Feyike: 5 years on and the memories

My kidulthood was over

You were the reason mummy called me into her bedroom one late evening to have our first adult conversation, she was probably in her second trimester with you when I, totally oblivious and that is strange having been schooled in noticing when girls get pregnant with the whitening of their eyes and their constant spitting, along with the morning sickness. Maybe it was the familiarity, for apart from my immediate sister, I had never really noticed when my mother was expecting, the babies just arrived after a few days away.

Anyway, the conversation went along the lines of, I am an older woman now, as she was just shy of 40 and I 17, exactly a month after her landmark year, well, our birthdays have always been a month apart in and out of leap years. Yes, an older woman having a baby, and this was unexpected, but we now have to pull together and recognise that some responsibilities would fall on us over time.

My deception was complete

Much as she felt that this information should be shared with me, I was not having the best adolescence, my first year at Lagos State College of Science and Technology was going to be an unmitigated disaster doing Chemical Engineering, my performance was woeful, it was not even good enough to be asked to repeat the class.

Meanwhile, I had pulled a switch to Yaba College of Technology (YabaTech for short) for Electrical Engineering where the faculty had to be given proof that I was still 16 when we had the admissions interview, the underlying issue that many would call unseriousness and was patently clinical depression, carried along into that stint, I just rarely understood why I was in a class, the new beginnings for mother and child too divergent for concern or consideration.

My situation was dire

What would a nursing mother do with a child who is supposed to be smart but cannot understand anything going on in his lectures? I had never used drugs, that was not the problem, I just had a fog in my head that I could not clear, that religion became the steadying rail for my mental health until things began to clear up was the background in which Feyike arrived.

That week in which Feyike was born was when I moved into the YabaTech hostels, I was a parents’ nightmare, for when my mother was in hospital I had stolen money out of the kitty in her wardrobe and then had to face an inquiry against the conviction that she put aside some money and it had somehow disappeared, indeed, I was a nightmare, everything I could do wrong, I did.

My behaviour was atrocious

For the hostel, I snagged that by writing to the accommodations department that I could not stay with my uncle, even my parents found a copy of that letter when I did not arrive home on time having been on the new students’ jaunt to Badagry and Cotonou. I guess I was excused serious punishment that my father was always ready to mete out when I explained the situation.

I did not attend Feyike’s naming ceremony and for that, I faced the full wrath of my father, this weedy kid against the brute force of an angry and menacing bully, I asked for it and I got a lot, I never escaped being a child. Some encounters with my father in those times have so defined the quality of our relationship since then.

My religion was unhelpful

As I was rarely home, I did not know much about the illness that put my baby sister in hospital many times, and sometimes for weeks. I returned home once to lift her and there must have a dislocation in her arm, we soothed her with lullabies and lulled her to sleep. Many times, I prayed fervent prayers for her healing, hoping for a miracle and much else, but there was a radical change in our family unit.

Medicine only seemed to provide temporary outcomes, my mother’s inclination was she was in deep spiritual warfare for the soul of her first son and the life of her last daughter, she found a prophet that had some answers to whatever ailed all of us and got stuck in. My father with all pretensions of rationality hated religion even if he did the basic church attendance and community group activities, he could be persuaded to do the full fetish rituals, which had the accoutrements of the macabre. I saw a lot and said very little.

My knowledge was deficient

Invariably, I never knew how ill our Feyike became over the years for most of the time I visited home, she was in remission from another hospital visit or bout of illness, everything I know I have learnt mostly after the fact.

When I was told that she had fallen very ill some years before her passing, I made enquiries through some doctor friends of mine on Twitter, they found the medical notes and history that for her apparently chronic illness she had not been adherent to her medical regimes.

Probably, a trait in our family, we hate medical regimes, it took a medical emergency for me to face up to the reality of my own situation, and now, I have been on at least 3 pills a day for over 12 years. It is just part of my life.

My mourning was early

She had end-stage renal disease requiring dialysis thrice-weekly dialysis and consequently needed a kidney transplant for hers had stopped functioning. I saw a medical abyss ahead, and began to mourn, long before we knew much more, the system in Nigeria, I did not think could sustain her dire medical needs and my sisters put everything they had into trying to keep her alive.

