The day your cousin Tanure was shot on campus, two things happened to you. You learned a hard lesson and also discovered your life’s purpose. You learned to never trust anyone and it was the hardest lesson of your life. A lesson that left more questions than answers. How could anyone be angry enough with Tanure to the extent of killing him? How could anyone even hate him?
Tanure, your sweet, handsome and gentle cousin was one person whose integrity you could vouch for. But it wasn’t just you, everyone who crossed his path could have sworn that he was the epitome of a well brought up child who had grown into a responsible young man, the kind any parent would be proud of. You always joked that you would organize an audition to select a ‘befitting’ wife for him when it was time to get married. You knew it was funny and unnecessary because he didn’t even have a girlfriend, you had never known him with one, so whoever he eventually decided to get married to would be a ‘befitting’ girl he really loved.
Tanure had an answer for every question and gave a timeline to provide answers to the questions he didn’t have answers for. He would read up and provide the answers as promised - he read books like they were food and literally consumed any information material within sight. He neither smoked nor drank. He never made a promise he wouldn’t keep and never paid compliments unless he meant them. He periodically organized outreaches to give food to the less privileged within the community that hosted the campus. He was loved, admired and respected, the archetypal man of the people even at his young age.
So when news about his death being a retaliatory act by a rival cult group began to spread, everyone was taken aback. It had to be a lie. Everyone swore that investigations would help ascertain the truth but investigations proved that Tanure was not just a cultist but the head of his cult group. He was called the Capone.
The truth was a pill too bitter to swallow. How could your favourite cousin and best friend be a cultist yet you didn’t know? When did he attend meetings? He was available almost anytime you wanted to see him. How could someone as gentle and well informed as him be involved in cultism? He was neither insecure nor one to prove a point to people.
You cried so much at the realization that you never really knew him & you felt betrayed. You wished you could talk to him one more time so you could ask ‘why’. You knew you would never trust anyone again, you had become a victim of the truth that anyone is capable of anything.
Tanure was in his 3rd year as an Accounting student while you were in your 2nd year as a Law student when he was killed.
It was a tough time on campus as killings became a regular occurrence. Shortly after Tanure’s death, a series of coordinated killings followed. The head of one of the boys killed was even hung on a pole within the campus, students and lecturers woke up in the morning to see the gory sight. The Vice Chancellor announced that academic activities would be suspended for a while and students were asked to go home till it was deemed safe enough to resume.
After Tanure’s death and burial, you decided that you would dedicate your life to educating young people about the dangers of cultism, to reduce the burden as much as possible. So upon graduation, you abandoned your Law degree and started a ‘Cut Cultism (CSquared)’ campaign. You organized outreaches in primary and secondary schools to educate and dissuade young boys and girls from joining cults. You organized events, planned youth camps and trips geared towards exposing young people to better. You sought mentors and coaches for them and also supported them with finances to learn valuable skills. You gave your time, energy and resources to ensuring young people didn’t tow Tanure’s path. You would save as much as possible. This was your purpose.
So when 5 years later you met Gerald at the launch of your foundation, you were excited to know he shared your vision. He had sought you out for partnership with his organization focused on the reformation of ex-cultists. He also partnered security agencies to provide support and protection to those who wanted out but were scared of the repercussions of denouncing cultism. He shared his testimonies noting that the reformed cultists could serve as mentors for the youngsters you worked with by sharing their experiences, and guiding them against pitfalls. You liked the idea and told him you would think about it. He asked to continue the conversation over drinks and dinner another time, and you said yes to what would be your first date in 2 years. That first date led to many more and your friendship blossomed alongside the partnership.
Gerald was like Tanure in many ways. Calm yet firm, a voracious reader, an introvert yet influential with people, a man who kept his word. He had also attended your school and when you shared Tanure’s story, he said he recalled the period of cult rivalry and killings as he was in his final year and had his graduation delayed because of the temporary suspension of academic activities.
You liked him and decided that you would say yes if he asked for a romantic relationship.
The day he did, he simply paused the video game of FIFA you both were playing, months after your first encounter, called your name and said “I love you.” He paused as though to let his declaration sink in and continued. “I like your zeal, drive, passion and commitment. I admire your discipline and fortitude. I am fascinated by the fact that you can be serious yet sexy, feisty yet sultry. I like the fact that I can let down my guard with you and trust that I am safe. I love you and would be honoured to be your man.”
You were taken aback because it was unexpected but you smiled because he had proven again that he was not one to mince words about his purpose and intentions. You said “Yes”, and as you looked in his eyes, for the first time in years you decided that you had found a man you could trust. That evening, you shared a glass of Champagne and sealed your new union with a kiss.
Gerald was a good man and an even better lover. You wore his love well, you wore it with pride. He was yours. This man whose presence made everyone else comfortable, who worked hard and played hard. He wasn’t perfect but he was enough, enough to make you feel like you won a prize you could never have earned. You were in love and for the first time, marriage became something to look forward to.
The day everything changed you learned two lessons. You learned that forgiveness is easier preached than practiced and that love is never enough.
It was the day after Gerald asked you to marry him. You said yes and the next day he asked his Chef to take the evening off. He wanted to cook for you personally, a celebratory dinner he called it. You smiled as you watched him chop the vegetables he was to cook with. As you conversed he sought to know if you had any concerns or questions you wanted him to answer.
“What is the worst thing you have done? What have you not shared with me?” You sat down as you asked, a glass of wine in hand.
He responded that it was a question he did not expect and one he would rather not answer as he didn’t want to tell a lie. But you pressed and after a while, he gave in.
“I was the leader of the cult group that carried out the coordinated killings on campus in my final year. I gave the orders and supervised all the killings.”
He finished and waited for you to respond but you said nothing. You studied him, his beautiful face and well manicured hands holding the knife and for the first time you felt fear in his presence.
You muttered “Tanure” and he nodded.
Your Gerald, this disciplined, intelligent and refined man whom you had agreed to marry, was the same brutish boy that ordered the death of your favourite cousin and others, and even master minded the hanging of a human head on a pole for all to see.
You tried to get up but your legs felt heavy, as though they were no longer yours.
He stood still watching you and you heard him saying something about his past activities being the motivation for his work with ex-cultists but you were not even listening.
Tears trickled down your face, and he moved quickly to hold you but you shrugged him off. Minutes ago, he was perfect but the truth he shared made him seem like a monster.
You know that he loves you genuinely and is no longer the person who committed those atrocities but none of that matter as your only thoughts are about how to cleanse your body of his every touch and erase every memory of him from your head. You admit that you have once again become a victim of the truth.
