Korede Abiodun and I was born twenty years ago. I was born a triplet and were named Kolade, Korede and Kayode. My father was a court clerk who earned little and loved his family, while mother has always been a trader. She was rather weak and drew strength from father. At the age of seven, Kayode was diagnosed of leukaemia and he died two years later. Mother was devastated and found solace in me and Kolade. Kolade too was having issues in school and was soon diagnosed of dyslexia, a learning disorder. He quit school at fifteen and went to trade in the north. He had a car accident and became crippled. You know the funny thing, he impregnated the daughter of the local doctor treating him and so had to get married to her to keep her honour. Dad fought with him and Kola decided on that day to never have anything to do with us again. Mother wept her eyes out as he stormed out of the house pitifully on his crippled feet. I cried too and that was the last I cried until father’s death two years ago. father was poisoned and no inquiry was made” Carol had to cut in here
“who was in charge of the case?”
“don’t be in a hurry. I have all the hard evidence and more” she continued “I turned to the street where I could forget momentarily and also prove myself in the art of defence. I can hold myself against any guy and soon I was accepted into the street fold. Do you know that there is no gender discrimination in the street unlike within the government where we are treated like underlings” Carol felt closer to this woman more and more to her own chagrin.
“Chief Alabi who happens to be the father of the inspector in charge of dad’s poisoning tried to steal my land and even laid his meaty hands on my mother with his side kick, Chief Alao. Thank God I was with my ‘stick’.”
“So,,,” Carol prompted
“I did them” she said with a tone of finality. The background info given, Caroline then took Korede back to reveal in details what she had just said. They got to the point of Kayode’s death and Korede’s silences were getting longer, to avoid crying Carol thought. The corporal was also already patrolling the corridor. Pressing the stop button on the tape, carol round off the session and promised to return in two days and with help. Korede was shocked and rigid when Carol quite naturally threw her arms round her for a brief but tight hug.
She left for home, picked the kids at school, fed and bathed them, set them in front of their home work, she focused on her writing and two hours later and quelling a fight between Mortdecai and Caleb, she was done and she sent the first of her column to her editor for the next day paper. The editor called her back barely one hour later to express his delight at the story. He only managed to correct one typo and that was that. For dinner that night, Uncle Matt took them all out. “Uncle, I know it is going to be a sudden but, will you consider representing…” Carol was interrupted by her aunt Philo “Korede?” she shared a look with her husband before stating matter-of-factly that “let me let you guys discuss” and marched into the master bedroom. Two hours later, Uncle Matt and Niece Carol finalised that Uncle Matt who is a lawyer albeit an intellectual property one will represent Korede and they will meet with her in two days. By then it was past one a.m. and Carol slept off immediately her head touched the pillow.
The phone ringtone was like an earthquake to the still very much asleep carol and her hand shot out to quiten it. She missed it and punched her laptop charger to the floor from the bedside table. The phone refused to stop ringing and so, searching with her left arm while the right cushion her sleeping head, she located the phone and picked the call. The booming voice of her supervisor wipped every trace of sleep off her face and she sat up so suddenly that she felt dizzy for a couple of seconds. “Dr. Badeji, Morning sir”
“Morning my dear, congratulations”
“congratulations? What? I don’t get you”
He asked: “Have you seen your paper?”
“No” she said as knowledge slowly dawned
“it is the talk of town now. You actually managed to arouse pity for the poor girl. You should have been a lawyer” with that, he broke the connection to attend to other things. Carol on her own went to the kitchen barefooted noting the silence of the empty house as everybody had either gone to work or school. Making herself garri to eat with the ogbono soup she had just heated on the stove, she checked the time. It was past ten and the sun was fully out by now. After a filling meal, she dressed up and went to the last bus-stop before the street to get a newspaper. She got an extra copy for Korede. She returned to the house and settled down to read the article. She smiled all through and was pleased at herself. Checking her phone, she saw loads of instant messages from least expected people; her classmates that might be leaving her behind. She replied those she could and off she went to lala land again right there on the sofa in the sitting room.
Korede was shocked to discover that she was actually eagerly awaiting the return of the small-framed journalist. She reckoned that it is because she is different. Or maybe because she didn’t come across all judgemental like most others she had met. Still reeling from the hug at the end of the last session, she waited in the room for her would-be inquisitor who is already running three minutes behind schedule. There she is with a middle aged man in brown blazer that sat well on his shoulders. They both were ushered in by another police today who happened to be of the sergeant rank. “I’m so sorry Korede. The traffic was bad” she bursted out as she entered.
“I understand” Korede retorted softly, eyes steadily on the male company.
“meet Mr. Mathew. He is a lawyer and he is willing to represent you if you are willing too” turning to Mr. Mathew, she continued “meet Korede, my new friend” Korede flinched at that but masked it well. It didn’t escape the notice of Matt. “why would you represent me, Mr. Matt?
Mathew held her eyes with his and spoke in that soft voice of his, with a slight drawl: “if you are a lawyer and you have family and you also possess a conscience, you would want to represent you, after reading this.” He tossed a newspaper on the table. Korede picked it and read Carol’s column. “this”, she pointed at the story “was out yesterday and you are here today. How?” here, Carol Jumped into the fray “I told him about it already” at Korede’s sharp look, she added “because he is my uncle” the look softened. Carol was willing to excuse them after Korede signed the hire form, but Korede insisted she stayed and listened. As they talked, Carol was continually shocked at the revelations. Korede has documents proving that complaints were made to the police station concerning her father’s homicide, a tape recording of the police making a joke out of it, chief Alabi and Alao’s voices on tape recorder gloating over a drink about the successful elimination of Mr. Abiodun, the certificate of ownership of the land in dispute , her father’s disposition about the plot to force him to sell and enough pictures to indict of twenty policemen, lawyers (her father’s lawyer too who happened to be an old schoolmate of Mathew) and local chiefs in the community). Mathew was given address of a shop where he was to pick the documents. Mathew said he would get it the following day, make copies and return, to which Korede replied: “don’t worry, there are lots of them around” Lagos state better be ready for the coming explosion” said Caroline. She got more facts from the jail inmate and she was soon on her feet with her uncle bidding her farewell after another appointment was made. This time around, Korede was prepared for the hug and though she did not flinch, she did not return the hug.
