Mama Sent Me To Cell. #Weekend Engagement Contest. Week 199

It happened when I was about 17 years old. Precisely in 1995. I was in Senior Secondary School 2 (SSS2) according to the Nigerian educational system of education. My Mother was a teacher (and you know that teachers are good in giving punishments) That day my mother had denied me of food. Starving me was my mother's favorite method of punishment. A before that day, she had denied me food. So, that we the second day I was denied food. My offense was usually not doing house chores. Those experiences are the kind I wouldn't want to talk about. I was not enjoying my days with my mother to a greater extent. She is late now; talking about it could help heal inner wounds.

Because of that punishment of not having food, I came back from school hungry and weak. Since it was my mother's usual way of punishing me, I used to visit my aunties and uncles. Maybe I could have food from their houses. Staying without food as a teen was not funny at all. It must have been God who kept me from stealing from others to survive.

So, when I came home from school that day, I dropped my school bag and took off to visit one of my maternal aunties. She was living a bit far from my own house. I didn't actually know the house but I knew the street. I was still in my school uniform (white short and white shirt)

The place I was going was quite a distance from my house. When I got to the street, I decided to ask people from house to house of the aunty I was looking for. She was a Primary School teacher and had two children who were younger than me. She had told me previously that house house was number 10. When I entered the street I began to search for house number 10. On spotting a building with number 10 written on it, l turned in there and asked for the aunty. I met a man whom I didn't know was a police officer. I described to him the person I was looking for but the unexpected happened.

Thank God that today I live to tell this story because my life would have gone then. Instead of this police officer answering me peaceably or redirecting me to other houses, he forcefully put me in the boot of his 405 Peugeot car and took me to his police station. I was locked in there without any proper documentation, not any charge. I spent about 8 days there. Can you see how my mother's punishment of denying me food landed me in a police cell where criminals were locked up.

When I was not seen after a week, the family (in fact the whole village) launched a search for me. Announcements were placed on national television channels and over the radio. The parents and relatives started crying that they probably have lost me. Then one day while in the cell, a church uncle I knew came around to check on his wife's relative who was arrested and brought to the same station. When I heard his voice I cried out. That was how I was recovered from the police cell after about 8 days of assumed death.

Since then my mother stopped starving me and I stopped visiting people without my siblings knowing where I was going.

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