This is perhaps the most difficult article I’ll ever write. It is difficult because I write with a frustrating reality in mind that I am most likely wasting my time. For once I write about an evil, so evil it is unspeakable, yet I feel there is no hope; no one will come to my aide, no one will come to the aide of the women who were violated and their dignity taken away so much so that death will feel better. No, people will celebrate the culture and people will dance to its tunes. Oh, I feel hopeless!
We heard, and some others watched, the other day when some undergraduates took turns to rape a fellow student and videotaped it somewhere in South of Nigeria. And we heard, and some watched, as she begged them to kill her; oh she would have been relieved if only they would oblige her and sniff life out of her; it was better than this horror, this pain, this hurt, this humiliation, this violation, and this absolute damage. Oh, death is not this bad she must have thought; for once she must have desired it, instead of this. Just anything instead of this. I can’t imagine, if you have not been raped, you also cannot imagine. If you could imagine and if we, as a people, could imagine we would not promote songs that praise rape no matter how subtle To Watch The Video CLICK HERE
I first heard Mr. Olamide Adedeji’s song “Story for the Gods” in a cab. The driver kept repeating the song so I was forced to notice it. Any person with a musical background will notice the wittiness of the producer and the smoothness of the artiste but for my religious convictions I decided to ignore, as I will usually do. Two days later the song kept playing in my head and as I try to fight it I gave a thought to the lyrics of what was coming to my head and I was shocked. In curiosity I searched for the lyrics, got a translation from a Yoruba friend for the Yoruba parts and my mouth dropped open. What? A song praising rape? I died!
Posted by Marvellous Chijioke