Monday 16 April 2012

‘I’m haunted by memory of the kid I killed during robbery’


My name is Thelma. I lost my mother when I was five years old. My father married another wife, Efe, when I was seven. She was a good mother to me, so I thought. But as I grew older, I discovered that she turned my father against me. He showed love and focused on my three other siblings and their mother. Whenever I asked anything from him, he grumbled before doing it. As a growing up child, I knew there was something missing in my life - parental love and care.

To be honest, I was treated more like a house-help than the first child of the family. Most times I cried especially when I remembered my dear mother who pampered and showed me so much care and love before death snatched her after a brief illness.
I yearned for love and care especially from my father but he ignored me. My step-mother did not make life any easier too. So, I decided to find love elsewhere. In Senior Secondary One (SS1), there was a class mate of mine, Femi who liked me so much. We started moving out together after school hours all in the name of extra classes. He introduced me to drinking and smoking. To me then, he was showing me the love and care my parents were not giving to me at home. I felt so happy staying with him that when it was time to go home, I began to cry. I felt that going home meant going back to the people who do not care and will never care about me.
Unfortunately, my father died when I was in SS2 and my step-mother threw me out of the house immediately after his burial. Sincerely, my uncle offered to train me in school and he tried his best. I stayed with his family and wrote my SSCE and JAMB examinations but I did not pass my papers. He enrolled me at an extra moral class just to ensure that I become someone in life. While there, I started dating Clem, a young, handsome man who showered me with so much gifts and money. He gave me whatever I needed but I never for a day asked him what he did for a living because I felt he was from a wealthy family. I thought he was also trying to pass his examination, get into the university and become someone in life just like me.
Most Fridays he would invite me to go to the club with him and, joyfully, I would sneak out of the house and meet him there. We will drink, smoke and dance until the wee hours of the morning. Immediately I get home, the gate-man would open the gate because I usually gave him money all the time to keep his mouth shut. But, later, my uncle discovered the kind of life I was living and asked me to leave his house before I would corrupt his children. I left and started staying with Clem and his friend. We wrote the exams when the time came but we all failed woefully.
One Friday night, we went to the club as usual and he told me I was going to accompany him and his friends somewhere. I agreed. I was young and naïve; all I wanted was to enjoy a free life with the man who loved me. But the truth is that I never knew Clem and his friends were armed robbers who were going for an operation that day.
We left the club at about 2:30 a.m. with four of his friends, three men and a lady. It was when we got to the front of this compound that I understood what I had gotten into. “Clem, what are we doing here? Where is this place?” I asked.  “Thelma, why these questions? Didn’t I tell you that you would accompany us somewhere and you agreed? This is the place,” he proclaimed. “So who are we here to see at this time of the day?” I asked. Clem threatened to kill me if I don’t stop asking stupid questions and follow his orders. We went into the compound masked and robbed everyone. We collected jewelry, cell phones, laptops and money.  I was shuddering that day because I had never stolen in my life before. When we got to the house, I sat at one corner of the room and cried for as long as tears kept dripping down my eyes until I slept off.
Clem later told me, “Thelma, you have to be strong to remain in this business since I had nowhere they go.” He taught me how to handle a gun and reminded me that we can be caught any day thus we had to keep our eyes wide open whenever we go for an operation. With all these in mind, I followed them out in the next operation. From one successful operation to another including killing the innocent people who tried to get on our way. However, after about three years of being in the gang and killing three people, our last operation did not go down well at all.
We got information that the businessman withdrew N3,500,000 from the bank for a business transaction against the next day and we trailed him to his home. The gang stormed his house at about 3:00 a.m. and asked him for the money. He denied ever visiting the bank. I threatened to shoot his newborn baby boy but he still denied. “Oga, ‘I’m haunted by memory of the kid I killed during robbery’where is the N3,500,000 you collected from the bank? If you don’t get us the money, I will kill your baby,” I warned. He thought I was joking, at that moment as if a spirit possessed me. Immediately I carried the baby upside down, shot him in the head and dropped the lifeless body on the floor. His wife fainted and he went in and brought the mon-ey in a black briefcase.
While we were making our way out of the compound, we were ambushed by the police and I was caught along with two other members of the gang. I guess one of their neighbours must have heard our voices and called in the police. We were taken to the police station and treated like the criminals we were while Clem and two other members of the gang escaped with the money. We were beaten and tortured to disclose our hideout and also give them the names of those that escaped. We did.
We were arraigned and sentenced to life imprisonment. Since I had nobody important in my life, I resigned myself to fate. I waited patiently for the day I would die in prison. I was dehumanised by the prison warders. Women meant absolutely nothing to them especially those of us who had been condemned for life. They just come to us for sex any time they want and you must comply otherwise you will be forced to conform. The strange thing was that I kept seeing that innocent baby I killed in my dreams. He kept smiling and crying at the same time and this frightens me. Most times, I wake up in the middle of the night to cry and ask God to forgive me.
I know that different churches do come to the prison to preach the message of salvation, but I have never really taken interest in listening to their teachings until about May last year. I woke up that day so depressed because of the recurrence of the dream. At about noon, we received some people from a Pentecostal church and the leader talked so much about repentance and salvation and this touched my soul. I wept like a baby and became born-again. We were counselled, given Bibles, tracts and scriptures to study and build our faith. The leader promised to pray on my behalf so that I would be set free.
On May 20, 2011, I gave my life to God and had inner peace but the dream did not stop. I started praying that God would perform miracles in my life and also stop this tormenting dream. After much prayer and fasting, I was released in November 2011 after 10 years of serving a life term. I know my release was a miracle. After my discharge, because I had no where or anybody to go to, I traced the church through the address at the back of the tracts. When I got to the church, the pastor welcomed and also gave me a room to stay within the church premises.
I started attending church services and became very serious with God. But I still kept having the dream about the baby. When I told the pastor about it, he told me I had to go and do restitution. He explained that God has forgiven me but I had to go and make amendments with the baby’s family. “I am sure God has a reason for this. You have to summon courage, meet with the family and tell them the truth,” he emphasised. “Pastor, do you want to send me back to prison? Please, I can’t do such a thing. I cannot go back to prison” I sobbed.
A few days later, I went near that same compound just to make sure the family still lives there. Suddenly, I saw the father of the baby with two lovely boys and, candidly, the incidence of that night started playing back in my head. “God, how can I face this man and his wife? Will they ever forgive me? God, please help me. I am in a dilemma,” I said to myself.
I thought once you are born again all your sins are forgiven? I cannot go and face a family I intentionally killed their baby. What would happen if I confess to them and they threaten to send me back to prison? What do I do? Honestly, I don’t want to go back to prison. Is this restitu-tion really necessary?

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