Even though I was already a grown woman, I still couldn’t find my way back home. I lived in Ekpoma, Edo State.
It all happened on a fateful Tuesday evening. I was sitting on a wooden stool, pressing my phone, when I received a call from my mother telling me that my younger sister was missing.
At first, I didn’t panic because I knew a spot where she usually went to play whenever she felt bored. I quickly got up and prepared to look for her. I wore a pair of blue jean skirts with a matching blue shirt. I carried a little black handbag, applied some lip gloss, and headed straight to her usual playground.
When I got there, she wasn’t there.
At that moment, I felt like crying, but I calmed myself down. I took my phone out of my little black handbag and started showing people a picture of my younger sister, asking if they had seen her.
Unfortunately, their answer was always the same.
“No.”
After hearing that answer repeatedly, I began to panic.
I walked and walked until I eventually came across a signboard with the name “Irrua” written on it. Irrua was a neighboring town close to Ekpoma, where I lived.
The fear and panic inside me grew stronger.
I would have taken a taxi back to Ekpoma, but I was short of cash at that moment. So, I sat down on an abandoned store, staring at the rough ground with tears and regrets filling my heart.
It was getting dark.
I remained there, not knowing what to do, until a lady dressed in a red gown tapped me on the shoulder. She had a wide smile on her face.
“Good evening, ma’am,” I greeted her.
“Good evening,” she replied.
Then she asked, “Why are you crying?”
I explained everything that had happened to me.
To my surprise, she said, “What a coincidence! I’m also going to Ekpoma. I can take you back home.”
Before she could say another word, my phone rang.
It was my mother calling.
She told me that my younger sister had been found!
I forced a laugh and tried to sound normal on the phone because I knew that if my mother found out that I was stranded in another town, she would have been extremely worried.
After the call ended, I turned to the woman and asked her to continue what she was saying.
She repeated that she was going to Ekpoma and could take me home.
But suddenly, a fearful thought crossed my mind.
I remembered the rumours I had heard about girls being kidnapped. I became suspicious and afraid. However, I pushed the fear aside and thanked her repeatedly for her kindness.
I told her I would follow her.
We entered a taxi together.
On our way to Ekpoma, I suddenly saw some men holding huge guns. My heart almost stopped.
I thought they were kidnappers.
But, to my relief, they were actually road safety officials collecting money from passengers.
When it was our turn, we gave the officials some money, and they allowed us to continue our journey.
Eventually, we arrived in Ekpoma, and the woman took me all the way to my house.
I thanked her again and again. I was so grateful that I almost went down on my knees to thank her.
I introduced myself to her, and she told me her name was Edna Ezekiel.
She said she wanted to see my parents, but I told her not to worry. I was afraid that if she told my mother everything that had happened, my mother would become extremely worried.
She agreed and eventually left.
I went inside my room, closed the door, and thanked God for keeping me safe.
That day taught me something I will never forget: sometimes, help can come from the most unexpected person, even when fear tells you not to trust anyone.
