CHAPTER ONE
“I swear, I don’t know.”
I know. I just can’t say yet. “This is a matter of life and death, Makin.”
“Stop scaring him!” His mother snaps, her gele now a mess around her neck. It stood regally on her head at the beginning.
“Tell me everything, for God’s sake!” I shut the dossier. The rusted ceiling fan isn’t creaking today. My cravat itches. My cowlick is glued to my forehead in sweat. My collar, dangerously soaked. With sweat. If only they knew. That when I sweat, it means I am using 400% of my brain.
“I-I-I-I don’t know how, I swear.” His nail beds are oozing blood. He lifts his thumb to his lips for the thousandth time, and his mum swats it away.
“O kin ro nu ni?” Don’t you ever think? She wipes sweat from her nose with a golden handkerchief.
Most lawyers pray for rich clients. Because rich clients have big problems.
Mountains of them.
I didn’t pray for rich clients. I studied law so I could get the innocent from prison. Get justice for rape victims. Victims of domestic violence. Rescue children from child traffickers. Rescue victims of forced prostitution. Justice for raped widows. Justice for the scammed elderly. It brought me fame. But little money. Connections. But not much money. Perhaps because people think the famous are always rich. So I began my NGO, and paid myself a salary from the fundraisers. I am not the problem of this country.
My family kept asking when I would get married, and stopped asking when I turned twenty nine. When my younger sister said she wanted to study law, they borrowed money and shipped her to a school of midwifery.
“Let her see how children are born, so she will marry and have children.” My mother huffed.
Okay.
In my eleven years of practice I have handled forty one cases. Twenty two rape cases. Of those, nine are pedophilia. Nothing, nothing, in this tiny universe can make me boil like a child being abused. I play detective, soldier, lawyer, forensic scientist and hit man when solving a case concerning a child. Remove hitman.
Which brought me to this child in front of me. Makin Gold. Son of Makin Gold, brother of the governor. I was thinking of which fundraiser to host so I can pay my office rent when my secretary brought his mother to my office two days ago.
I could have hissed at the sun. You bathe yourself in gold, because your surname is gold? Her Hollandis lace, gold. Her gele, gold. Her shoes, gold. Her earrings, gold. Her bag, black – thank God. She wasn’t wearing a necklace. Her left ear was missing. It almost cost her in-law the recent reelections, when a pastor called her a witch. She lost the ear in a fight with her father though, when he tried raping her after her sister ran away. Forty years ago. How do I know?
I’m a lawyer.
A good one.
I know how to dig.
Dig for gold.
I turn down rich, ostentatious, proud clients – not that I get many of them – but for her near rape experience, I’ll listen. Women supporting women, after all.
I almost cover my nose when her perfume slaps me.
She surveys the room with her owl eyes. “They didn’t tell me you were………..here.” Here. Trenches. She slips a card to me. Ferguson and Associates. I helped them with a child kidnapping case two years ago. My secretary offers her water or tea. She declines, scrunching her face as if she was offered urine. “They said I should come to you. You know why.”
“State your business.” I slouch in my chair, deliberately. “I’m a lawyer, not a mindreading witch.”
It stung. She throws an envelope at me. “It’s a cheque. One million. And if you can get him out, five more.”
“Did he do it?” I do not touch the envelope.
Out of nowhere, she starts crying. I used to have a box of tissues on the table, but when almost every client turned here to a therapy clinic, I stopped. Also tissues got expensive.
“Most mothers say they know their children, but I swear, I swear, I know my son. I know him. He didn’t do it. He didn’t. He can’t kill a cockroach.”
Same thing the mother of the boy who killed his teacher said. And the boy who lured his younger schoolmates to the van of child traffickers. And the boy who forced his neighbour’s daughter to give his dog a blowjob. They couldn’t hurt a cockroach. They are scared of rats. They can’t drink hot tea. They don’t know where their penis is.
I sipped watery tea. Of course I saw it in the news. But I was not sure. Until I saw him.
