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A black revolver was and still is a weapon or tool or object that brings sore memories; it brings memories that mirror the point of death. Hungry people without jobs, frustrated people with no hope of progress — a vivid acceptation of 1984. Maybe idealists are the biggest fools on Earth because I recently look at myself as one. Waking up from my sleep and reciting similar lines of activism for the human race; a phase that I inculcated portraying never give up. I know power, it comes with thirst and position. I know the Naira notes, it comes with satisfaction but never satisfactorily. I know hustle, it comes with odd jobs and dead conscience. I know cultism, it grows out of ignorance.

I know dad said cultism is not a new term, and from Google, it is a well dwelt topic. But this scroll is not to those who already have dead conscience but to those who appreciate wisdom and to those who are still on the fence, even them that can or are willing to change. Cultism is well pictured as an amalgam of persons with selfish interests sticking together to talk power, money, politics, control, and cupidity. Power is good but when it is a tool you must get by all means then its purpose is defeated. Societal belief is that you can only make it big in life if you are dependent on people — they hold that big offices are duly protected only by joining one top cult or the other; just the order of the day. With the good package and supposed perfect timing, one would hastily conclude that it comes with more good than harm — harm if at all. A wrong footing, a wrong resolve — not all that glitters should be modeled gold but who gives a hoot? We are professionals at lying not to people but ourselves; we have become blind to truth and have become death’s puns. To bring my submission out of mystery, cultism is evil and for the fools. It is an act that every Nigerian should run away from. This is why…

He is grown up and tired of Daddy’s preaching — new boy wants out. Nothing more than some hot drinks to groove, hot pants for catching up, few cracks for highness, few bucks for the pocket, and the likes were the intent. Is it not university, can we not have a bit of freedom? His fondness for recognition but met with rejection; a new found love for the quixotic life style to impress, an usurpation of Momsi’s car to hit the Campus’ express. It was not enough to earn him the hotties, it was just enough to earn him a brotherhood — you would think that this is a mirror of the yesteryear or a cliché that the home video brought in the years of cassette.

Conducts grown out of ignorance saw him on jungle boots, codes, and bullying mentality. Day one saw him handling a revolver and killing a student who said he had no money, Day two saw him being killed by another gang. It is Ekosodin village — a village infected with evil doers who have OBTAINING as a lifestyle. Their power is in their strength, their happiness in the fact that they can cause trouble and go scott free and where they get challenged, their group GOT THEIR BACK. Dad said cultism is for the weak and I realised those lines not long. Is it to approach a girl that is difficult? Or to do some jobs for little pay to box up that is impossible?? I bet our focus will be to blame the government for not providing jobs but please let us not lose focus. Does it not baffle you how a student in a tertiary institution will take to cracks and dry gin? Are you not crying for such ones who believe that to be respected is to bully their mates to forcefully sit on the ground with legion of kicks and blows for extras ( not forgetting depriving ‘them’ of their monies). Where I am nonplussed is the thought that these cultists are supposed to be of value to the society but choose the path of a drunkard and a vagabond; where I am nonplussed is the thought that they might call this hustling but then do one not hustle or engage in odd jobs so as to have a means to save or sustain? But the case is rob students on and off campus to buy more cracks and empty every bottle at the bar. What could be more foolish than a student living a purposeless life? The supposed STRONG MEN live a life of pretence but in reality they are as scared as the average mouse. Panicking when they hear a gunshot with sounds unfamiliar with the bullets in their pistol, the kind of life they live. And then someone is still willing to join these destroyed vessels for the love of power and ranking, and someone got too blind to see it comes with the death sentence — a world without peace. She was raped on 24th of December in Newton street by the lovers of the axe, but does it matter? We live in a society where silence constitutes acceptance.

The world out there is polluted and every political struggle needs a “backing” — I get, some things cannot be changed. The need though is born out of misunderstanding and severe ignorance but will I not be punished to say it to their hearing without being called disrespectful? But then, that I fail to mention the decayed habit of our elders and supposed mentors would be an error and total spite to my activism and clamour. If nothing can change the growing cults in the society, then something should be done to cure the madness the youths have adopted as new sport — the festival of decapitating human heads, the love for inflicting pain on their kind, the thirst for mischief. Can we not see that silence will lead to the youths destroying themselves before even experiencing life? Ekosodin village used to be recognized with corpse on the red sand before the police intervention. But the tale that I heard when I was still a boy is playing out once more albeit slowly, it is consistent. The vice chancellor of the great University of Benin needs remember that those who live in Ekosodin are not only old men and women ( indigenes) but students of his institution. For once, we should not adopt the African time as such method will be wrong timing. The innocent cannot live in their hostels due to lack of security, many abandoned their apartments because of clash with one cultist; if the leaders of tomorrow cannot be sure of running through school without serious clashes with the men on jungle boots and multicolored beret, then what is the purpose of fostering education? — can education be fostered without the right environment in place? Girls get raped undeservedly by these notorious gunners on a daily, they channel their strength into robbing fellow students. Not every victim of these bad boys are cultists — one wrong conclusion of many lips. We need to sing goodbye to cultism, we need to recognize the fact that those residing in Ekosodin are not inconsequential, we need to know that Ekosodin is just behind the school’s gate and not somewhere in Japan. Cultism cannot end on campus, but can it be curbed reasonably? Patently my voice cannot get to all the ears of those constitutionally able to help but can someone lend me an ear and a voice? We are Pharoahs with a future, dear VC we are not less humans.




My name is Okocha Obed, you can call me Obeezy. I love to display aesthetics through my ink—I must say writing is my small world. I consider myself a deep writer; I say I am deep because I have discovered that part about myself, even, my fabulous audience share same view. I believe in connecting to all kind of persons as there is always something to learn from everyone. I see myself as an actor; to stay on the stage, I need to think ink. The voice is a reflection of myself and my conscience. I always felt I could be like superman while growing up. It was pretty ridiculous so all I did was dream of being a soldier. It was abortive. So I created a world where I could keep talking about the ills in my community but with other flavours to show I am growing into completeness. keep reading.


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