19th May, 2016 Writers

Who is there?

There was no response.

Cringing and bawling at the thoughts of the things that lurks in the dark.

We wanted to scream but it then occur to us that we live miles away from the sane and saints.

I dialled the only number I could trust.

“Hi, this is Sam, you know what to do”

Oh Goodness!

We were not sure what to do next.

Our lives, being determined by the chirps of the crickets, by the hoots of owls.

We pray to hear the cockerel in no time.

We silently pray to make it through the night

Just maybe we would be able to survive, if it was just a maze or a labyrinth, at least there is a way out of these two. 

It’s an abyss. 


The other night, we heard a loud cry, it was a woman with her infant.

Gone beyond!

“Omotoyosi, I don’t think I am going to make it”

“Common Trish, we will survive this night like we always do"

We will survive this abyss.

It’s happening again.

They are here for one of us.

“Not this night” 

I thought to myself whilst staring at the heavily built men as they matched towards us deliberating on who is next.

NO! I cried as they dragged Trish and this old man away.

I felt a quick flash of what happened earlier

“Omotoyosi, I don’t think I am going to make it”

The thought left me jolted and broken.

I met Trish and these other people here.

But they have been wiped by the jingles of the cruel

I am perplexed but I still have hope.

I hope this is a tunnel. Hence, I yearn for light by dawn.


Lagos, Nigeria
  • A tale of hopes and pains

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