******************************************************
CHAPTER TWO
“If you don’t tell me everything, I can’t help you.” I loosen my cravat. Roll up my white sleeves. Tap play on my recorder. Get my notepad and pen ready.
“I……..” He scratches his head, glances at his mother. Today her gold lipstick is smudged. “Mummy can you come back later?”
She has been betrayed. She glares at me as she leaves the cement room. As soon as the door closes, his shoulders stand firm. The sweat somehow stops. His back sits straight. His fingers stop trembling. This is the part of my profession I dread.
Yes, I did it.
But you gats get me out. Abeg.
“I didn’t do it.” He takes my cup of water and gulps. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I relax in my chair. Time to hear a story.
“I’ve known her since senior class three. We agreed not to date till I got to university. Then we started dating –“
“Before university?”
“In university. First year. First semester. January.”
“Be specific. Tiny details have solved the hardest cases.” I twist my cravat in my tiny fingers.
“So……we were dating. It was nice. We had only one rule. No sex. But we did…..other things, before I went to university, in class three.”
I nod. Your mum knows you well indeed. He wants to go on. I pause. “Who else knew then?”
“Nobody.”
“Where did you usually do it?"
“At her house. When she came for holidays. She is in boarding school.”
I nod.
“So in my second year she met this guy, cheated on me with him.”
“How did you find out?”
“She told me. We were having an argument and she told me.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
I stretch in my chair. I yawn. “Stop going in circles. You know what is at stake here?”
He nods, his dreads jiggling. “I got angry. I told her I’ll kill the guy.”
“But you didn’t.”
He sighs. “We broke up a week after that. Then got back together. Then broke up. Like…..six times.”
“And you were making out all through?”
“Normal.” Then he tightens. “But I didn’t do it, I swear.”
****************************************************
They fired their two lawyers after the first hearing. I slick my cravat down. The centre of attention and attraction approaches the witness box. In a soft white gown. The saint of innocence.
I point at her glasses. “Can you see without those?”
She shakes her head.
“Answer the question with your mouth. Nobody is deaf and dumb here.”
“No."
“So you can’t see without those glasses?”
“Yes. I know where you’re leading to. I was not wearing my glasses, but I saw him. It was him.”
I don’t see the deadened shock of a rape victim. I see the acidic anger of a………..hmmm…….
“How old are you, Chevron?”
“Fourteen.”
My client is seventeen.
“I am new to the case, so can you please run me through the whole story?”
“Objection, my lord.” Her lawyer is so heavy he can’t even stand up to address the judge.
"Speculative.”
“Objection overruled.”
“We are all ears, Chevron.”
Little tears slip from her eyes. “As you can see, I’m a minor –“
“Your birth certificate isn’t on your forehead, but go on.”
Her lawyer hisses.
She dabs at her face with a pristine handkerchief. Why do people think crying in front of a court attracts pity? “I met him when I was in class one. I am very brilliant, so my education isn’t slow. Most of my mates had not entered secondary school, so –“
Clever. “We don’t have all day. Chevron.”
She waits for her lawyer to cough, “Objection”, and when it doesn’t come, she continues. “It is so embarrassing I cannot talk about it in front of all these people. I am already traumatized.”
“But you want justice. Justice has an uncomfortable process. Go on.” I urge.
“So he…..we attended the same church, and we were in the same choir group. Then he said he liked me – “
“She always sat on his laps!” Makin’s mother yelled from behind. “She would feign colds so she would borrow his cardigan, then – “
“Order.”
“I didn’t want to be rude, so I told him I’ll think about it. I was afraid he would…you know…..force me….so I accepted, and we said we would date when he gets to university. So we started dating, and then, I said I wanted to break up, cause I didn’t feel safe. He got violent, and hit me. I have scars as proof. He threatened to get some boys to gang rape me –“
There is a gasp.
She is no longer crying. She is painting a villain. “I could not tell my mum because I was terrified…..I could not tell anybody.”