We were somewhat in a losing battle, and towards the end, Feyike herself was donating money raised for her own treatment to others. On the morning of the 18^th of October 2016, my middle sister called, Feyike had left us.

My sister was my daughter

The way our story was intertwined seems to be much more around what I was going through than what her own experiences were because I had left home in the second year of her childhood and everything else I know of her is through conversation than observation. Yet, she to me felt more like a daughter than a sister, she would have been the sole beneficiary of my estate, it was her name on the life insurance policy I took out when I bought my apartment in the Netherlands in 2001.

Maybe, I was something like an absent father, one she knew was somewhere out there in the periphery, not intruding but interested, I cannot tell. I know I miss the snatches of conversation we used to have, the hopes and dreams that seeped into the ever-present sense of hopelessness that something might just change for the better.

She lived her life and when she died, it was a great release from lifelong suffering and disease, a baby, a girl, a lady, a woman, a person who touched our lives in immeasurable ways, some difficult to put in words, but time becomes a store of the fondest memories that can never be forgotten, recalled for sombre occasions like this.

 

Oluwafeyikewa, 4^th November 1982 – 18th October 2016.

On parental interference and sundry matters - II

Incubating a man

As a 55-year-old child and I use child expressly because I still have my parents alive and well, it is a blessing beyond measure, yet, our relationship has a fragility stuck in transition, for as a 55-year-old, if fortitude had allowed, I would be a grandparent besides the other achievements and tribulations that define my life story. I have no regrets.

There are long periods in time that my parents have not been part of any of my decision-making processes, I have made choices and lived by them even with life-threatening consequences that I have survived leaving me in gratitude to the divine and medicine. That is part of the construct of influences that informs my worldview.

Apron strings shredded

As parents, I would think there are times where they do presume, they control and direct what I do, it might come as a surprise to them that they lost that kind of influence when they were unwilling to negotiate way back in my teenage years.

On the part of my father, it was when we were on a break at our village of Ijesha-Ijebu, I wanted to spend a night away with friends in Sagamu, he flatly refused, not only was I embarrassed by it, at that point I swore never to return to our village again, I have not for 36 years, and whilst many may dismiss my fit of imperious petulance, that decision is made.

Umbilical cords destroyed

My mother however who I love so dearly has sometimes conflated her profession with her parenting, she is a retired schoolteacher and principal of many secondary schools. I do remember once when she asked me to do up a shirt button and I snapped back that I am her son not her student. My religious diversions brought much conflict at home in what they thought was taking me away from my studies, considering we came from mixed religious backgrounds and the deepest religious affliations have always differed between my father and my mother.

On returning from my chosen church one Sunday, my mother in a fit of rage deployed the sternest ovarian disapprobation that stuck like the branding of a hot-iron poker, searing me to the core. As I walked out of that encounter, I was probably saved from the more damaging effects of it by inspired words of Scripture that escaped my lips at that point. “For ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls.” [Bible Hub: 1 Peter 2:25]

He’s gone, really

Indeed, I have forgiven my parents, but no, I have not forgotten, the encounters they have long dismissed as trivial are for the recipient literally life-defining. I am their child and their son; however, I will define the parameters within which that operates. The episodes above happened when I was already nominally an adult, and an adult is fundamental not a child regardless of what parental control they seek to exert even at this time.

It might seem that I am protesting much on this matter of apparently unresolved conflicts, I believe there are many for the truth is my parents do not know much about me or even a lot about me from when I left for boarding school at the age of 10. They might have seen some foundational personality traits, and some character-forming predilections, but that is where their understanding ends.

Participate well, police not

Much as I seek not to be confrontational, the fragility I referred to earlier is easily exposed to fractiousness by misplaced commentary or even obduracy on their part. In my usually mild-mannered demeanour, my individuality, and my independence are totally sacrosanct, how I choose to live my life will not be dictated to me by anyone.

The blessing of the ease of communication and social media interaction allows for participation, but I will brook no policing. I blocked my father on Facebook, I did rescind the block but declined a new friend request.

Blog: On parental interference and sundry matters (February 2019)

I will listen to a lot of insight, wisdom, and advice, but I will respectfully make my own decisions. I suppose the other views I have might end up in a series of blogs.

