Naija Stories

A Day I Will Never Forget

I invited a good number of friends on the 15th of July, 2001. It was to be my first day at gathering about twenty friends on my own interest. Expectantly, they had all honored my invitation. While I discussed with my elder brother on how the activities of the day would go, my cousins, majorly girls took it upon themselves to oversee the arrangement of tables.

I wanted it done at half past seven, when the sun would be long set and darkness would have hung like a cloak of fresh dampness. I wanted it that way.

But… things went sour, when B.J, my elder brother’s school mate came into the gathering. He went straight to the group of girls that stood at a corner gisting.

No one ever noticed that he was drunk and was staggering, even I, who claimed to be vigilant and wary, never noticed.

Like a flash of lightning, he had sent one of the girl rolling down with a jab of the broken bottle in her arm. Blood dripped from her arm like the slow dull tap at my backyard.

“Someone help! Someone help!” the girls screamed as they helped the wounded girl up. She had started to feel faint and what she mouthed was: “He took a revenge. Tell Mat about this.”

There was a fracas, B.J was beginning to run, some boys were after him. But a big frame of a guy was closer to him. He seemed to be more dangerous than B.J . This time, we all saw that B.J eyes had cleared and he was gaining little speed ahead of others.

I stood there in complete shock and surprise about how events in life could turn out in no time .

One hour had dragged away as the scream of the rest girls faded away. The boys that had chased B.J were not back yet.

“Sam, we have to leave this house. It’s no longer safe.”

“I’m on the run. You should,” my elder brother said as he rolled up his trouser and folded his sleeve, ready to move.

“You said what? I don’t even understand what is going on.” Before I knew that I was only talking to an air, and not my elder brother. The siren of the police sounded in the air.


I should have ran away like my elder brother. I should have even followed the group of girls in pitiful screams. Or the boys with dangerous looks. I should have done at least one out of them.

Now, I am in the police cell, and I have been using my sweat to bath for two days. There is no food, no water, no sunlight, no peace.

If I do know about the Sissy, (the injured girl), I would have known that her boyfriend was Mat (the big frame of a guy).

But I don’t know, because it is my birthday. My special day.

Why not share?

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