The Ilorin Shock Episode 8

Episode Eight: The Hard Days

These were the hard days.

The days when laughter disappeared completely and survival became the only goal.

Living there was like walking on broken glass you tried your best not to step wrong, but somehow, pain still found you. Whenever anything happened between us and our teacher’s children, there was no investigation. No listening. No balance.

Judgment came first.

Punishment followed immediately.

They would beat us heavily…

And beat their own children lightly.

Just enough to say they were fair.

But we knew the truth.

One day, my brother was playing with our teacher’s child. They were only children laughing, innocent, careless the way children are. A plate was involved. Not even a weak one. An unbreakable plate.

Yet somehow, it slipped.

And it broke.

That sound kpa! was like a death sentence.

Before explanations could form, before fear could settle, beating started. My brother was beaten mercilessly. His body received the anger meant for everyone. Their child was beaten too, but only briefly almost like acting.

I stood there helpless, watching my brother suffer for an accident.

That night, I didn’t sleep well.

But the worst day for me came quietly.

Silently.

One night, I woke up suddenly.

I needed to urinate.

Outside.

That was the rule.

I was still small. My body was small. My hands were small. I went to the gate and stretched, trying to open it but my hands couldn’t reach properly. I tried again. And again.

Nothing.

I stood there.

Minutes passed.

Then hours.

The night was cold. My legs were shaking. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to shout. I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I remembered the rules don’t disturb people at night.

So I held it.

And held it.

Until my body couldn’t obey me anymore.

I urinated on myself.

I stood there in shame, soaked, silent, afraid, waiting for morning.

When day finally broke, one of our teacher’s wives came out and saw me.

She didn’t ask why.

She didn’t ask how long.

She didn’t ask how old.

When it was time to go to school, they called me inside.

They brought out koboko.

They beat me badly for urinating on my body.

Not because I was careless.

But because I tried not to disturb anyone.

Each stroke landed with confusion more than pain. I didn’t understand how doing my best still made me wrong. I didn’t understand why fear was punished.

I went to school that day with a quiet heart and loud thoughts.

There was so much more pain.

Too many moments.

Too many silent tears.

Too many nights I wished I was back in Oyo State.

But I endured.

Because sometimes, children don’t survive by fighting back.

They survive by enduring quietly.

And those days…

They never truly leave you.

They only become memories you learn to carry.

To be continued… Episode 9