 

It's my prerogative

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In the same vein

Over the last few weeks, I have written a few blogs on parent-child relationships because I have had to run the gauntlet of issues that are probably not unique to just myself.

It was only eleven days ago that I blocked my father on both Facebook and Instagram because I think he crossed the line from participating in my social environment into interfering with it. Some might think that was a drastic step to take, but I did not second-guess that matter, I was incensed and riled up about it, I had no other alternative than to take that action.

Then in conversation with one of my best friends, we discussed how I should have cut him a bit of slack, it is probably excusable that he confused my life with his views of a lifestyle, conflating them in misunderstanding the differences and by that overstepped the bounds of matters that are particularly mine alone and no one else’s.

Between life and lifestyle

Life is an encompassing issue that engenders the participation of every aspect of a person, in living, in livelihood, in relationships, in the community, in society and whatever area of endeavour. In life, you live, you love, you face options, you make choices, decisions can be life-changing and it could be quite different from the norm. But one person's norm might well be the abnormal of another, which is why we find accommodations and the openmindedness to live and let live.

When a person finds love and a relationship with another regardless of gender pairing; whilst it might court controversy, that is life in action, not the passing fad of a lifestyle. There are hearts, minds, bodies, and souls engrossed in this unique journey of soulmates. You cannot for the want of conformity complicate or upend the life of another to satisfy the wishes of some construct or societal mores.

Too many people have been hurt by unsavoury, imposed, or unwelcome matchmaking in the hope that something might blossom out it. Just that you think someone is good from your perspective does not mean, that is the best match for the person you think you're helping get hitched. It works for some, it is not the solution for many, we have just one life to live than to grin and bear it with misery, trying to adjust to the requirements of others when your persuasion and inclination is completely different from what they hope for or expect.

That’s my prerogative

I would spare people the agony of living through the experience of seeing the alien expressed on my living and online persona, why bring them so much grief? The liberal use of the block with that in mind does not seem that cruel or drastic anymore.

I hope to afford my parents, my relations, my friends, my acquaintances and interested persons along with complete strangers the opportunity to participate in my social media world, however, if the said participation slips inadvertently into policing my activities; I would without hesitation put a stop to that participating without recourse for appeal or redress.

My social media space is my fiefdom, if you violate the unwritten rules of respect and circumspection, you will be excluded, no matter how close you are to me. That is completely my prerogative and it would not be yielded to another for review. Just let me live.

On parental interference and sundry matters

Dealing with parents

I could imagine that many people after reading this would probably nod their heads in agreement on the issue of parental interference. I love my parents and when things are generally fine, which means knowing their boundaries and not interfering with my life, we have quite interesting and lovely conversations.

There are however areas of concern that I would hope that parents around the world gain some maturity on. I called my brother yesterday quite upset about a comment my father posted on my activities on Facebook. He had said, “The earliest you make a good change in your lifestyle the better, it is not too late. All the best.” From my perspective, this was utterly uncalled for, and as I have written many years before and frequently as in the links below, there was a clear notice to all concerned that they accept my choices or lose to their voices in my affairs.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Accept my choices or lose your voices

Blog - Thought Picnic: Vulnerability offering opportunity

Blog - A February of love

Children provoked to wrath

Parental advice is good at any time, the kind of advice that helps you, builds you, encourages you and gives you the confidence to face the world. There was a time when as a child parental advice was an order, your agency was within the ambit of the latitude granted by your guardians. When that child becomes an adult, the parent needs to begin to adapt to new realities, the advice should come in that context, readily when asked for and tactfully when completely unsolicited for then offered like a reprimand.

In my last long conversation with my mother, who I lovingly call Iya, she offered the scripture about children honouring their parents, for it is commandment given with a promise. We were engaged in some banter as I had reported an issue, I was annoyed about to her about my father. I retorted that further down, it does say the parents should not provoke their children unto wrath.

We all have responsibilities, parents do as much as children do. If you as the hubristic almighty parent think there are no limits to how you interact with your grown-up child who is living quite independently of you in literally every sphere of their lives, then you are on the way to provoking your child unto wrath, the result of which cannot be healthy for either party.

No such ambition

The other thing is, I am very proud of my parents’ achievements in their lives, coming from their backgrounds, their professional successes and how those gave us their children amazing opportunities in life. I am probably the greatest beneficiary of it. I would be the first to confess that at some time I was a difficult child, I had my issues, and for some time, I probably was not a great source of pride to them.

