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By Ejike Anyaduba
It was close to mid-night on January 20th, 2025, when a car, snaking dangerously and beaming its headlights behind, overtook me at Nawfia and slowed down abruptly.
Panicky, I tugged at the pigeonhole of my car to pull out a stun gun almost at the same time my friend was fiddling with his bag for a tear gas canister. In the confused state we did not reckon that both items have no sufficient impact on target and would quicken our journey to death if identified.
My friend had advised against over speeding, insisting I pull over a gas station by the road side in order to confirm if we were being tailed. I declined the advice with the benefit of hindsight and pedaled to the metal. But it was not long before the car closed up on us.
Craning his neck out of the window, the driver muttered some insane words, cocked us a snook and sped off.
They were no kidnappers, but mere road-hogs, indulging the excesses of the New Year.
We offered a quick prayer of thanksgiving and drove on.
Ejike Anyaduba
Abatete