New tears.
“Then, on march, 29th, he came to see me in my boarding school. He lured me to a hotel, and promised he’ll be nice to me. Then he raped me.” There is an avalanche of tears now. Snot dribbles down her nose. “Now I’m pregnant.”
I expected Makin to stand, scream and say, “I didn’t rape her!” But when I turn, he is crying. Like, tears. Guilt? Pain? Betrayal? I’m a lawyer, not a witch.
“How did he lure you?”
“huh?”
That’s the problem with lies. Unless written in stone somewhere, they are sand castles.
“You said he lured you. How?”
She glances about. “He told me he had a surprise. For our upcoming anniversary.”
“When did you start dating?”
She bites her tongue. I see it, clear.
“My lord, this illegal couple began dating in January last year. January 17th, a week after the beginning of the first semester. The witness lies to this honourable court, my lord. What other lies have she told?”
“Objection –“
“Overruled .” The judge says.
“He lured a smart girl like you with a surprise for an anniversary that has already passed?” I twist my cravat.
“He did! I was afraid he would hurt me –“
“You were in school, Chevron. School. He could not have tried to hurt you. Or lured you away. Unless you weren’t in school. Were you in school?”
I swear her mother gasped.
“Object –“
“Where were you on 29th March?”
“School.”
“You can’t remember all the lies, Chevron.” I open a blank page and read from it. “You were at the Regent Hotel, room 29 –“
She wants to challenge it, to tell me it was room 19, but she can’t. “The concierge helped you with your purple school bag, and you took his chocolate from him. He didn’t see a terrified girl in a school uniform. You were……excited. Two hours later – I don’t know what took you so long – the concierge, and a number of staff, and guests saw you swimming with my client in the hotel’s pool. You were not acting like a kidnapped girl, Chevron. You were enjoying –“
“He forced me to smile and act normal! Else he’ll hurt me! If you were in my shoes –“
“I wouldn’t have collected chocolate from the receptionist.” I clear my throat. “You were not lured away from school, Chevron. You called my client and told him you were breaking up with him. He was devastated, and wanted to talk to you. So you told him to come meet you at the Regent Hotel. You flew the fence during lunch break with a purple school bag, changed clothes, applied make up, and took a bike. The wind almost blew your face cap off, so you wore a face mask as backup. When you got there, my client was already waiting by the gate. You hugged him, and went in. You snatched a chocolate bar from the receptionist, and told him your boyfriend will pay. That’s two chocolates now. In the room you ordered chicken. The AC was on. You gave him a blowjob, but he didn’t come. So you gave him a handjob–“
Makin starts crying.
“Then helped him dispose the condom. Except you didn’t. You put the sperm in a tube cooler, a monekinized cooler you’d stolen from your mother’s lab. Very portable. You premeditated this a long time–“
“I have never had sex with her! The child is not mine!” Makin finds his voice. His mother restrains him like he’s gone mad. Anyone would go mad.
“You kept the sperm for approximately three months after the break up, thinking of the best way to use it to ruin my client’s life. You almost sold it to a sex worker. But no, you didn’t want a common whore take the glory of the scandal. So you inserted it into your vagina –“
“For fuck’s sake, objection, my lord!”
“That will be all, my lord.” I slink back to my bench.
Chevron ambles to her seat. Poor Cinderella.
Next witness. Her mother.
After she swears to tell lies I begin. “Do you love your daughter?
She blinks. ”Yes.”
“And you wouldn’t cover up for her even when she is in the wrong?”
“Objection!” Their lawyer screams. Then he almost chokes to death. Too much sugar and fat. He looks like a mound of greasy sandwich.
“Sustained.”
“Can you confirm your daughter’s story, ma’am ?’
“Yes.”
“How? Were you there? You knew she had a boyfriend?”
She glances at the lawyer.
“I brought my daughter up in the way of the lord. They met at a choir meeting.”
Blah blah blah. “You are a micro biologist, yes?”