Then, in resolving my own issues, I grew out of just wanting to make anyone proud as an ambition, if anyone was to feel a sense of pride in my regard, it would be incidental, not as a goal of mine. There might be a disconnection between them knowing that fact and realising I am not in a hamster’s wheel of life, trying to please anyone. I probably should have written a memorandum to all concerned.

My parents do not have that much influence in my life, not for a long time of at least three decades. Maybe in their mind’s eye and so in that of many other parents, they still see a child, we are always going to be the children of our parents, but we all grow up and that child is no more a child, but an adult. Many parents are in for a rude shock because they sometimes must be jolted violently into that new reality.

I make the decisions now

My situation is made worse for the fact that my father as a patriarch still has fully grown adults around him who have failed to gain any independence for themselves and thereby unfortunately becloud his view of things and the ability to discriminate between people who still need to be ordered around and those who at the very least should command both his courtesy and his respect in his dealings with them.

We are presented with many teachable moments which may not be immediate learning experiences but have to be reinforced time and again. I would never be a model child because my experiences and worldview are completely different from those of my parents. I try to be a good respectful child, but there are limits to what I can do. Whatever they have to say or do, the final decision would always be mine and mine alone to take.

This is a rebuke

When I have had to push back, I have not minced my words, that is the quality of education and influences around me, whilst I am reverential and respectful, when lines are crossed, order must be restored. In response to his comment, I wrote. “I do not expect to be reading these kinds of messages from you, I am 53, if you can't accept my choices, I appreciate your situation, but please, respect me for who I am. Thank you.”

Then, I blocked him on Facebook for the simple fact that, if he does not approve of my ‘lifestyle’ and that so-called lifestyle is published without reserve on Facebook, it is not helpful for him to be assaulted with it. I was only being kind.

I have however learnt that there are busybody informers on Facebook who have taken on the job of reporting my views and opinions on social media to my father from which he makes background inquiries to ascertain things without consulting me. The poor man is caught between societal encumbrances to be seen to act on the information he has received even after knowing there is little he can do than piss me off.

Well, I would hope those informants would get to read this and inform him that this is both a rebuke to him and them. Back off or this is just the beginning of some interesting storytelling. Thank you.

My own #Moonlight story is not a movie

Why I write

I wrote the themes of this blog in my mind and my head as I walked back from the cinema after watching Moonlight, the 2017 Best Picture Academy Award winner.

Normally, I would write a review of the film and from it draw allusions and relationships that resonate with me. However, on this occasion, I would suggest everyone who has the opportunity go and watch the film.

What I have to write below touches on some very personal things that in my own coming of age I feel I must express and I am sorry if anyone after reading this is adversely affected. We bottle up too much of our experiences in silence and hurt, giving no option to expression and lessons to be learnt.

As a child

Moonlight comes to us in three chapters of life, of childhood, of adolescence and of adulthood, the story of understanding sexuality and the relationship between mother and child in the midst of addiction.

As a child, I first recognised issues with my sexuality that began to find expression originally in sexual abuse at seven, and more towards an affinity to people of the same sex from around that age. In the process, there were people who took advantage of me and took their sexual favours whilst I obliged like a catamite.

I was 3 when I noticed my mother’s own addiction, it was religion and the constant visits to prophets and soothsayers, the inclination towards syncretism and the rituals therein, the recitation of Psalms and the invocation of inscrutable angelic beings, none of which inspired confidence in me for what a useful religious devotion could be.

In my teens

As I moved into my teens, I grew rebellious and difficult, the relationship with my parents deteriorated and my mother’s addiction took its toll on her reasonableness, her marriage, our family and consequently her career. My baby sister’s medical condition sunk her under the mesmerising spell of a ‘prophet’ who I considered false, she lost her agency as my sister was shunted between hospital and grotto, my mother finding justification for her actions in such atrocious hair-raising conspiracy theories.

I sank into depression, failed at school, took religion and almost lost my bearings. Meanwhile, I found a different friendship, occasions for a sexual outlet, all guilt-ridden and self-loathing, yet taking a hold I could not deny. I, without a doubt, had same-sex attraction that I could not explain and understand other than beginning to come to terms with who I was and who I am.

