by Obinwanne Ezeife
This story happened right before my naked eyes.
My Uber driver had been ambushed by some airport taxi drivers because, according to them, he was stealing their customers.
The taxi men actually got some unscrupulous policemen to arrest the Uber driver.
So there I was, inside the airport police station, shouting my voice hoarse; demanding they release the poor guy.
Next thing I saw, a young plump woman, possibly in her early thirties, barged in. The woman was hysterical, eyes red, weave scattered, tears and snot all over her face.
This woman swallowed all the noise in the station with her bawling. I was almost certain this was a rape case.
Two police officers approached her, a bit coldly, “Madam, can we help you?”
“He wants to kill me o! He wants to kill me!”
Another policeman, obviously a higher ranking officer, poked his head out of his office door and signaled the victim the victim should be brought to his office.
I don’t know what transpired in the office. But about an hour later, a wealthy-looking, pot-bellied man saunters into the station, smiles at everyone like an old friend, and is quickly pointed to the same office as the battered woman.
Some moments go by. The woman, still sobbing, comes out of the office. The wealthy man and the officer emerge after her, enjoying a hearty conversation. Laughing even!
The woman is shuffling her feet, staying as far as she can from what now appears to be her husband.
The two men say their goodbyes and shake hands. The husband bounces out and the wife sulkily follows, like a lamb to the slaughter.
The policeman stands there, arms at akimbo and declares; “What kind of woman reports her husband to the police?”
His colleague shakes his head, eyes coated in disbelief.
I’ll quickly add this…the fact is, in Nigeria (and a few other places in the world), most times it’s your social status (and the size of your wallet) that determines whether or not you get away with any wrongdoing.
Obinwanne Ezeife is a young Nigerian pharmacist.