HOSTILE GENERATION
Until you break coconut you can not eat the content. That has been the parable of my life. Iyore was telling Ese her friend and other women, that came to sympathies with her on the kidnap of her only surviving son. He was kidnapped along with other Oil Workers in the Creek of Niger-Delta. “Have I not had enough trouble? She asked rhetorically, Am I the only person in this world to be faced with all this calamity? The women in the room try to pacify her. The kidnappers will release them; the police are on their trail. Iyore became more agitated “why should they kidnap my son? Where did they expect us to get $ 100 million dollars ramson? God, what offence have I committed. while she was still lamenting. News flash on the TV revealed that the kidnappers had killed all their captives. Those security operatives tried to rescue them but they failed. Iyore yelled and fainted. She was rushed to the hospital. Ese looked at her on the hospital bed and shook her head sadly. Why have fate decided to play trick with this poor widow life? I often wonder why good people suffer most in this world. This kind and wonderful woman is an embodiment of milk of compassion. But she is going through hell. She touches the life of more than 2000 orphans through her NGO Progamme. God will be her strength, Iyore life is like Iroko tree that provide shelter and shade to others but no one to protect it from forces of nature. Ese continue with her narration. Her predicament started 1990 when a group of soldiers staged a failed coup against the Government. Chief Adegun, Iyore husband was arrested and detained because he was a close friend of the leader of coup plotters. All his effort to convince his captors of his innocence of the offence he was incarcerated for failed. He eventually died in the prison. He was never tried in any court of law. No investigation was carried out before his death in the prison. The military junta confisticated all his property, Iyore life was sheltered by that ugly incident, for many years, herself and her children struggle and tow. The stigma of coup plot against their family made things more difficult for them. Nobody made any effort to know the truth even their extended family. Every one avoided them like plaque. It was with determination Iyore and children were able to overcome that situation. To survive that trying period, Iyore and her children fry and hawk Akara, Pure Water, Banana and other items around the city of Lagos
Another calamity struck the poor widow last year April when Boko Haram invaded Gwoza village. Iyore first son Esofa a medical doctor was killed by the insurgents. Reports has it that he was attending to a pregnant woman in labour, that the baby was half way out when the invaders came shooting sporadically. Information from those who survive the attack says that Efosa had the opportunity to escape from the scene but instead he stayed and pleaded for mercy for the baby and the mother. He was killed along with the mother and the children.
When Ese was still narrating her story, Iyore opens her eyes she look dazed, she look around and asked “what are mine doing here? What happen? Ese told her that she is admitted at Titilope hospital, that she fainted and was rushed to the hospital. She looked around again and suddenly shouted where is my son? Where is my son? The nurses tried to calm her down; she sat up swiftly and shouted where is my son?
She smiled and shook her head pitifully and said “I bless my Generation” but you must stop shedding innocent people blood. She lay back on her bed and slept forever.
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