I got older

As I entered adulthood, I found some stability and an accommodation for expressing both my religiosity and sexuality, a family that took me into their bosom and gave me a grounding that became the foundation of who I am today. My mother in her own way that done really terrible things to me, things she dismisses but no child can forget.

It irks me when people interfere thinking there are filial duties incumbent on me without any acknowledgement of the deeper issues that necessitate estrangement. My situation is not necessarily unique, but my experience is exclusively mine to understand and that hopefully would be respected by others.

Whilst I was bullied in secondary school, I was saved the physicality of beatings, people exercised power in other ways. In adulthood, before I left Nigeria, I was being blackmailed but I refused to pay up knowing it was the gateway to something beyond my control. I was ready to face the consequences, just as I had years before when I was caught in a sexual liaison with another man.

I accepted myself

On leaving Nigeria, I decided no more to live in the shadows, I reached a point of self-expression and acceptance of who I was and that freed me to enter relationships, find love and develop productive and useful friendships amongst people like me.

Beyond that, I was freer with information about my sexuality in my workplace and it meant I did not have to live a double life. It also meant my managers quickly nipped any homophobia in the bud. I was fortunate to be respected for who I was regardless of my sexuality.

Sex had its attractions, an outlet, a search of companionship, a kind of addiction and a self-destruct button that was pressed more times than I could reckon. In that scheme of things, I became HIV+, developed AIDS, had cancer, lost everything and rebuilt my life from scratch again.

Sadly for my father

My siblings probably do tolerate my mother, I cannot, she has no capacity to reflect and that is to reflect on anything she might have done wrong, she feels entitled and makes demands of entitlement to fealty from her children, failing which we are emotionally blackmailed. I stopped giving in to this kind of manipulation some time ago.

My father who by commission has done little wrong, but by omission failed to save me from the menace of my mother’s caprices sometimes finds himself on the cold shoulder that is given my mother. His ability to reflect and accept wrong is sometimes limited by his inability to empathise with settings in which he cannot find a frame of reference. I probably should be more forgiving of that inadequacy, but everything is quite emotionally draining, it is sometimes best to let sleeping dogs lie.

I don’t hate her

Invariably, I do not think I would ever get to wipe the tears from the eyes of my mother from her acknowledgement of the hurt that I have suffered at her own ‘motherly’ acts. I do not hate my mother, then I cannot convince myself that I love her either. We exist because of the accident of circumstance, not something I had the freedom or will to affect beyond the fact that I was born.

My moonlight is a story with parallels and analogies, it is not a movie, it is my life and the way I have been affected. In my moonlit night, I find the peace and tranquillity of accepting who I am, and in my coming of age, I cannot deny who I am. The pursuit of happiness endures and a better story will be written, either by me or by those who learn something from my life.

Review: Wole Soyinka on The Sexual Minority and Legislative Zealotry

The Nobel Laureate

Now, Professor Wole Soyinka is not really the easiest literary genius to read even though I did have some of his texts in my secondary school curriculum.

He has for a long time been a prolific intellectual who has spoken and written about oppression, misgovernment, corruption and the lack of accountability in leadership in Nigeria.

At 78, the man has not diminished in his critique of events and ideas whilst still retaining a considered voice of reason and deep analysis of issues especially in Nigeria.

26 years after being awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, I still find his writings difficult to access but full of meaning and objective discourse.

Consenting adults, the crux

This time the professor sketched his piece on the matter of homosexuality in Nigeria with an article titled – The Sexual Minority and Legislative Zealotry.

Wole Soyinka lays the groundwork for his thinking by stating that the legislation on sexual conduct between consenting adults is interference.

Then he posits that whilst foreign commentary on the activities of the Nigerian legislature in this regard is hysterical, hypocritical and disproportionate that foreign criticism should not deflect from the fact that as rational beings and particularly rational Nigerians this issue should primarily be about “the right to private choices of the free, adult citizen in any land.”

He suggests that the legislative fervour that has accompanied this matter is a distractive ploy to obscure actions of the government when out of their depth because of the economic crises or to inject unpopular policies that might catch the public unawares.