Carol’s column’s next edition made use of Korede’s picture as she signed her legal form and that of Barrister Mathew when he was in law school. The audiences followed the story with keen interest. Two human activist contacted her, a renowned feminist discussed Korede on her television program, a female writer wants to co-write a book with Carol about Korede. Meanwhile Korede’s trial approaches fast and her mother’s health also was declining fast.
The silence of the panti jail was more oppressive since Carol took a break to go and write her final exams. She missed her mum and she had spoken to her on phone the last time Uncle Matt (he had insisted on the informal title of uncle) had been there. She was not well and Ade and Ola are really trying. She owed those two mightily. It had slowly dawned on her that she might lose her life to the government. She is not afraid to die but she will not die because she is seen as a woman and so cannot stake claim to what belongs to her. If she will die, she intends to go down with lots of people. Carol on her own part, had to leave her aunt’s place to write her exam which lasted for two weeks. Sorely missed by her three cousins, she was called every night and so maintained a semblance of communication with her family. She had submitted already her stories for her weekly columns enough to last the two weeks of her examination. The two ladies both caught in their own world of crime and academics missed each other, more so, as they do not have means of communicating with each other.
***
The trial day arrived so soon, 27th of June amidst a big downpour. It was as if the heavens were already weeping for the accused. The road leading to the Ikeja high court was jammed full and this was made so by the number of the pedestrians, motor vehicles, tri- cycles and motor cycles all struggling to get ahead along the mud splattered road. Carol was able to get there early because she hitched a ride from her uncle who was to appear in court as the defence counsel. Waiting at Moshalashi bus-stop, she had waved to be seen as her uncle’s car had driven past and was lucky he had seen her because she did not call ahead. They said pretty little in the ride to the court, each lost in his own thoughts that seemed to be getting bleaker by the moment. The court was almost filled with cars and Mattthew had to navigate around for ten minutes before he got a corner he slid in. clutching a briefcase and holding Carol’s hand as they dashed inside from the rain, he made the picture of a fugitive on the run. They sat shivering awaiting the jail van that would bring Korede while another court session was in progress inside the court. Local cops that milled around gave them but a cursory glance except a couple who sidled over to say hello to Uncle Matt.
Matt was thinking how disappointed the public would be, because today’s session in court for the ‘amazing murdress’ (that was what they, the public had dubbed her from Carol’s Column) would be extremely short. He hoped so, anyway. He also had a certain immense pride about the accomplishment of his wife’s young niece who was really more like a younger sister to him. He loved and respected her especially her passion for her profession. His children could not have a better elder cousin as it is.
***
She had woken up very early in the morning and was blank. She sat still on the thin Mattress that had been laid on the floor for her. Lot of thoughts coursed through her mind and she was caught in the grip of the mental image of a noose around her neck, a chaplain praying for her forgiveness before the rope jerked her up. At that she felt a shudder passed all over her and she almost fainted. She comforted herself with pictures of the past; her daddy, Kayode’s cheerful smile before he succumbed to his illness. The boy was so sweet that he had given her one of two mangoes he had and the other to Kolade and then smiling benignly with empty hands. The memory brought tears and smile to her eyes; the image of Kolade, as he limped out in annoyance, that cloudy afternoon; mother as she stared long at nothing with eyes that hide years of fears, pains, hurts and griefs. She recalled Ade, her friend who had challenged her at her introduction to the street. He had shoved her back and had pulled her hair so painfully in front of the whole street guys. Korede had slyly, though in pain slipped out a pen knife and with her free left hand, she grabbed his crotch and cut the button of his jean with the knife. The spectators were behind Ade and all they could see was Ade’s slackened hand on the girl’s hair and his groaning in pain just before his button fell to the floor.
“say the word” Korede ordered
“no way” was the grunted response and Korede’s next cut was the jean itself close to Ade’s testicles.
“I surrender” he practically yelled before he was released. They stood there glaring at each other before both admitted simultaneously “that hurts” they walked hand in hand back to the squad and she was accepted becoming friends with Ade who later confessed that he didn’t want to hurt her because he could have exposed her intestines. For that, she was eternally grateful and she had learned everything she could from him including how to shoot.
“It’s Time”. The voice broke her thoughts and she returned back into the dingy cell. She stood up and followed the policeman out to the black Maria that would convey her to the court. Inside, she felt so exposed and mused briefly what chance she had if the family of Chief Alabi decided to ambush them. How right she was, she did not know, for the ambush was planned and in laying the ambush, they were ambushed by Ade led goons who thwarted the ambush, breaking bones and drawing blood but careful not to kill. The black Maria was preceded by two police cars and another car took the rear. The trip was uneventful aside what happened in the black Maria where Korede was being guarded by two young policemen. They looked so naïve and ready to bolt from this ‘amazing murderess’. They had heard tales of her accuracy and her fearless nature. Korede compounded this by singing out Asa’s popular song; Jailer. “I’m in chains, you’re in chains too. I wear uniforms and you were uniforms too. I’m a prisoner, you are a prisoner too, Mr. jailer… they soon arrived at the court which was filled with people. Korede was blinded by lots of flashes from the cameras of journalists. She walked, head raised and not blinking through the chaos. How glad she was to see Uncle Matt, Carol, her mother, Ade and Ola with a bandage on the left arm of Ade. Introduction done, Ade’s answer at Korede’s questioning glance at his arm was: Alabi’s touts planned for your coming to court and we stopped them. Matt and Carol were surprised when Korede went to hug Ade and then Ola. It was a clumsy hug but it was full of affection and gratitude. Korede sat and consoled her mother who was looking so fragile while Matt outlined his plan and that brought a smile to everybody’s face. They filed out into the court, mother sandwiched between Carol and Ola behind the defence table. Ade sat at the back to watch out for any threats. Uncle Matt followed the police who led Korede into her seat. Honourable Festus Ademola entered and everybody rose at the clerk’s “All Rise”
“You may seat”, that from the judge. The clerk then rattled out the case number and the two count charges of capital murder and aggravated assault.
“I am Solomon Ikemefuna, the state lawyer and this is my assistant, Mr. Akin Akinpelu” the prosecution counsel introduced.
“I am Barrister Matthew Akande and the lawyer for the accused”
Judge said: “Prosecution, proceed with your opening statement”
Mr Ikemefuna stood up and received the greatest surprise of a career. “if I may, your honour” from Mr. Matthew.
Mr. Ikemefuna who is known to be an overconfident slob and snub reacted rather foolishly: “no you may not”
“Mr. Ikemefuna” bellowed the Judge “you will comport yourself in my court or I hold you in contempt.
