Another kind of war (II)

Continued from last week

By the time I picked the fourth one she touched me and I knew it was the signal to stop. So I turned to go, having pocketed them in my handbag. But the moment we turned to go the guy at the door of the shop grabbed my bag and opened it. I held on to it but he was much stronger than I was. The next thing I saw was him bringing out the gold sets I had stolen and displaying them on the counter for the salesman to see. I stood there in silence,  as if spellbound.  That was when my friend began her fake reaction. She looked at the stolen sets and said to me. ‘What have you done Talatu? How can you come here and start stealing? If I knew you were a thief I would never have come to the market with you.’
Totally in shock at her unkind words and her attempt to dissociate herself from me, I suddenly found my voice and I said. ‘Don’t you dare scold me for anything. You know that we came here together and you know very well what we were sent to do. So don’t even pretend.’ I exploded.
‘Ok, I will have to take the two of you to the market police station.’ The man who grabbed my handbag announced. ‘Dont try to resist or run away because if you do, I will shout “stop thieves” and the people here  will go after you and inflict jungle justice on you. So quietly follow me and you can tell your story to the police.’ The man advised.
We followed him to the station and gave our statements. Though my friend kept insisting that she was not part of the plan, I told the police everything I knew and they decided to believe me. Both of us were arrested and they went after the rich lady. We later heard that she ran away before they could get to her house, but that other women and girls that she uses for her robbery had been caught.  Apparently, her gang had been robbing the gold merchants for so long that they decided to fix security cameras in their shops. The moment one starts picking something, it sends an alarm to the security man. So even before the salesman realises what was happening the security man will show up. I heard the one who apprehended me telling the police how it happened.
Afterwards they called our parents and said since our trial cannot begin until they arrest our boss, so they should pay a fine of one hundred thousand naira to obtain our release. In fact in my case they said since I was a first- time offender and I confessed readily, they will strike out my case all together. But my parents couldn’t help the situation because they have no money to pay for my release. And I have been here ever since.’ Talatu concluded, fresh tears flowing down her face. I looked at her for a while without comment. I couldn’t believe the young lady ended up in such a huge trouble over something as mundane and unnecessary as ashoebi. And I told her as much. I aslo asked why she couldn’t simply tell her bride friends that she didn’t want to do the wedding outfit or that she couldn’t afford it. And Talatu replied in horror:
“The bride will never forgive you Aunty, she might not even pose with you in the wedding pictures.”
I left the prison believing that we have to provide the one hundred thousand needed to free Talatu but we also have to get ready to wage another kind of war against these new wedding innovations. Unless we rise up to the challenge posed by this ashoebi phenomenon, we will live to regret the moral havoc it will cause in our soci.ety.’ Amina concluded.
‘Yes you are very right. I mean, from your prison encounter we can already see two great dangers to young women’s morality. One is in begging suitors for money to buy ashoebi. A situation which can lead to exploitation of young ladies by men who think they can’t give them gifts without getting something in return. The other one is the situation Talatu found herself in.  She fell a prey to criminal predators like the rich robbery queen. We really do have to launch a campaign against this. Luckily, we will be having a meeting of the Ladies Parliament next weekend. This will, in sha Allah be among our priority items.’ I pledged.
‘Yes it should. And rather than urge people to stop doing the ashoebi, in which case they will feel pressured, let’s just say whoever insists on doing the ashoebi should provide it for her friends free. At least this will free them from the burden of having  to source for funds to do it.’ Amina suggested.
‘But more importantly our campaign should focus on enlightening both parents and prospective brides that these innovations are neither necessary nor important in a          marriage. We should get them to accept this before we embark on giving options. May Almighty Allah make us succeed in this mission. It might seem like an insignificant move, but it is only by His special grace that we will get people to accept it.’ I warned, handing Amina a glass of my homemade ginger juice.