By Yetunde Arebi

In the course of this job, I’ve been privileged to listen to thousands o  stories and shared same with my readers. From the good, to the bad, to the ugly and downright disgusting. Especially in a society such as ours riddled with corruption, where power is might and the weak and vulnerable are always at the receiving end with little or no hope for justice. I met Susan during one of our numerous women outreach programmes a couple of years ago and we have remained quite close ever since.

She readily shares the story of her experience with sexual harassment and abuse as a young undergraduate with young women and those who care to listen. Most of the time, she throws in a few curses, revealing her yearning for what she hopes must have happened to the perpetrator, though she has turned her pain into strength. There are several people like “Sheik” in our society, always eager to use their positions to lord over others.

They forget that the enjoyment is for but a fleeting moment, the gravity of their actions will linger for ever in the minds of their victims. And perhaps, if God wills, a day of reckoning and confrontation might just come to pass. But until then, Susan will just continue to share her story!!

“It happened in my first year in the university. After sitting for the matriculation examination for two consecutive years without obtaining the required cut off points for admission, I had persuaded my father to allow me take the part time programme and I was very happy to be in school. The part time programme was designed for the employed or older students, so, you can imagine how conspicuous the few very young ones in the class would be. This, I think contributed to the problem that I finally landed into.

Among our group of lecturers was a man, students derogatorily referred to as Sheik because he loved to pretend to be very religious. He tried so hard to portray himself as  someone above board, but in actual fact, turned out to be the lowest scum ever. Half of his lecture hours were spent discussing politics and abusing government and leaders. He pretended to be a comrade or a crusader of a good cause, but was actually a mere opportunist waiting for the kill. In an attempt to instil fear into his students, he would yell at us, speak very rudely to most of us, including the elderly men and married women. He would tell us how difficult it was to pass his courses, as everyone must account for any grade they eventually leave the university with.

But before our first year was over, many students already had an idea of who Sheik really was. He had a weak point. He loved money. He was the only lecturer who sold handouts and a book not relevant to his course, to students. No doubts they were outrageously expensive for a course of just two units.

He even sold at a higher price to some of the older students who he suspected could afford it. Sheik was also the only lecturer actively involved in the students’ religious groups and rumour had it that it was because of the free flow of funds available. At some point, it was even alleged that he’d once embezzled money from the society. Sheik was fond of condemning people, especially those he considered not morally upright enough.

Sometimes, he may use about fifteen minutes to lecture us on how he was not impressed nor could be attracted to female students’ in any way. He would talk about his wife, a lecturer, he described as an epitome of beauty, morality and brain. We later discovered that the woman was a secondary school teacher and dressed head to toe in religious black robes, exposing only her face. Some of us would however discover all his ranting to be false, a cover up for who he really was.

It all started shortly after we began taking his course. He would go on and on about our dressing, picking some of us out of the crowd to insult. I was one of his first casualties in the class as nothing I did seemed to please him.

One day he told me to see him in his office after class. He said he wanted to ask me a few things and advise me on how to go about life. It was a big lie. He’d also asked some other girls to see him. We were five, but he saw us one after the other.

Nobody knew what he said to the other person, but when I stepped inside, he began to ask about my family life. I was afraid of him because of the things he used to say in class, so I did not want to tell him any lies. He moved from there to ask me about my boyfriend and what he did for a living.

I told him I did not have any, but when he began to raise his voice again, I confessed that  I have but he was in America. He told me I must have a lot of money since he would be sending me some from time to time. To close the topic that day, he told me he liked me because I am a truthful person, respectful and takes to correction. That he would like to assist me graduate out of the university in flying colours if only we could remain friends and I will do as told. I thanked him and left his office.

Many of my friends and those who were interested in what he had to say to me in privacy were on hand to ask how our session went. When I told them, leaving out the part about my boyfriend and his other insults, they told me to be careful as the man might probably not be what he wanted students to think he was. In my heart, I already knew it was a matter of time before he would really bare his fangs. He had already voiced his interest, and it was left to me to take the bait or not. I was afraid he would fail me if I turned him down and I would have no one to report him to. Besides, it was open knowledge that most of the lecturers who engage in this dastardly act operate a cartel of sort.

I tried to stay out of his way as much as possible. One day, he told me that I would be courting trouble if I continued to ignore him and that no one could save me from his clutches if he became angry with me. He asked if I was a virgin, or why was I behaving as if I’d never done it before. He said he’d planned to treat me tenderly before since he really liked me, but that now that I’d annoyed him, he saw no reason to do so anymore.

He then ordered me to see him the next day as he had something very important to show me. I kept the appointment and got to his office on time. Without looking up, he asked if I knew my way around town very well.

I said yes. I had assumed he was sending me on an errand. He took a piece of paper,  wrote out an address and asked me to go and wait for him there. I was stunned, and stood looking at the paper for a few seconds. Then he looked up and what I saw in his eyes really made me scared. He asked in a very gruff voice if I had any problems with what he’d said. I told him no and walked out of the office. He had not even bothered to give me any money for transport fare. When I got to the address, I discovered that it was a guest house.

After identifying myself to the attendant, giving him the name of my lecturer, he showed me into a room. I can’t remember how long I had to wait before he finally showed up. I was already mad with anger, madder still, because I could not tell him for fear of what he might do to me.

He was apologetic and did not look as hard as he had been earlier on. He told me he was held up at the Registrar’s office. And to my surprise, he just flung his heavy body on the bed and asked me to join him. When I appeared reluctant, he asked amid laughter what I expected we were there to do. Then, I began to cry. As soon as the first few hiccups sounded, he just told me to forget about it as my tears would not change the situation.

I should respect myself and get it over with. He even told me that I should pray that he would not enjoy it, as that was the only way he would not come at me again. And so, Sheik, a self acclaimed religious zealot, social critic, and advocate of accountability and good governance, had his way with me.

I laid there like a log, and he kept hissing and jerking at my leg, instructing that I should move along with him. I just continued crying and remained as stiff as I could muster the energy. The man was not only dirty in character, he was dirty physically.

His white vest had turned grey and brown, same for his pants. He had tangled hair on his chest and body and stank of sweat. But I could not complain. At that moment, a clearer picture of the man I was dealing with appeared before me. Sheik had a big complex. He knew he was no good and most girls would not want him simply for himself. So, he was using his position and powers to get what he wanted.
I realised that I was no longer afraid of him. Rather, I felt disgust for him and sorry for his wife. I was sure I could even be rude to him if I wanted and he would not have been able to do anything about it.

But I was grateful that he had bothered to use a condom, because had he not, I would not have been able to insist at the time. When he was done, I took my clothes, went to clean myself and waited for him to dismiss me. When he did, I did not bid him goodbye, I just walked out.

I next saw him in class. I was wearing one of the blouses he’d earlier criticised, but he did not say anything. Several months later, I discovered that I was not the only victim in the same class. It is on record that he had his way with two other girls, both of them heavily built like me.

I guess that was the attraction. It had nothing to do with our style of dressing. He liked girls with large breasts and that was all. Eventually, I was able to summon courage to tell a few friends, so they would  know his real personae and perhaps, pass the word around.  By the time we graduated, many students knew he could only bark and not bite. I was one of the few that paid the ultimate price!!