“but your honour, cutting an introduction speech is preposterous and an outright …”
“Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna, shut up and sit down” he settled his massive bulk on the chair looking crestfallen. “Mr. Akande, this better be good” the Judge finished.
Standing and moving towards the judge deliberately planting himself between the prosecution and the accused like a protector, Matthew spoke slowly and clearly into the silence. “I want it on record that I as the defence lawyer am against Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna trying my client.” This drew lots of reaction from many people. The judge was shocked into being still. The prosecution lawyers quickly put head together to discuss if the defence choosing the prosecution is legally possible. The audiences started to murmur. Only Korede did not change her stance. The judge rapped the gavel thrice to call for silence and by then, Mr. Solomon was on his feet once again, confidence returned and once again, he spoke out of turn. “This is outrageous” he paused for a dramatic effect. “Where on earth does the Defence lawyer get to pick his opponent? No way your honour. I think my not-so-learned colleague needs to go back to law school” this drew light laughter. The judge was not amused “Mr. Solomon, if you speak again without express permission from me, I’d throw you out.” A pause. “and yes you have raised a valid point. Mr Akande, can you answer to that?”
“Mr. Ikemefuna has been compromised and will not be objective” the court room was silent with shock and strained to catch the rest of his words. Meanwhile, Solomon Ikemefuna tried to protest but was quickly restrained by Mr. Akin and the judge who glared at him from his bench. Mr. Matthew continued “he refused to try a case concerning the murder of my client two years ago even when presented with ample evidence by the inspector in charge and this my very same client” he pointed at Korede.
“these are blatant accusations. Are you sure?” the judge glared at him
“I have proof”
The judge turned to Ikemefuna and it seems like he had shrunk in his seat as he sweated in the cold room. The judge rallied back and said: that shall be addressed later. He is the the state’s lawyer and he is not on trial here”
“I beg to disagree sir. We filed a case against him at the bar and he has been suspended for the main time while investigation continues.” I’d like to present a witness to that effect.
“Go On”
“Mr Akin Akinola, please come to the stand” Matthew said sweetly. This new twist got the audience excited again. Mr Akin, the assistant Prosecution walked reluctantly to the stand and after the oath, the questioning began.
“what is your name?”
“Akin Akinpelu”
“of what profession?”
“Legal profession” the judge had to cut in here “Mr. Akande, will you cut to the chase. We know he is a credible witness. Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna watched balefully as his assistant reluctantly testified against him.
“sorry your honour” Matthew faced Akin again and continued. “you received any mail this morning?”
“Yes”
“from who?”
“The Nigerian Bar association”
“can you give us in summary the content?”
Akin knew this was coming and tried a manoeuvre tactic. “that is my personal mail not to be shared in court”
For the first time, Akande vented in anger “and my client’s life is in the line. I can subpoena your whole mail if I have to but should we waste time?”
The judge ordered Mr. Akin “answer the question”
“I am to relieve Mr. Ikemefuna of his position indefinitely pending the end of an ongoing investigation” the judge is now angry. “is that true, Mr. Ikemefuna?”
“I have not read my mail” he stammered. He was escorted out of the courtroom by two policemen in disgrace.
***
The trial lasted six days and politicians were riled into it. Policemen were tried along and Chief Alabi and Alao were hated. The casualty of the trial was going into the range of sixty and seventy. The state was in a state of hysteria. Korede became a heroine suddenly and that was greatly helped by Carol’s column. The whole world especially the African continent is waiting for the judgement of this product of a rotten society. The Ade-Ola gang became a fan club of some sort and people kept joining. On the day of the judgement, people who could not go to court waited by their phones and radios for news. The judgement came.
Korede was thereby sentenced to twenty-years imprisonment. A sentenced to be served in the state jail and not the main prison. That was as close as a victory that they could get. She would be paroled in seven years. That was the deal they made with the state. The times paper had more subscriptions due to Carol’s column. Korede was being transferred to a nearby facility for her term when the black Maria rode into an ambush. There was plenty of gunfire, and Korede knew at that moment that the Alabis would hunt her. She picked the lock of the cuffs and borrowed a gun from of one of the police she had by then befriended, jumped down and got two men before a short grazed her arm. She fell in pain and remained still. The shooter sauntered over and had half a second of surprise befor Korede Pumped three bullent into his head.the gunfire stopped suddenly and checking that the coast was clear, Korede ventured out. She saw a figure coming towards her and she raised her gun only to lower it when she saw that it was Ade. She ran to him and hugged him tight. Ade cleanly plunged the knife into her stomach and watched surprise etch on her face. she tried to reverse but Ade’s grip was strong and he moved the knife to the right violently tearing her stomach while the internasl organs spilled out in bright red. Ade made to run away but was shot in the leg. Groaning in pain, he turned and had the same expression as Korede on sight Lola and the smoking gun in her hand. “I suspected this when you started meeting the Alabis in secret. Carol saw you when she was trying to interview them.” She checked Korede and when she saw that she was dead, she said a quick prayer and closed Korede’s eyes. She then searched Ade and took his gun. She looked at him groaning on the floor and step on his leg where she had shot him. Ade screamed and the scream merged with the siren coming. Ola waited enough to let them get close. She held her gun and pointed it at them claiming innocence. She told them of Korede’s death and Ade’s part in it. She then ran. A couple of police followed her but she was of the jungle and she knew it better. They stood no chance. They returned to pack the bodies littering the highway and arrest Ade.
***
Four years later, Carol was the assistant chief editor of the times, a feat never before done by a female after managing to graduate from NIJ. She still writes her Carol’s column and she still had nightmares about Korede. Korede’s mother died the night of Korede’s death and Kolade came back home to sell the lands and property and then return to the north. He had given his permission to Carol to write whatever she wants to write as the only surviving family member.
Carol still visited her Aunt and her now very famous lawyer uncle. They had supported her and they love her and that was why she made them the chair persons at her book launch the following Wednesday. The day came and the book launch was a huge success. It was a four hundred-odd paged book with Yellow cover and Korede’s picture standing legs akimbo and looking defiantly at the camera on the front page. The media remembered and they came. Social workers came. Lawyers came. Politicians came and the common man came. Carol felt on top of the world when her old supervisor now Professor Badeji came to the occasion. He took the book and read the foreword in front of everyone.
