Game over

Faster than the northern sun, tempers were on the rise. It was all against one and the angry mob was getting angrier by the second.

Flash back to a few hours before, Dima walked the streets of the city. The system had failed him and he was way past being angry. A school certificate holder, yet without a job. Even after going from office to office for weeks in his ‘legedis benz’ and depositing his CV, he never got a call back. Some looked at him with so much disdain and others looked right through him like no one was there. It really wasn’t his fault. To the best of his ability, he had tried to make the most of what he had been given.

His parents with whom he and his many brothers and sisters had grown up with in the city had been as poor as church mice. His old man was a mechanic who chose to remain in a hidden corner that only a few could locate. His old lady sold food in a shop popularly known as ‘mama put’, which should have been a thriving business but for the fact that it made people sick.

Her little kiosk was situated in the midst of filth. She tried her best to make it sanitary but by the time she had gotten the memo, her food had already been tagged as poisonous.  Hence, very little money came into the house for feeding and so the children had to rely on the free education given by the government.

The teachers at that time came to school whenever they felt like which was not often enough and the lack of supervision by the head master who did as he liked as well caused this to be the norm. So, many at times, the children were left to their own devices. They came in and left as they pleased. They generally did as they liked too.

When the time came for examinations, so as to save face for the government, the head of school conspired with the teachers to make the answers available for the students. The students gladly took what they were given and upon the posting of results, they rejoiced. This was the trend right until Dima was done with secondary school. His parents were ecstatic because they believed that their first child was going to attend the university and therefore change their story.

Unfortunately for the entire family, when the JAMB results came out, Dima fell far behind the cut off mark. It was no problem, his parents said. They went and borrowed more money on the premise that their son would enter university, come out and pay off all their debts.

This was the trend for about five years until the lenders stopped lending and started to ask for their money. The parents of Dima had none to give and the person for whom they had borrowed the money had nothing to give as well because he was unable to pass the university entry examination.

His parents had become angry and drove him out of their one bed-room apartment to go and look for all the money that were borrowed on his behalf. Dima was lost as he had no knowledge and no skills, not even the shabby mechanic work his father did. He had nowhere to go. He spent his days moving from office to office and he spent his nights under the bridge.

This fateful day, Dima was extremely hungry and had begun to see apparitions. He then walked up to the nearest mama put and ordered his food and when it was time to pay, he had nothing to give. The food seller raised an alarm and the people around came to her rescue. Having been frustrated one way or the other that day, they decided to pour all their anger on Dima and in no time there was a tyre around his neck and he was then sent ablaze.

The question we must ask ourselves is, who killed Dima, the system or himself?

Oluwaseyi Lawal