Terrific Tales on Traffic - Episode 9 (Beggar Danger cont'd)

“Oge, Rose, please it’s me, Jennifer.” 

Jennifer was one of our lodge mates, her voice sounded so pained I opened the door, she was with 3 other girls, also living in our lodge, they all entered, with tears and puffy faces. Seeing their long faces, I guessed something was wrong 

“Jennifer what happened, ahahn! You are crying, Jeez Sandra, What happened to all of you” I asked them as they entered our room. 

“My Samsung phone is gone, my iPhone is gone” she cried as she sat on the floor with her hands on her head, I and Oge exchanged petrified looks. 

"Jesus!!!" We both exclaimed.

Jennifer came back with an iPhone last week, the latest model. She is part of some campus girls that big cars dropped every Sunday evening. The happening babes in town. They normally come back with a lot of fun stories of clubs and parties and plenty of money.  

“Have you tried calling the number?” I asked. She nodded 

“It’s switched off, both phones are switched off and my money is missing too, 30,000 Naira, it was in my purse, on my table just this morning, I haven’t left my room except for when I went to carry my gas from Sandra’s room downstairs” she cried, 

“My Samsung Galaxy is missing too; the numbers are switched off too and I was charging it in Jennifer’s room.” the other girl, who I believed was Sandra, said angrily. 

“Jennifer, where is your room again,” Oge asked.

“3rd floor, you can see it from here.” 

She got up, opened the door, and pointed to the room upstairs, where we saw the girl sneaking into. I and Oge exchanged looks again. Oge eyed Jennifer.

“Jennifer, didn’t you hear me shouting?” Oge asked her 

“We did but we were too involved in our discussion, we thought it was all these lodge wahala (problems)." 

“I can’t find my money too, my purse in short” Teniola reported. 

“My roommate went out since she left the door open. I was asleep, it was on the table.” I wonder why all these big girls keep huge amounts of money at home in this cashless economy.

The last girl, Amanda was crying profusely, “I borrowed Denis’ tablet, I was transferring movies, I went downstairs to buy sachet water, I didn’t lock my door, and when I came back the phones were gone, what am I going to do now? what do I tell him? I can't even afford a good Android phone not to talk of a tablet.” she cried uncontrollably. 

I was short of words, Oge briefed them of the beggar encounter describing the girl and detailing even the phone that dropped as she ran away. They all affirmed that they saw her, and even gave her old clothes which she packed in a nylon bag. I also told them how we lost our phones. 

“I gave that girl great clothes oh, not rags oh, some I have didn't wear more than once,” Sandra said.

“I put them in a fancy nylon bag for her when she came begging sef.” She continued.

Teniola spoke up with a tinge of regret and a very fake US accent

“I actually thought you guys were actually like being unfair to the poor girl and stuff. Actually, I was part of those that actually called you names when I actually heard the story, till I actually started looking for my stuff. and  I am like seriously... Like seriously is this happening right now.” Oge stifled a laugh. This girl is funny, she still had time to do accents ... seriously yen yen yen. The other girls ignore her.

 “How are you so sure it’s her,” Jennifer asked. 

“She was not alone, I saw her when I was buying a sachet of water, she was with another girl and a man, who was carrying a nylon bag.” the last girl whose name is Amanda, replied, 

“Nawa oh, Are you sure it was her?” I asked 

“Yes na, she greeted me, I gave her some clothes before I came down to talk to DJ Jerry.” 

“People are wicked, oh, repaying good with evil, God will judge them.” Amanda cursed. 

“Chai, what are we going to do now?” they all cried. 

“I don’t know, honestly, I’ve stayed in this lodge for four years, we have never had cases of stealing. This year is something else since the last anti-cult guy left, these children beggars enter and leave this lodge anytime, and each time they leave, something goes missing. They are not students, maybe the locals’ children. At such a young age, they are engaged in this act, and by the time, they grow up, they’ll be hardened criminals. It’s a pity, sorry girls for your losses, maybe you can meet the Anti-cult or Man-O-War group and report but don’t expect your stuff back, it’s already too late” I said. 

With swollen eyes and long faces, they all left my room. I didn’t want to look at Oge’s “I told you” face, I stared blankly at the door, I was so angry. 

“Little children, Oge, whosoever put them to that is a beast.” 

“My dear, rest your head, we did our best, I was shouting but they thought I was the bad person. Some of these beggars are dangerous, you needed proof, you’ve got it.” 

"Nawa Oh" I said folding my arms under my breast in disbelief.

"Especially that Teniola girl, she was saying she would call the Po-po for me, now she comes in here to come and do like actually, like seriously with that her yeye fake accent" Oge mimicked.

"Ogeeee!" I hit her and we both laughed.

“The way Charity is being abused in this country, may God have Mercy on us sha” 

There was a lodge meeting in the evening to discuss the issue. Testimonies started flying about. Denis said he caught one small boy in his room, holding his purse, when he confronted him, the boy told him that his roommate asked him to arrange the room and the purse was on the floor, after scolding the boy, he never saw the boy again. Big Jay, one fat guy named Johnson, said he had spotted a small girl of about 13 with a phone in the lodge, trying to switch it off, she said it belonged to her. We resolved to take the case to the hostel management but the girls never got their stuff back and everybody started locking their doors. Some had learned the hard way. Children and hawkers were banned from the lodge, and the hostel management installed a facial identification system at the hostel’s entrance, hired security personnel, and increased the rent, some of my lodge mates even changed their keys and padlocks, whereas many of us changed our hearts towards beggars. 

