It was a normal day, or so it seemed for me. Emmanuel, my brother had come to visit me during his school holiday, and while I had my classes to attend, I always returned home early each day to keep him company. Little did I know that my intuition would be awakened on this particular day, nudging me to listen closely to its silent whisper.
It was a bright Monday morning, the morning sun pierced through the window into my small apartment. I was already running late for school. Grabbing my bag, I left my brother at home and headed to school.
It was a typical day, with the usual long lectures and discussions filling the hours. But, as noon approached, a strong urge began to tingle at the back of my mind. Subtle, yet persistent feeling that something wasn't quite right. It was weird, because I haven't felt that way in a long time.
During a break between lectures, I tried reaching my brother on the phone, just to assure myself that he was well. But I had run out of battery, leaving me with no means of connecting to him.
Out of fear, I confided in a close course mate and friend. I explained the strange unease that had washed over me.
"Bro I don't know why I have this weird feeling about my brother today. "I said as I walked with him down the school walkway. "I just can't explain it, but I just have this strong urge to go back home, seems like I won't be available for the other plans we have today" I said, my brows furrowing with concern.
He smiled reassuringly, dismissing my concerns, confident in my brother's robust nature. He patted my shoulder reassuringly. "Odogwu" he called by a nickname he fondly calls me "You worry too much. Emmanuel is a tough guy; he can take care of himself. He's probably listening to loud music as we speak" he concluded as we both laughed.
Admittedly, he was not wrong, Emmanuel was indeed much sturdier than I, most times I wondered why I was so different from him so I found comfort in my friend's words.
That particular day, our plan for the day as a class was to pay a courtesy visit to a hospitalized coursemate who has been out of school for weeks together after lectures. And as one of the class leaders, it was my responsibility to lead the way.
But, as I boarded the bus I hired for the journey with my colleagues, that intuitive voice in me grew louder and stronger, urging me home. I couldn't avoid it any more, so I decided to listen to my inner voice. I suddenly stood up and announced.
"I'm sorry, everyone, but I need to get off the bus. I just remembered that I forgot something important at home," I lied, trying not to sound worried.
My assistant, Lisa, looked at me puzzled. "Are you sure? We're almost there o." She said, with so many questions in her eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure. You can handle things from here?" I replied, my mind set on rushing back to my apartment.
Handing over the day's responsibilities to my trusted assistant, I got off the bus and jumped a bike home.
When I reached my apartment, an eerie silence greeted me. It was so unlike my Emmanuel to be so quiet, especially when there was power. Either he filled the space with music or loud noise from the TV from watching his favorite Nollywood show, but that day, it was as though time had stopped in his absence.
I knocked on the door, hoping for a response, but there was none. The more I got scared, my heart pounded fast. Without thinking I used my own key to unlock the door. What I found inside left me paralyzed with shock and fear.
There, on the floor, was my brother in a pool of his own vomit. Panic surged through my veins, tears welled up my eyes and I lost words to say. I finally called out his name, but there was no response. Frantic, I ran outside to seek help from my neighbors. I desperately needed their help to get him to the hospital as I couldn't lift the hefty guy alone.
I seemed to lose track of my surroundings as we rushed him to the hospital. The doctors worked swiftly to revive him and he was diagnosed with food poisoning from a meal he had ordered online while I was away in school. Unknowingly, he had ingested something that had nearly taken his life, but thanks to my intuition and our timely action, he was saved.
I sat by his side as he recovered in the hospital. But I couldn't help but replay the events in my mind. What if I hadn't listened to that whisper in my heart? What if I had brushed off my intuition as mere paranoia? What if I had continued with the visit? Till today the answers are too terrifying to imagine.
Emmanuel made a full recovery, and he returned to his normal routines of loud music and liveliness.