WASAGU The Untold Story of the Journey

I was traveling to a village called WASAGU in far away Sokoto, crossing borders of Niger, Zamfara and Kebbi States (at a point wondered which state actually owned the Village), I was only attending the wedding fatiha of a friend and brother Faruk Ibrahim (aka Tan_Ibiyo), the journey was long and hectic as the road looks so terrible like the road to hell. Had a terrible experience, many tires were busted, head lamps and fog lights broken, bumpers battered, goats and their kids murdered, but no human life lost. We went alone but came back with a bride and me with a fantastic story Idea. "The Journey to Wasagu" is an unforgettable one. When we stopped kilometers away from our destination, to help a friend fixed his busted front wheel, I saw a truck fully loaded with young teenage village girls between the ages of 13-15, I thought that was the only means of transportation but later learned that the girls are being transported to big cities like Kano, Kaduna, Abuja, Calabar, Portharcourt and Lagos to carry out household labors in other to earn a living for themselves and parents in far away villages. I wonder if Mr. President knows about the existence of villages like Wasagu and Co? The Idea of my story has nothing to do with the number one citizen, but the live of those innocent girls filled in the back of that canter truck. Do they ever return? Do they parents ever cared about what they do, how they are faring or how they survive? Do they even survive the dust, bad roads and harsh weather conditions to these so-called green lands? Are they really green lands? How much do they make in five years out of the comfort of their parents? If they do make much, is it worth subjecting your wards to these cruelty, harshness and labors? All question will be attempted in my new story Ra-Chi-Pi... Watch out...