This work is not just a work but an experience. I saw, I felt and I learnt. Korede is not perfect but she was not the devil many of us thought she was but a brave fighter in a world of fight or flight. I implore us not to see Korede here as a hero but as a human and woman with courage and spirit. I have learnt that “the nail that stick up gets hammered down” that is why we do not stick up again for the fear of being hammered down. Korede was hammered down but she pierced lots of wrong spot before she was hammered down by the unlikeliest of hammers. Shall we stick up or remain down like bad seed for the fear of being hammered down?
The applause was overwhelming and the book, THE ONE THAT STUCK UP sold over a million copies in its first week
The End
That was what the leadership front headlines screamed at readers. Martins Caroline barely had time to read the news before her phone rings. She picked the call and uhed and ahed before racing back to the NIJ building to see her supervisor. At the corner before the office of Dr. Badeji, she collided with a secretary sending the poor woman sprawling on the floor. Helping her up, Carol mumbled an apology that was rather insufficient. Two minutes later, she was standing short of breath in front of the bespectacled man who holds her future in his hands.
Dr. Badeji looked at the petite lady in front of him with mild pity, mild scorn and mild admiration. She might not graduate with her peers and that is a source of concern for him. Carol had been one with a rather adventurous spirit and a nose for extraordinary news story. That had been her cause of failure here. Her news is too big for a single coverage and involves research time that the school cannot give. Now either she gets a news that will turn heads or she gets an extra year.
“sit down” he said gravely.
Carol sat at the edge of the chair. She knew what was coming but that did not still make her comfortable. Here is her favourite lecturer and he might want to cushion the blow. she decided to make it easier for him.
“I am not graduating. I know”. She was shocked at the tremble she heard in her voice.
“says who”
“I just know”
“There might still be a chance…” Carol’s head jerked up “…if you get that one in a thousand story”. They made eye contact, challenge in one pair of eyes and fear in the other. After an impregnable silence, she asked “how long do I have?”
“three months” and that was it. She had an assignment that will help her graduate, put her in the lime light or spoil her career before it even has the chance to take off. She walked out of the office after thanking Dr. Badeji. The paper was still where she had left it. He picked it and the headline accosted her again. Ordering a coffee from the cycling vendor, she settled to read the story.
On the morning of Wednesday, 12th of august 1997, Korede Abiodun allegedly shot to death two notable chiefs and injured three labourers over a land dispute on the said land. Eye witnesses claimed that she and her mother had gone to their land to find workers and the chiefs supervising them. Challenging them, the chiefs had ordered the workers to continue their work and laughed in the faces of Korede and her mother. Korede who ‘rolled’ with the boys of the neighbourhood was infuriated at the wicked treatment and challenged the chiefs to their outrage. According to a source who wishes anonymity, the chiefs asked the labourers to grab Korede only to have her frail mother step in. one of the chiefs shoved the woman roughly to the ground and she held on to his white agbada. After that, the chief proceeded to deal slaps on Korede’s mother. Meanwhile the labourers moved to grab Korede when she drew a gun. She went mad after she saw her mother on the ground clutching with all her strength the agbada of her oppressor. She fired at the chief and the second chief who tried to wrestle the gun from her took a hit also in the stomach. By this tme, Korede was more than trigger happy and fired another shot at the labourer who tried to bully her mother, helping the dying chief. The police arrived shortly with ambulance which conveyed the bodies and injured ones to the hospital and morgue. Korede is now being held in Panti for questioning. She is set to appear in court for arraignment in a fortnight. She has refused to give comment or see anyone.
By the time Carol finished, she was thinking how sensational the story is and how much publicity its attracting. She decided to do a bit of digging herself. The community is somewhere in the ifelodun local government close to her aunt’s place. “time to visit aunty Philomena” she thought.
***
Philomena Akande and her husband and three adolescent children lived in the northern part of the Ifelodun local government. Their house was a moderate three-bedroom flat befitting civil servants who combine trading with the government income. Dinner was rice and beans with spinach vegetable. The family had just started dinner when the chimes of the door-bell was heard. Caleb the second child jumped up to check. He’s a restless boy. The shout of Big C made the other two children Mortdecai and Esther dash to the gate to meet their favourite cousin. All of them sauntered in with the three kids holding at least a part of Caroline. Carol greeted her aunt and her uncle Matt. The warm response and the look of admiration from her younger cousin’s face made her feel comfortable that she is home. Dispensed with greetings, Philomena served her niece enough food to feed at least two hungry kids claiming that “you are getting more skinny”. Caleb and Esther abandoned their food to eat with their big cousin.
The children in bed, the uncle plopped comfortably on the sofa in front of the television watching news, Philo and Carol got talking. Philo loved this child like her own. Her own elder sister had trained her and help set her up after their parent’s death only for her to die at the birth of this amazing child. Philo was ready to raise her but she did not see eye to eye with her brother-in-law and so had to content herself with term holidays and birthdays. her reaction to the assignment Carol is embarking on was expected and so Caro set top putting her mind to rest. The following day, Carol went to the community and got lucky when she asked a bread seller by the side of the road the address of Korede.
“you mean the house of Iya-Ibeta (Mother of triplets)?” the bread-seller quipped
“er..”
“just go front small, you go see one green house near one very tall palm tree. They write KKK for the front”
The house was difficult to miss, because it was but a smouldering ruin with the ashes still hot and near the ‘one very tall palm tree’ as described. Carol brought out her camera and was snapping away when she was tapped on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was looking at the button of a police uniform. She stepped back and raised her head to see the face of the six feet person.
“Who are you?” the policeman asked.
“I am a press person and I am investigating the murder crime” The snort of the police was a huge slap to her profession but she was undaunted. “what” she continued “can you tell me?”
“Nothing other than the fact that it is arson”
“whom can I talk to?” she persisted. Something in her voice made the policeman look at her again. “I think you should talk to Ade” he glanced at her again. I was going there. “You can come along if you don’t mind” Carol followed despite not knowing who ‘Ade’ is or where ‘there’ means. She was following her instinct now. They walked for fifteen minutes before arriving at a building popularly referred to as ‘face me I slap you’ due to the fact that one tenant’s entrance is directly facing the entrance of another’s. they entered the third room by the left and were met by a young man in a three-quarter short and black singlet, a lady with a scar running from her ear to her mouth and a fragile looking woman whom Carol soon learned was Iya Ibeta, the mother of Korede. “ this is..” inspector looked at Carol for her name “caroline” she said “and she is a journalist. She wants to talk to you.” The scarred lady and the other guy shared a look and the guy gave an almost imperceptible nod before they introduced themselves.