However, the young girl’s face tormented me day and night, I couldn’t find out why her face kept on reappearing in my thoughts. There was something in her eyes that showed that she was in great pain. What if she was sent to do it by a wicked uncle or guardian? I couldn’t share my thoughts with Oge because I already saw her reaction that day. I started staring too long at children whenever they passed by, trying to see if I would come across her. 

Nevertheless, the event lingered in my mind ever since that day. Why couldn’t I seem to forget this girl? I wondered. “What if she is innocent? What if the thief was amongst us and we accused an innocent child, who was going through a lot?” I also thought about her innocence, her pain-stricken face that made her story so real, and feels you with sympathy. I wondered if there were any of her family members that were sick in truth. There was no more incidence of theft in the hostel throughout my stay, which refuted my thoughts about the girl’s innocence. I wondered if Oge’s words struck in her head like they did mine. "Poverty is not an excuse to steal". I also pondered on what would become of the beggar girl and her likes, Did armed robbers and thieves start like this. 

One day, I got my request, and I saw her again. One evening, while I was waiting in school to defend my project. the street was void of students, as exams were long over and all students apart from the final years had all gone home. I had just finished preparing noodles and sat down on my balcony devouring it all. Then I spotted her, through the space between the balusters, she was exiting the adjacent hostel with a huge Bagco sack bag. 

Without thinking, I dropped my food, wore my trousers, locked the room, and ran out, she was walking very fast, I followed her, maintaining just enough distance for her not to suspect that I was following her. After walking fast for about 20 minutes, the little girl turned right and slowed her pace. That must be her street, I thought. I slowed my pace, asking myself, "Why I am following this girl again by the way. She didn’t steal from me. What is my issue with this girl sef? Maybe I could help her, she’s probably in some sort of maltreatment. Maybe someone is threatening her to do this. Whatever it was, I would find out today. 

By the time, I turned into the street, I saw her stop at a large gate. I was shocked beyond words; it was a tastefully finished story building. She knocked 3 times after which the door was opened by a slim, bare-chested haggard-looking young man. He collected the bag, nudged her inside, and closed the gate. That must be her wicked uncle, I thought. 

As I reached the house, I heard a lady shout, “Nneoma! Nneoma Oh!!” “Yes Mummy, I’m coming” she replied. This was her house? I was still shocked, she has a Mother, who sounds very healthy and strong and comfortable, this was getting interesting. I surveyed the building, it was a very beautiful house. Just too beautiful for the kind of story she fed us with. I pressed my head to the gate 

"Kee ebe i gara ke mgbe otutu?”, the woman asked in Igbo from the balcony upstairs. 

She was picking beans and she looked healthy. 

“Mummy, Brother Emeka sent me on an errand” the little girl replied. 

“Since 7 o’clock in the morning, this is 1 o’clock, will you get inside here, nonsense!”, the woman said angrily. 

Emeka, where did you send that girl to?” She asked Emeka.

“Just to collect my stuff from my friend, Aunty, we’re coming.” He replied. 

I peeped from the gate, the little girl was still standing outside with the man. they were unpacking the bag of its content, I saw some clothes, shoes, slippers, three Android phones, and one laptop, and one torchlight. She reached for her pocket and brought out some money, which she handed to him, too, but he gestured at her to keep it, she danced for joy while he continued to examine the laptop. 

“Nneoma, the phones are not much today, what happened?” He asked her. 

“Uncle it was only two hostels I could enter today and only two rooms were left opened and unguarded, the rest were locked. Students have traveled.” 

“Ehehn, you know you will soon resume school, this your junior WAEC long break will soon be over. Who would be helping me now?” He lamented. She shrugged. 

"Ngwanu, go inside, E gbali go, you have done well." He packed the stolen items back into the bag and went inside with her. 

I was heartbroken. From the resemblance between them, I knew he was her uncle and he was teaching her how to steal, by innocently acting like a beggar. I wanted to knock on the door and tell her mother. I stopped myself and pondered. What is my proof? Who will testify with me? What if her mother is aware? What if it was a family business? I would report now and they will turn on me and maybe kill me and nobody would ever know. I would just die like that for not minding my own business, just a day before I finally defend my project. I had found all I wanted to find out, Oge was right after all. They are all a bunch of scams and I am done with them. 

With that firm resolve in my heart, I turned around and left. Since then, I keep seeing her face on every beggar I come across and my pity is suddenly replaced with anger. I doubt their tales. I stopped almsgiving and only donated to charity alone. Though some may be sincere and others, dubious. One girl changed it all for me. My very first Beggar Danger experience. However, no matter how we lock our doors, hearts, and pockets, we have to see that there’s a big problem out there. From poverty, child trafficking, stealing, demoralization, personality, and economic development. And it affects every one of us, in one way or the other and we have to end this.

I am ending this story here 😉 for now!! But wherever you are, do your best to Stop Human/Child trafficking of any sort, it starts like this, then cascades to sexual abuse, exploitation, forced labor, and torture.

Lost?? Go to the beginning of the story

Written by Rosemary Ugwuogo aka Dauntless