Bringbackoursgirls I woke up that morning, unsure of what the day holds for us, but certain of one thing, that the West African School Certificate examination is still ongoing, I got dressed and bid farewell to my folks, not knowing it will be the last time I will ever set my eyes on them, that I and many other girls will become the victim of the evil lurking around the noon.

We were hoping to  file into the examination hall, waiting for our question papers and answer booklets to be distributed to all the candidates. Amidst the examination jilters and expectation, I heard several gunshots, there was great pandemonium, students and teachers scampering.

I heard a crusty voice from a megaphone, we were commanded to lay down wherever we were, an order we obediently obeyed, I was scared and suddenly blacked out.

The operations lasted for hours, I was revived and ushered into a waiting sport utility vehicle and sandwiched between several of my classmates, like cows taken to an abattoir, we were driven away. There was great wailing, we cried until we lost our voice. I stopped crying few weeks ago, and told myself probably this is the price I have to pay for been a girl child in a country like Nigeria.

It is almost the first semester since we were forcefully abducted from our school compound, however, it seems like eternity. We have become victims of political propaganda, forsaken by a country we call our own, neglected by a government our parents elected. We were carted away like the spoils of war, our abductors in jubilation and chanting victorious songs.

Life in Sambisa has been traumatic, few days after our abduction, our human dignity was forcefully taken from most of us, freedom of worship which is enshrined in the Nigerian 1999 constitution was taken away, those of us who were Christians were forcefully converted to Islam.

We were distributed among our kidnappers, in hot tears and pain, our dignity is serially violated.  Amidst fear and trepidation we unwillingly submitted our pride to our captors. Daily, I feel awfully lonely, and I have become an outcast. Sleep has become an enemy, I stay up late every night escaping into the wonderland of mystery that contains broken fragments of my dreams. My tears and sore are salty, I long to return home if help will ever come before my last breath.

Let me leave now, you will hear from me soon, if I am still alive.
With pain from Sambisa.
 

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