“I am Ade and this is my girlfriend, Ola. We are K’s friends” Ola took over and introduced Iya Ibeta. The next one hour produced a most touching story amidst tears on the old woman’s side and threat on the couple’s side. Carol was able to capture all that on her midget. She was basically able to retrieve that since Korede’s father’s death, a couple of years ago, the two chiefs who were supposedly his friend then claimed falsely that the late man had sold them the land and they choose to claim it. Iya ibeta meanwhile had been told shortly before her husband’s death the duo wanted to force him to sell his land and that he doesn’t want to. The matter eventually got to the local head of Ifelodun, the bale who ruled in the favour of the two chiefs despite the documents presented by the Abioduns. Korede vowed to hold on to her father’s land irrespective of any ruling. What followed was more of an elaborate version of the paper story. Mrs. Abiodun claimed that her daughter shot to protect her and burst into tears when recounting how she found her 100-year-old house on fire, an obvious act of vengeance. She claimed the police did not even mount a worthy investigation nor did they make any arrest despite the fact that every finger is pointing to the household of chief Alabi. She has been putting up with her daughter’s friends because suddenly she found herself without friends. Tentatively, carol asked about the other children, after all, Korede is one of triplet. She was told that Kayode was sickly at birth and died at the age of nine while Kolade is in the north crippled from an earlier accident and is struggling to make ends meet. He could not come home for his father’s burial in fact. The couple saw her off the road after they eagerly gave Carol permission to visit her in jail if she chooses to see her because she would not even see her mother.
There was no light when carol got home at her aunt’s place. She plugged her phone to her reliable power-bank and powered her computer system. “Thank God, it’s on 75%” she wrote her first paragraph and had to rewrite and rewrite again and again till she felt it was perfect enough. The words soon flowed. thankfully, Mrs Abiodun did not object to photograph. Afterwards, she called her old editor where she did her internship and told him that she’d like to do exclusive cover of the crime. He was reluctant but soften up considerably when she told him that any pay is at his discretion and she is coming from the angle of the family and accused. All her attempt to talk to the family of the late chiefs were thwarted and the injured labourer was not of much help in relaying info. His picture was a good addition to her collection though. By the time her aunt was back with her kids, Carol was sprawled carelessly on the bed asleep with the computer dead and the ominous blue light of the power bank emphasizing the gloom that comes with evening and power failure. Aunty Philo covered her with blanket while Esther fell into bed with her and snuggled to her.
At dinner, Caleb asked out of the blue:
“Big C, are you going out tomorrow”
“yes”
“What time?”
“I don’t know yet. Why do you want to know?”
He nudged Mortdecai who took over “we’d like you to take us to school”
“yes, yes please” Esther pleaded and in her excitement nudged the jug of water over wetting everybody. Uncle Matt looked sternly at her and she hung her head. She was silent until her Big C consoled her with the promise of giving her a facial make-up and chocolate ice-cream by weekend. Dinner ended with the family watching a comic soap opera.
“The house was always boring especially when mother was not around, the street was always lively and had lots to offer especially what one least expects and so the street guys are always ‘ready’ but jail is something totally different” these were the thoughts running through Korede’s mind when a police woman called her name: “Korede Abiodun” she pronounced the name with much emphasis on the consonants as the Igbo people are wont to do. “you have a visitor” she finished rather impatiently. Korede knew the cause of her irritation. She had refused to meet anyone and the young lady corporal had burnt the brunt of errand lady. To rile her further, she asked: “who?”. Corporal glared at her over the see through iron bars and mention something vaguely about a reporter. Like always, Korede declined and smiled wistfully wondering how the world out sees her. She had no regrets killing the misogyny bastards who wanted to dupe her of her father’s property. The pigs even had the guts to raise hand at mother. “I’d kill them again…”. The loud voice of the corporal interrupted her thoughts again. She was beginning to get angry. Thrusting a piece of paper through the bar at her, the corporal said “here, this is for you”. After Korede collected it from her and inserted it into her pocket, she snapped “the nosy reporter is waiting for response” Korede opened the paper and read the badly scrawled writing: Korede, please see me if only for five minutes. I have the blessings of Ade, Ola and mother. I’m here for your part of the story. The reference to mother made Korede’s eyes water and she turned away in embarrassment. “I’ll see him” she moved. “it’s her”, corporal said as she opened the door with a key from the key ring in her pocket. The corridor used to be white but now it was dirty grey and so was the other part of the building that had disintegrated from lack of maintenance. Korede was soon seated in front of a petite woman with a fixed curly hair recently done. A female definitely. Carol looked at the beautiful lady in front of her, who had killed and maimed, but who at the same time conveys the feeling of someone you would want to have on your side. She liked her instantly and thus decided to be straight with her.
“my name is Caroline Martins and I am a final year student at the Nigerian institute of journalism. I saw your story and I’m here to hear your side of the story and report the accurate events.” She paused and when no response was forthcoming, she continued “I have to be candid. As much as I can relate with what you did and perhaps why you did it, I am on the fence and cannot say that I am on your side. There it is. What do you say?”
“impressive. First, how is mother?”
“you prefer straight talk and so I assume we can be blunt…”
“yes, we can. So answer.”
“she really is down and sad.”
“what else can you tell me?”
“your house was burnt down yesterday morning.” Korede visibly slumped on the chair. Anger, pain and distress all passed on her facial expression. Standing up wearily like the news had instantly aged her, she crossed to the other side of the small room, resting her head on the wall, she sobbed quietly; a spasmodic movement of the shoulders and pitiful sounds. She turned back and faced Caroline. “where is she?” on hearing that she is with ‘Ade-Ola’, she smiled sadly and said curtly: “Let us begin”
“tell me about yourself first for background check”
“my name is Korede Abiodun and I was born twenty years ago. I was born a triplet and were named Kolade, Korede and Kayode. My father was a court clerk who earned little and loved his family, while mother has always been a trader. She was rather weak and drew strength from father. At the age of seven, Kayode was diagnosed of leukaemia and he died two years later. Mother was devastated and found solace in me and Kolade. Kolade too was having issues in school and was soon diagnosed of dyslexia, a learning disorder. He quit school at fifteen and went to trade in the north. He had a car accident and became crippled. You know the funny thing, he impregnated the daughter of the local doctor treating him and so had to get married to her to keep her honour. Dad fought with him and Kola decided on that day to never have anything to do with us again. Mother wept her eyes out as he stormed out of the house pitifully on his crippled feet. I cried too and that was the last I cried until father’s death two years ago. father was poisoned and no inquiry was made” Carol had to cut in here
“who was in charge of the case?”
