IN theory, Nigerian institutions, like the Church and government agencies, are motivated by the loftiest ideals. Usually, they have mottoes: pithy and poetic expressions defining their guiding principles and objectives.

But due to the moral and ethical collapse of the Nigerian society, occasioned by a series of irresponsible, amoral and conscienceless leaders, these institutions generally operate in total contradiction of their professed principles and objectives: at the detriment of the Nigerian people.

Take this story for example. A lady in her early thirties lives with her senior sister. She works as a cleaner in a private school and goes to school part-time. She attends a Pentecostal church.

Her   pastor, who is also a “prophet”, knows  that she earnestly desires  to be  married. So, he “prophesies” to her. According to his “prophesy”, she will, in a short while, meet a man whom God has designated to be her husband. In his “prophesy”, he reveals  the man’s name and state of origin.

About two months later, a long time friend of the pastor, a shiftless, homeless and jobless man, appears in church. His name and state of origin are exactly as the pastor had “prophesied”.

With the flippancy and suave of a con artist, he captivates  the lady; and promises to marry her. He admits to be homeless but claims to have a job. She was not overly concerned about the man’s antecedence and the details of his present life. After all, the man was God sent, and everything about the marriage and her prospective husband was unfolding according to the prophecy of her ‘daddy in the Lord’. She was ecstatic; rejoicing that God had finally answered her prayers.

The man leeched off her and her senior sister. Shortly, the lady is pregnant. With the  pregnancy, the next logical step, the lady and her family argued, was marriage. The man, with his slippery and serpentine parlance temporised (on marriage).

On the day of her delivery, after a Caesarean operation, and with the woman in a coma and her hospital bills mounting, the “God anointed husband” vanished. Homeless, and of course, with no traceable place of residence, no one could locate him.

After the hospital bills were duly paid by the lady’s senior sister and the lady discharged from the hospital, he reappeared. Instead of money and provisions for the new born baby, he brought water in a bottle for the baby.

The baby’s mother questioned his insistence on the baby drinking this “special water”. There was a heated argument between them, and the  man vanished for the second and final time.

Disconcerted and dispirited, she adjusted to her new role as a single parent. With time, her daughter starts school.

After school, she got a baby sitter, a woman who runs a small store for about two to three hours before she gets back  from work, and then, picks her up. One day after school, as the girl (now six year old) played around, she was gang raped by three grown men.

After the rape, as she ran out, crying and bleeding, her baby sitter realised what happened. She hushed her up and cleaned her up but neither notified the police nor told her mother.

The girl told her mother about the rape. But, like many Nigerians, frightened by the inherent wickedness, insensitivity and oppressiveness of the Nigerian system, the mother did nothing. She did not confront the rapists, question the baby sitter or report the rape to the police.

And, most terrifyingly, she did not take the girl for a medical check up because she could not afford it. The girl had a strange cough and complained of waist pain. Still, the mother did nothing.

On this given day, the young girl was in a gossip mood and was telling her aunty (the mother’s senior sister) about another aunty. She said that her other aunty is not a “good girl” because she “allows boy to touch her”.

At her work place, she was “hugging the boys” that work with her. Her aunty said it was okay for her other aunty to hug boys because she is a grown lady. But, as for her, who is still a small girl, no boy should touch her.

She asked her if any boy has been touching her. She replied yes, and told her about the rape. She gave graphic details of the rape, including how one of the men stuck “that dirty thing” with something like milk dripping from it into her mouth and forced her to drink the milk-like liquid. She reeled out the names of the three “uncles” – that is – the pedophilic rapists.

Her aunty was flabbergasted. She confronted the girl’s mother. The mother defended her inaction on the grounds that she has no money and therefore could not afford a “police case”.

The aunty provided money for the girl’s medical check up. The doctor’s report attested to a rape. The doctor notified a staff of an NGO and she called the police. The police moved in and arrested the rape suspects and charged them to court.

Oh wow! Splendid, you will think. At last, the pedophiles, in line with the stipulations of the law, will be prosecuted, convicted and consigned to jail where they really belong. With the rapists arrested, the girl’s mother was elated. She was animated by a new sense of relevancy and self confidence.

Her self doubt and distrust of the police, lawyers and the legal system all disappeared. In her romantic naiveté, she was enlivened by a new found faith in the Nigerian judiciary system. She rebuffed appeals from different quarters (the families of the rapists, the child’s baby sitter and some of her own relatives) to drop the case.

She was determined to see the case brought to a conclusive end. And the culprits sentenced to long jail terms for their desecration of her innocent daughter.

Mr. TOCHUKWU EZUKANMA, a public affairs commentator, wrote from Lagos.