Conflated issues

Taking no prisoners, he addressed the legislators to attend to the numerous and urgent businesses for which they were elected and take their noses out of sexual practices of consenting adults whilst warning that the said bill is redolent of legislative fascism which has no place in a democracy.

The bill in his view conflates two separate issues, the first being homosexual practice and the other being same-sex marriage, something he considers deliberate.

Throughout the article, it appears the professor is stridently against the encroachment of the law on the private practices and choices of consenting adults whilst acknowledging that the law does protect minors from abuse and adults from harassment.

Biology trumps faith

Attempting a broad definition of sexuality, he pitches tent in the nature rather than nurture camp of sexual preference by suggesting some people are born with an imprecise gender definition even if the said people do have sexual organs that suggest they are either male or female.

This is probably one of the more archaic arguments for sexuality definition but it is in a language that the more sententious of Nigerians might understand.

Tackling the morality views that are used to promote support for such legislation, having averred the issue of biological truth he is categorical in saying articles of faith are no substitute for scientific truths.

Democracy or theocracy

The democracy we have in Nigeria is being tested, in that we must “choose either to create a society that is based on secular principles, or else surrender ourselves to the authority of – no matter whose – theocratic claims.”

A theocracy should go the whole hog with all beliefs and doctrines adopted and enforced regardless of whether the other person is of similar or different faiths, the idea that where scriptures agree is compulsory and where they do not is optional is a recipe for chaos.

“The national train must run either on secular rails or derail at multiple theocratic switches. No theology can be privileged over another in the running of society.  This means, theology and its derivates cannot be privileged over material reality and its derivatives.”

A law against nothing

On the issue of same-sex marriage, the professor says there is no evidence of anyone attempting to legally enter in such contracts requiring the state to honour such liaisons at a court registry nor has any religious organisation or the clergy been compelled to perform such a ceremony.

People have of their own free will the right to privately ostracise or embrace such relationships but the state overreaches itself in attempting to criminalise such liaisons.

Moralists are advised to have a sense of proportion and embrace objectivity, that being the preponderance of biological fact over moral sentiment, avoiding the tendency to incite to mass hysteria and manipulation.

The debate

This is in my view that first time a highly respected and globally renowned Nigerian figure has addressed the matter of homosexuality and same-sex marriage with an open mind, if not objectively.

The issue is one of rights, it is about sexual conduct between consenting adults, that our democracy should be superior to the tendency to be swayed by disparate belief systems that do not essential agree on all elements of doctrine to be adopted as a constitutional reference point, that the state should not interfere and that our legislators should get on with the job they were elected to perform.

Nigerians are asked to be more objective, less moralistic, adopt empirical evidence of science over sentiment and even if they have private animus, it remain their prerogative but to support the legislation of moral laws will have more far-reaching consequences beyond the supposed targets to be used as instruments of persecution, blackmail or even worse, present a licence for jungle justice and mob lynching.

The debate is beginning and the reality cannot be obfuscated with legislative distractions; there are homosexuals in Nigeria and no legislation will exterminate one of the many enduring representations of humanity.

Please read the article in its entirety, there is much sense in The Sexual Minority and Legislative Zealotry.

Thank you.

Opinion: Our Children Deserve Better - Respect Them

A mental case

A recent news story has brought the leadership of secondary schools under the searchlight where a principal has not only been indefinitely suspended but there is a view that she should undergo psychiatric evaluation.

Mrs. Olufunke Aladeojebi, recently, the principal of Ajuwon High School, Ajuwon in Ifo Local Government Area of Ogun State in Nigeria probably within reason as the person ultimately responsible for the education and welfare of her students might have been concerned that some of the females in her school on reaching puberty were taking liberties with their sexual curiosity.

It’s a dilemma, alright

The principal, in loco parentis was presented with a dilemma of how to react to the onset of adolescence and the raging hormones that accompany such natural human development; she could have reacted in any number of ways that could have presented her with the better opportunity to inform, educate and probably warn her students of the possible issues and dangers that accompany exploring and expressing one’s sexuality.

Apparently, she is notably a strict disciplinarian which in Nigerian parlance almost has nothing to do with discipline and instruction but everything to do with severe punishment as a means of re-education that exploits the pain thresholds of the recipient whilst dealing an atrocious emotional battering to all including the innocent.