“don’t be in a hurry. I have all the hard evidence and more” she continued “I turned to the street where I could forget momentarily and also prove myself in the art of defence. I can hold myself against any guy and soon I was accepted into the street fold. Do you know that there is no gender discrimination in the street unlike within the government where we are treated like underlings” Carol felt closer to this woman more and more to her own chagrin.
“Chief Alabi who happens to be the father of the inspector in charge of dad’s poisoning tried to steal my land and even laid his meaty hands on my mother with his side kick, Chief Alao. Thank God I was with my ‘stick’.”
“So,,,” Carol prompted
“I did them” she said with a tone of finality. The background info given, Caroline then took Korede back to reveal in details what she had just said. They got to the point of Kayode’s death and Korede’s silences were getting longer, to avoid crying Carol thought. The corporal was also already patrolling the corridor. Pressing the stop button on the tape, carol round off the session and promised to return in two days and with help. Korede was shocked and rigid when Carol quite naturally threw her arms round her for a brief but tight hug.
She left for home, picked the kids at school, fed and bathed them, set them in front of their home work, she focused on her writing and two hours later and quelling a fight between Mortdecai and Caleb, she was done and she sent the first of her column to her editor for the next day paper. The editor called her back barely one hour later to express his delight at the story. He only managed to correct one typo and that was that. For dinner that night, Uncle Matt took them all out. “Uncle, I know it is going to be a sudden but, will you consider representing…” Carol was interrupted by her aunt Philo “Korede?” she shared a look with her husband before stating matter-of-factly that “let me let you guys discuss” and marched into the master bedroom. Two hours later, Uncle Matt and Niece Carol finalised that Uncle Matt who is a lawyer albeit an intellectual property one will represent Korede and they will meet with her in two days. By then it was past one a.m. and Carol slept off immediately her head touched the pillow.
The phone ringtone was like an earthquake to the still very much asleep carol and her hand shot out to quiten it. She missed it and punched her laptop charger to the floor from the bedside table. The phone refused to stop ringing and so, searching with her left arm while the right cushion her sleeping head, she located the phone and picked the call. The booming voice of her supervisor wipped every trace of sleep off her face and she sat up so suddenly that she felt dizzy for a couple of seconds. “Dr. Badeji, Morning sir”
“Morning my dear, congratulations”
“congratulations? What? I don’t get you”
He asked: “Have you seen your paper?”
“No” she said as knowledge slowly dawned
“it is the talk of town now. You actually managed to arouse pity for the poor girl. You should have been a lawyer” with that, he broke the connection to attend to other things. Carol on her own went to the kitchen barefooted noting the silence of the empty house as everybody had either gone to work or school. Making herself garri to eat with the ogbono soup she had just heated on the stove, she checked the time. It was past ten and the sun was fully out by now. After a filling meal, she dressed up and went to the last bus-stop before the street to get a newspaper. She got an extra copy for Korede. She returned to the house and settled down to read the article. She smiled all through and was pleased at herself. Checking her phone, she saw loads of instant messages from least expected people; her classmates that might be leaving her behind. She replied those she could and off she went to lala land again right there on the sofa in the sitting room.
Korede was shocked to discover that she was actually eagerly awaiting the return of the small-framed journalist. She reckoned that it is because she is different. Or maybe because she didn’t come across all judgemental like most others she had met. Still reeling from the hug at the end of the last session, she waited in the room for her would-be inquisitor who is already running three minutes behind schedule. There she is with a middle aged man in brown blazer that sat well on his shoulders. They both were ushered in by another police today who happened to be of the sergeant rank. “I’m so sorry Korede. The traffic was bad” she bursted out as she entered.
“I understand” Korede retorted softly, eyes steadily on the male company.
“meet Mr. Mathew. He is a lawyer and he is willing to represent you if you are willing too” turning to Mr. Mathew, she continued “meet Korede, my new friend” Korede flinched at that but masked it well. It didn’t escape the notice of Matt. “why would you represent me, Mr. Matt?
Mathew held her eyes with his and spoke in that soft voice of his, with a slight drawl: “if you are a lawyer and you have family and you also possess a conscience, you would want to represent you, after reading this.” He tossed a newspaper on the table. Korede picked it and read Carol’s column. “this”, she pointed at the story “was out yesterday and you are here today. How?” here, Carol Jumped into the fray “I told him about it already” at Korede’s sharp look, she added “because he is my uncle” the look softened. Carol was willing to excuse them after Korede signed the hire form, but Korede insisted she stayed and listened. As they talked, Carol was continually shocked at the revelations. Korede has documents proving that complaints were made to the police station concerning her father’s homicide, a tape recording of the police making a joke out of it, chief Alabi and Alao’s voices on tape recorder gloating over a drink about the successful elimination of Mr. Abiodun, the certificate of ownership of the land in dispute , her father’s disposition about the plot to force him to sell and enough pictures to indict of twenty policemen, lawyers (her father’s lawyer too who happened to be an old schoolmate of Mathew) and local chiefs in the community). Mathew was given address of a shop where he was to pick the documents. Mathew said he would get it the following day, make copies and return, to which Korede replied: “don’t worry, there are lots of them around” Lagos state better be ready for the coming explosion” said Caroline. She got more facts from the jail inmate and she was soon on her feet with her uncle bidding her farewell after another appointment was made. This time around, Korede was prepared for the hug and though she did not flinch, she did not return the hug.
Carol’s column’s next edition made use of Korede’s picture as she signed her legal form and that of Barrister Mathew when he was in law school. The audiences followed the story with keen interest. Two human activist contacted her, a renowned feminist discussed Korede on her television program, a female writer wants to co-write a book with Carol about Korede. Meanwhile Korede’s trial approaches fast and her mother’s health also was declining fast.