“What does that have to do with this?” She just wants the best for her daughter.
“Your daughter follows you to your laboratory, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Since she is done with secondary school, she has a lot of free time, so she follows you to the lab, yes?”
“Yes.”
Where this going?
“She knows how to use lab equipment, yes?”
A reluctant, slow nod. She glances at the lawyer to save her.
“Objection, my lord. Frivolous questions unrelated to the case.”
“Sustained. Counsel, make your point and leave.”
“What is a monekinized cooler, madam?”
She wants to lie. Terribly. “I….don’t……I…..it is a cooler for storing body fluids.”
“Like…” I prod.
“Blood.”
“And?”
“That is the main purpose.”
“And ovary eggs, my lord. Sperm, saliva, sweat, platelets, fat cells, even urine. It comes with a special preserver which keeps its content alive and breathing for up to a year.”
“Not in all cases.” Her mother interjects.
“But the sperm lived. And your daughter proved the efficiency of the cooler. She should get an an endorsement deal.”
“I……” She glances at the lawyer. Never did she imagine ever a situation like this.
“No further questions, my lord.”
Makin mother sighs. “What do you mean no further questions? She was shaking!” Her harsh, unwashed breath scalds my neck.
Their lawyer takes ten minutes to stand and call Makin for cross examination. “Do you know this girl?”
Makin swallows his tears. I begged him not to cry.
“Yes, I know her.”
“You know she is a minor?”
The court dies in silence.
“No.”
Good boy.
The lawyer reels. “You didn’t know?”
Makin finds his boldness. “Look at her. Does she look like a minor?”
“Answer the ques-“
“I didn’t know she was a minor, and she didn’t tell me she was.”
Slow down……….
“I don’t even know how old she is now.” Makin swallows.
The lawyer takes a long breath. “You knew she was fourteen –“
“Fourteen year old girls don’t use condoms to blow balloons.”
Good boy. Attack.
The lawyer braces. A viper, about to strike. “Have you had sex with her or not?”
“No. Never.”
“Eh?”
“She approached me, sir. She got my phone number and was pestering me –“
“Liar!” Chevron squeals.
“She told me she has a dominant streak, that she likes BDSM.”
Chevron mother’s jaw drops dead. Yup, you all know your children like the back of your hand.
“You knew she was a minor, and you seduced her! She was traumatized, afraid, terrified, and you, who was supposed to be a protector, a brotherly figure, exploited her! Let me not even begin to cite the child protection laws in this country. You are a pedophile, a rapist, and a shameless member of society!”
“I didn’t get her pregnant.”
“On the 29th of March, did you not lure her to the Regent Hotel?”
“No. She asked me to come meet her there.”
“She was in school.”
“I don’t know where she was. I just went to meet her there after she told me she wanted to break up. So I had to hear her out.”
“Who initiated the illicit relationship?”
“What relationship?”
Good boy.
“You raped her, Makin.”
“No, I did not. She raped herself.” Makin steels himself for the ugliest confession. His family’s political career is officially over. “I have seen her naked, but I have never had sex with her. Ever. Never. We only made out. That day, she only gave me a hand job, and I came, and she cleaned up. I didn’t know she put the sperm in a test tube and preserved it, and impregnated herself. I am not responsible for her pregnancy. I am not the father of that child.”
“But the DNA test –“
“Proves nothing. I didn’t fuck her. If we are being honest, I’m the rape victim here.”
The lawyer’s neck is a like ten compressed doughnuts oozing oil. He faces the judge. “My lord, I have tabled the evidences –“
“Objection!” I surface. What useless evidence?
Makin goes back to his seat. His mother is a chocolate sculpture, frozen in stone, a ghost. I understand. You knew your children. But you can’t know these teenagers.
The judge has heard enough to make him want to send his children to the moon. “Case adjourned to fifteenth of October.”
A whole month? “Appeal to pass motion for bail, your honour.”
He just stares at me.
Okay, sorry.