These innocents are then literally scared out of their wits unable to think intellectually of the consequences of their actions apart from associating it with the fear of shame - that is usually the only weapon in the strict disciplinarian's arsenal of imparting wisdom - Fear nurtured by terror.

This is sadism

Deterrence has its functions but when school leaders use their authority as an instrument of pathological sadism to maintain control of a situation that has probably gone awry, more suffer unnecessarily and can be so seriously traumatised without essential mental health help that this might have life-long consequences.

The principal, on suspicion, and I state again, on suspicion; not that any of the girls were caught in the act of sexual intercourse. The principal suspecting some of her students were engaged in pre-marital sex and she was particular about the girls and not concerned with the boys; she invited a nurse as surety whilst she and the nurse proceeded without the consent of the girls’ parents to conduct a virginity test.

Crude is making light of it

This was not some questionnaire to elicit the truth of her subjective reasoning posited on a warped moral duty to maintain a sense purity in her school. Rather she proceeded to subject the girls to the heinous and reprehensible indignity of probing their private parts with fingers as if to determine if the hymen had been broken and with glee and euphoria greeting the confirmation of her instincts catch the girls in the most compromised of situations allowing her to probably expel the girls from the school and in the process temporarily destroy their future prospects.

It so happened that whilst engaging in this act of criminality that goes to the extremes of sexual abuse and the violation of the civil liberties of the girls, the unprofessionally crude and barbaric act led to injury presented as bleeding which can only be due to these women having damaged the hymen they were not expecting to be intact.

At the very least and this is not to condone or offer the remotest absolution to these terribly wicked women whose savagery is unspeakable, this rotten test should have been conducted by or under supervision of a qualified gynaecologist.

Society’s acquiescence

This kind of egregious violation of the students, especially females is played out without respite in many secondary schools all around the country and even in universities that somehow act as if undergraduates are adults who need to be treated as prepubescent or adolescent.

Sadly, we have a society that condones these acts in the name of maintaining some communal morality imposed by fear rather than by information and knowledge.

It is then so unusual that parents have raised the alarm at this sententious abuse of authority that the Ogun State Ministry of Education have moved to act in the best interests of the civil liberties and rights of the students than default to type about falling moral standards that need to be addressed urgently.

We must help better

As the principal is sent for psychiatric evaluation presaging committal and consequently barred from ever being in charge of students, I do hope the students affected are offered professional counselling and therapy to assuage the trauma they have suffered.

It is important that we recognise that children have inalienable and inviolable rights that should never be infringed upon in the name of maintaining some moral standard regardless of religious instruction or sense of moral duty.

The outrage is more than justified because we are at a time when between the conflicting influences our children face, the best we can do for them is to treat them first as individuals, respect them as human-beings, instruct them with empathy, educate them with understanding and inform them to enlightenment.

We must learn better

We should unschool ourselves from the primitive and outmoded forms of corporal punishment as a means of effective instruction to engage their intellect, offer them responsibility, entertain their searching questions, expand their horizons, praise their good work, inform their curiosity and when we are inclined to condemn anything they do we should be mindful of what change we want to see and lead with a greater sense of duty, love and compassion.

All children grow, they reach puberty and there are emotional issues that come with that development; on matters of sexuality what our wards need is information and education, we must agree that is not offered through intrusion and violation of their bodies – certain things need that we address them clearly without embarrassment than hope that our wards will gain knowledge through some form of ethereal osmosis.

We must all be involved

The matter of how we violate our womenfolk for the maintenance of some societal norm is an extensive topic and it is seriously hypocritical to place the complete burden of responsibility and dire consequence on the female when in the majority of cases, it takes both male and female to engage in the sexual intercourse that concerned that principal.

Our boys are not entirely innocent of exploring their sexual interests; they are almost always praised for their sexual conquests without moral sanction whilst their female counterparts are left to carry the shame of premarital sexual liaisons that sometimes result in pregnancy.

Boys and girls alike deserve better of their supposed role models on these matters of sexual development, morality, education and direction, if we address their bodies rather than really address their intellect, we have inadvertently reclassified them as no better than animals – eventually, when retribution comes, a psychological evaluation of our mental capacities will be the least of our problems.

I will appreciate your views on this topic.

Thank you.