The silence of the panti jail was more oppressive since Carol took a break to go and write her final exams. She missed her mum and she had spoken to her on phone the last time Uncle Matt (he had insisted on the informal title of uncle) had been there. She was not well and Ade and Ola are really trying. She owed those two mightily. It had slowly dawned on her that she might lose her life to the government. She is not afraid to die but she will not die because she is seen as a woman and so cannot stake claim to what belongs to her. If she will die, she intends to go down with lots of people. Carol on her own part, had to leave her aunt’s place to write her exam which lasted for two weeks. Sorely missed by her three cousins, she was called every night and so maintained a semblance of communication with her family. She had submitted already her stories for her weekly columns enough to last the two weeks of her examination. The two ladies both caught in their own world of crime and academics missed each other, more so, as they do not have means of communicating with each other.
***
The trial day arrived so soon, 27th of June amidst a big downpour. It was as if the heavens were already weeping for the accused. The road leading to the Ikeja high court was jammed full and this was made so by the number of the pedestrians, motor vehicles, tri- cycles and motor cycles all struggling to get ahead along the mud splattered road. Carol was able to get there early because she hitched a ride from her uncle who was to appear in court as the defence counsel. Waiting at Moshalashi bus-stop, she had waved to be seen as her uncle’s car had driven past and was lucky he had seen her because she did not call ahead. They said pretty little in the ride to the court, each lost in his own thoughts that seemed to be getting bleaker by the moment. The court was almost filled with cars and Mattthew had to navigate around for ten minutes before he got a corner he slid in. clutching a briefcase and holding Carol’s hand as they dashed inside from the rain, he made the picture of a fugitive on the run. They sat shivering awaiting the jail van that would bring Korede while another court session was in progress inside the court. Local cops that milled around gave them but a cursory glance except a couple who sidled over to say hello to Uncle Matt.
Matt was thinking how disappointed the public would be, because today’s session in court for the ‘amazing murdress’ (that was what they, the public had dubbed her from Carol’s Column) would be extremely short. He hoped so, anyway. He also had a certain immense pride about the accomplishment of his wife’s young niece who was really more like a younger sister to him. He loved and respected her especially her passion for her profession. His children could not have a better elder cousin as it is.
***
She had woken up very early in the morning and was blank. She sat still on the thin Mattress that had been laid on the floor for her. Lot of thoughts coursed through her mind and she was caught in the grip of the mental image of a noose around her neck, a chaplain praying for her forgiveness before the rope jerked her up. At that she felt a shudder passed all over her and she almost fainted. She comforted herself with pictures of the past; her daddy, Kayode’s cheerful smile before he succumbed to his illness. The boy was so sweet that he had given her one of two mangoes he had and the other to Kolade and then smiling benignly with empty hands. The memory brought tears and smile to her eyes; the image of Kolade, as he limped out in annoyance, that cloudy afternoon; mother as she stared long at nothing with eyes that hide years of fears, pains, hurts and griefs. She recalled Ade, her friend who had challenged her at her introduction to the street. He had shoved her back and had pulled her hair so painfully in front of the whole street guys. Korede had slyly, though in pain slipped out a pen knife and with her free left hand, she grabbed his crotch and cut the button of his jean with the knife. The spectators were behind Ade and all they could see was Ade’s slackened hand on the girl’s hair and his groaning in pain just before his button fell to the floor.
“say the word” Korede ordered
“no way” was the grunted response and Korede’s next cut was the jean itself close to Ade’s testicles.
“I surrender” he practically yelled before he was released. They stood there glaring at each other before both admitted simultaneously “that hurts” they walked hand in hand back to the squad and she was accepted becoming friends with Ade who later confessed that he didn’t want to hurt her because he could have exposed her intestines. For that, she was eternally grateful and she had learned everything she could from him including how to shoot.
“It’s Time”. The voice broke her thoughts and she returned back into the dingy cell. She stood up and followed the policeman out to the black Maria that would convey her to the court. Inside, she felt so exposed and mused briefly what chance she had if the family of Chief Alabi decided to ambush them. How right she was, she did not know, for the ambush was planned and in laying the ambush, they were ambushed by Ade led goons who thwarted the ambush, breaking bones and drawing blood but careful not to kill. The black Maria was preceded by two police cars and another car took the rear. The trip was uneventful aside what happened in the black Maria where Korede was being guarded by two young policemen. They looked so naïve and ready to bolt from this ‘amazing murderess’. They had heard tales of her accuracy and her fearless nature. Korede compounded this by singing out Asa’s popular song; Jailer. “I’m in chains, you’re in chains too. I wear uniforms and you were uniforms too. I’m a prisoner, you are a prisoner too, Mr. jailer… they soon arrived at the court which was filled with people. Korede was blinded by lots of flashes from the cameras of journalists. She walked, head raised and not blinking through the chaos. How glad she was to see Uncle Matt, Carol, her mother, Ade and Ola with a bandage on the left arm of Ade. Introduction done, Ade’s answer at Korede’s questioning glance at his arm was: Alabi’s touts planned for your coming to court and we stopped them. Matt and Carol were surprised when Korede went to hug Ade and then Ola. It was a clumsy hug but it was full of affection and gratitude. Korede sat and consoled her mother who was looking so fragile while Matt outlined his plan and that brought a smile to everybody’s face. They filed out into the court, mother sandwiched between Carol and Ola behind the defence table. Ade sat at the back to watch out for any threats. Uncle Matt followed the police who led Korede into her seat. Honourable Festus Ademola entered and everybody rose at the clerk’s “All Rise”
“You may seat”, that from the judge. The clerk then rattled out the case number and the two count charges of capital murder and aggravated assault.
“I am Solomon Ikemefuna, the state lawyer and this is my assistant, Mr. Akin Akinpelu” the prosecution counsel introduced.
“I am Barrister Matthew Akande and the lawyer for the accused”
Judge said: “Prosecution, proceed with your opening statement”
Mr Ikemefuna stood up and received the greatest surprise of a career. “if I may, your honour” from Mr. Matthew.
Mr. Ikemefuna who is known to be an overconfident slob and snub reacted rather foolishly: “no you may not”
“Mr. Ikemefuna” bellowed the Judge “you will comport yourself in my court or I hold you in contempt.
“but your honour, cutting an introduction speech is preposterous and an outright …”
“Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna, shut up and sit down” he settled his massive bulk on the chair looking crestfallen. “Mr. Akande, this better be good” the Judge finished.
