It was one evening, I was returning from work with my two friends. We were all self employed, trying to build a vision on our different tracks. Jane was a web designer, graphic designer and App Builder. Maltida was into making snacks and packaging them for supermarkets, and I was working on a media firm. We were doing good in our different works and as friends with differences. Tolerance and forgiveness kept us going. That evening, we stood by the road side, waiting for a taxi or a keke to convey us to the junction of the village we were living. A few minutes into our waiting, a Land Rover packed on us, and the guys in it asked us to come in. They were well dressed with good smiles, so there was nothing to worry about and you know sometimes, you find Abuja people showing lift kindness. My two friends hopped in but I declined. They looked at me like, 'the local one', who would never grow out of native behaviors. They zoomed off as I waited for Keke, I have a jealous boyfriend, I can't explain and answer questions. If I was in that vehicle and his call came in, it would be a evening of battle. He would like to know details of what did not exist, so I avoided stories I don't like to tell.
Fortunately, a friend of mine drove along that way and she gave me a lift to my village's junction, there I took bike to the village, I dropped in front of my room with peace. I was expecting to meet them at home but they weren't there. I thought within, 'They might have gone for evening fun' but they were more serious than retiring to joints. I went in to cook and prepare for the next day.
8pm, they were not back, I became worried. They shared the same blocked of room with me and I was sure that, when they come back, they would come and shout on me, calling me a local girl. I called their lines but they did not go through; switched off. What might be wrong with them? They were business persons, they need their phones on. 9:30pm, I didn't see them, then I became afraid, I called our other friends to inform them. So they won't say, I kept it to my self. They made call through, but their lines wasn't going through. I was afraid, I couldn't sleep even when I had my night shower, my eyes were opened wide. I began to pray. This was an uncommon prayer, I said everything I have heard the pastor preached in the church, I began to pray and even believe. I wasn't the heavy prayer type, I just believe in God. When it was 11:15, a little sleep came, I lied there half asleep, half awake, around 11:35, I heard a knock on my door. I shouted, Jane, Maltida, Jane, maltida. When I opened the door, it was some friends, they came to check and sympathized. They left about thirty minutes later, leaving me with hope.
1am, I heard another knock. Behold there they were, They came into my room and sat like wounded soldiers. What happened I demanded to know, all they could do at first was give sighs. I made them cold tea and later put noddles together for them just to have something in. We all slept in my room quietly.
I woke up as early as I could to meet with the appointment of the day, an interview here, a shot of short play there and more. My friends woke up late, around 6pm. I was almost out, then I asked them of yesterday. It wasn't a sweet story to tell.
Jane said, 'Those guys were culprit. As we entered, they locked all doors from the central control and zoomed to an unknown destination. They took us to a well built house, the gate was opened by a tall dark man. We're were not allowed in, in the open space in front of the house, we were made to come down, and gave all that was valuable on us. Our jewelries, phones, laptop, money in the bag, all was searched and brought out, after that, were made to enter back into the car, it drove to another area and dumped us with nothing, nothing, no money transport ourselves, we turn inside, with no mean to get home yet well dressed. We walked down and saw policemen, we were happy because we felt they could help us, we explained to them but they only sympathize with us and spoke of the cruelity of the young guys. They couldn't do much but they help with a little money. It took us to a point and finished, we had to start begging to get to the house and many won't even want to bother, we were well dressed so we were thought to be cooperate beggars. We were there for hours. It came to a time all we could do was to cry, we were tired. We walked down a little but how far could our legs carry us. To cut it short we were latter helped and that was how we got home'
They took their extra keys in my room and went into theirs with nothing but their clothes and almost empty hand bags. They looked at me as if I was wise not to have followed those guy and that made me happy but I couldn't smile. Such loss was crucial, lots of their information was on the phone and system. They don't know what they could do with their ATM, they just hoped for the best
I gave them some money that could take them to town to withdral and some other things. With time and support, they recovered. As from then, they dread lift like exploding fire. They had been beaten once, they won't want another loss.