Makin’s mother gives him a pack of doughnuts. She is lucky, they let her see her son as she pleases. Makin’s father has been here only forty times. Or four hundred.
“He never told me.” She clears her throat with water. “How, how did you know?”
“Cause I’m a lawyer.” I twist my cravat. “Now we need to call experts, to prove to the judge that you can store sperm in a pod for months the way you store ovary eggs.”
Her gele is askew. “They are not poor. Why is she doing it?”
“She is a psychopath. She wants to ruin him. Completely. She needs help.” I twist my cravat.
“She said I’ll break up with her soon cause I’m in university, so she broke up with me first. Then she said she will never allow me have a real university girlfriend. So she did this.” Makin shields his face from his mother’s blow.
I pace to the only window in the cell. I have a hot pedophile case I shelved aside. The culprit is the security man, but he has a lawyer that’s too good. Oloshi .
“Chevron is an insecure brat. So she got herself pregnant to tie you to her forever.” I smile. “Clever, and utterly stupid.” I whip around to face them. When this is over we shall have a counter suit. For defamation, libel, obloquy, everything.”
“Let us finish this one first.” His mother sighs.
“Your son is not going to prison, madam.”
She cries soft streams. Stretches her palms forward. “But she is a minor, Talase. She is a minor. They will use that one to rope him.”
“Defilement and sex do not mean the same thing. And that fool throwing the word ‘rape’ around doesn’t know jack about the case on ground.” I pack my papers. “I will do more than my best, madam.” I put on my black hat. “Good day.” I wink at Makin.
CHAPTER THREE
When they said days roll into months, they weren’t joking. October 15. The end.
I twist my cravat. Let only justice be done. Let only justice be done. Then, the counter law suit. They’ll pay. Hard.
The judge is wearing a new set of glasses. To see things clearly, I hope.
It is short. Undeniably short.
“In view of all tabled before the court, I hereby sentence you, Makin Gold, to six years –
Jesus Christ –
“Juvenile community service.”
Juvenile community service? Wha….what is that?
God. Oh, Jesus, thank God. Thank God.
His mother slumps, though.
On our way out of the court I catch Chevron smiling sweetly at Makin. I love you, she mouths.
She blows him a kiss.
I shudder.
I need a break. My eyes are weak.
My secretary taps my shoulder. “Ferguson called. They want you on. Bakery owner comes back from travel to mother in law to meet her husband n top of their eleven year old daughter.”
Hot water enters my eyes. The court steps melt away.
My secretary hands me some papers and photos. “Her husband is a bank manager. The woman was confused. Called her pastor, or prophet. Pastor told them the house has been defiled. They sent the girl away. Boarding school. Pastor told the husband to come for deliverance. Told the woman to sleep in the church for seven days. Then they said amen,”
But that’s not the end. It never ends there.
“The girl is now fifteen years old. She has stabbed a boy – he is still in a coma – and she is at a police station.”
I don’t want to know why. But I do.
“She raped her classmate.”
I twist my cravat so hard it tears.
“And her father? The husband? After they sent her to the boarding school, he was still craving young blood. So he began offering scholarships to female students in junior secondary schools.”
Oh, God.
“How he pulled it off, I swear I don’t know. He headed the interview himself. No online registration. He had quit his job. Had an office space. Who doesn’t want free education in a private school? Except he would find an excuse to get himself alone with the girl. Or get the parent to exit the office. Then he would threaten the girl with voodoo. But this one girl spoke. And her mum raised hell. Her father works with the Federal Prison Service, but they haven’t been paid salary for more than eight months. We have reports on more than nine girls, but the bastard has a fleet of lawyers……………………..”
I spit. It lands on my shoe. I look at my hand, and see that I have torn the newspaper.
This is why I chose not to get married. Or have children. So I will have all the time in eternity to make sure people like this never hurt another person. Again. Ever.
There goes my break.
THE END OF PART ONE
Next story by Friday at 7pm WAT!
See you next week!
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