Standing and moving towards the judge deliberately planting himself between the prosecution and the accused like a protector, Matthew spoke slowly and clearly into the silence. “I want it on record that I as the defence lawyer am against Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna trying my client.” This drew lots of reaction from many people. The judge was shocked into being still. The prosecution lawyers quickly put head together to discuss if the defence choosing the prosecution is legally possible. The audiences started to murmur. Only Korede did not change her stance. The judge rapped the gavel thrice to call for silence and by then, Mr. Solomon was on his feet once again, confidence returned and once again, he spoke out of turn. “This is outrageous” he paused for a dramatic effect. “Where on earth does the Defence lawyer get to pick his opponent? No way your honour. I think my not-so-learned colleague needs to go back to law school” this drew light laughter. The judge was not amused “Mr. Solomon, if you speak again without express permission from me, I’d throw you out.” A pause. “and yes you have raised a valid point. Mr Akande, can you answer to that?”
“Mr. Ikemefuna has been compromised and will not be objective” the court room was silent with shock and strained to catch the rest of his words. Meanwhile, Solomon Ikemefuna tried to protest but was quickly restrained by Mr. Akin and the judge who glared at him from his bench. Mr. Matthew continued “he refused to try a case concerning the murder of my client two years ago even when presented with ample evidence by the inspector in charge and this my very same client” he pointed at Korede.
“these are blatant accusations. Are you sure?” the judge glared at him
“I have proof”
The judge turned to Ikemefuna and it seems like he had shrunk in his seat as he sweated in the cold room. The judge rallied back and said: that shall be addressed later. He is the the state’s lawyer and he is not on trial here”
“I beg to disagree sir. We filed a case against him at the bar and he has been suspended for the main time while investigation continues.” I’d like to present a witness to that effect.
“Go On”
“Mr Akin Akinola, please come to the stand” Matthew said sweetly. This new twist got the audience excited again. Mr Akin, the assistant Prosecution walked reluctantly to the stand and after the oath, the questioning began.
“what is your name?”
“Akin Akinpelu”
“of what profession?”
“Legal profession” the judge had to cut in here “Mr. Akande, will you cut to the chase. We know he is a credible witness. Mr. Solomon Ikemefuna watched balefully as his assistant reluctantly testified against him.
“sorry your honour” Matthew faced Akin again and continued. “you received any mail this morning?”
“Yes”
“from who?”
“The Nigerian Bar association”
“can you give us in summary the content?”
Akin knew this was coming and tried a manoeuvre tactic. “that is my personal mail not to be shared in court”
For the first time, Akande vented in anger “and my client’s life is in the line. I can subpoena your whole mail if I have to but should we waste time?”
The judge ordered Mr. Akin “answer the question”
“I am to relieve Mr. Ikemefuna of his position indefinitely pending the end of an ongoing investigation” the judge is now angry. “is that true, Mr. Ikemefuna?”
“I have not read my mail” he stammered. He was escorted out of the courtroom by two policemen in disgrace.
***
The trial lasted six days and politicians were riled into it. Policemen were tried along and Chief Alabi and Alao were hated. The casualty of the trial was going into the range of sixty and seventy. The state was in a state of hysteria. Korede became a heroine suddenly and that was greatly helped by Carol’s column. The whole world especially the African continent is waiting for the judgement of this product of a rotten society. The Ade-Ola gang became a fan club of some sort and people kept joining. On the day of the judgement, people who could not go to court waited by their phones and radios for news. The judgement came.
Korede was thereby sentenced to twenty-years imprisonment. A sentenced to be served in the state jail and not the main prison. That was as close as a victory that they could get. She would be paroled in seven years. That was the deal they made with the state. The times paper had more subscriptions due to Carol’s column. Korede was being transferred to a nearby facility for her term when the black Maria rode into an ambush. There was plenty of gunfire, and Korede knew at that moment that the Alabis would hunt her. She picked the lock of the cuffs and borrowed a gun from of one of the police she had by then befriended, jumped down and got two men before a short grazed her arm. She fell in pain and remained still. The shooter sauntered over and had half a second of surprise befor Korede Pumped three bullent into his head.the gunfire stopped suddenly and checking that the coast was clear, Korede ventured out. She saw a figure coming towards her and she raised her gun only to lower it when she saw that it was Ade. She ran to him and hugged him tight. Ade cleanly plunged the knife into her stomach and watched surprise etch on her face. she tried to reverse but Ade’s grip was strong and he moved the knife to the right violently tearing her stomach while the internasl organs spilled out in bright red. Ade made to run away but was shot in the leg. Groaning in pain, he turned and had the same expression as Korede on sight Lola and the smoking gun in her hand. “I suspected this when you started meeting the Alabis in secret. Carol saw you when she was trying to interview them.” She checked Korede and when she saw that she was dead, she said a quick prayer and closed Korede’s eyes. She then searched Ade and took his gun. She looked at him groaning on the floor and step on his leg where she had shot him. Ade screamed and the scream merged with the siren coming. Ola waited enough to let them get close. She held her gun and pointed it at them claiming innocence. She told them of Korede’s death and Ade’s part in it. She then ran. A couple of police followed her but she was of the jungle and she knew it better. They stood no chance. They returned to pack the bodies littering the highway and arrest Ade.
***
Four years later, Carol was the assistant chief editor of the times, a feat never before done by a female after managing to graduate from NIJ. She still writes her Carol’s column and she still had nightmares about Korede. Korede’s mother died the night of Korede’s death and Kolade came back home to sell the lands and property and then return to the north. He had given his permission to Carol to write whatever she wants to write as the only surviving family member.
Carol still visited her Aunt and her now very famous lawyer uncle. They had supported her and they love her and that was why she made them the chair persons at her book launch the following Wednesday. The day came and the book launch was a huge success. It was a four hundred-odd paged book with Yellow cover and Korede’s picture standing legs akimbo and looking defiantly at the camera on the front page. The media remembered and they came. Social workers came. Lawyers came. Politicians came and the common man came. Carol felt on top of the world when her old supervisor now Professor Badeji came to the occasion. He took the book and read the foreword in front of everyone.
This work is not just a work but an experience. I saw, I felt and I learnt. Korede is not perfect but she was not the devil many of us thought she was but a brave fighter in a world of fight or flight. I implore us not to see Korede here as a hero but as a human and woman with courage and spirit. I have learnt that “the nail that stick up gets hammered down” that is why we do not stick up again for the fear of being hammered down. Korede was hammered down but she pierced lots of wrong spot before she was hammered down by the unlikeliest of hammers. Shall we stick up or remain down like bad seed for the fear of being hammered down?
The applause was overwhelming and the book, THE ONE THAT STUCK UP sold over a million copies in its first week
The End
