I’m Jeo, and my life has been a struggle. My wife Oma and I have been married for 4 years, and it’s been a rollercoaster ride. We’ve had our ups and downs, but lately, it’s been all downs. We have two beautiful daughters, Precious and Gift, and I would do anything to provide for them.
But life has been tough. I work hard, taking on multiple jobs just to put food on the table. Oma has been complaining about our situation, and I understand her frustration. But I never thought she would leave us.
This morning, I woke up to find Oma packing her bag. I thought she was just getting ready for work, but then she dropped the bombshell. “I’m leaving, Jeo. I can’t do this anymore.”
I was shocked. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”
“I’m tired of this life, Jeo. I’m tired of struggling. I need to go hustle with my friends.”
I felt a knot in my stomach. “Oma, please. Don’t do this. Think about our daughters.”
But she was adamant. “I have thought about them, Jeo. And I know they will be better off without me.” She carried her bag and was leaving as I rushed her.
We’re already outside, the argument attracted the attention of our neighbors, and I was embarrassed. Our daughters, Precious and Gift, stood by the door, crying. Oma refused to listen to me, and she pushed me aside.
“Let me go, Jeo. I need to go.”
I felt a surge of anger, but I knew I had to calm down. I didn’t want to make things worse. But Oma was determined to leave.
As she walked out the door, our daughters rushed to hold me tight, crying bitterly. I felt my heart break. How could Oma do this to us?
I held my daughters close, trying to comfort them as they cried. “It’s okay, my loves,” I whispered. “Mommy will come back. She just needs some time.”
But deep down, I knew it was a lie. Oma had made up her mind, and I didn’t know how to change it. I felt a sense of failure, like I had let my family down.
As the days went by, I struggled to take care of our daughters on my own. I worked multiple jobs, but it was hard to balance work and parenting. Precious and Gift were suffering, and I could see the pain in their eyes.
I tried to reach out to Oma, but she ignored my calls and messages. I felt like I was losing my family, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
I started to feel overwhelmed, like I was drowning in responsibilities. I had to work, take care of the girls, and manage the household all by myself. I felt like I was losing myself in the process.
One day, I came home from work to find the girls crying again. They missed their mother, and they didn’t understand why she had left. I felt a surge of anger towards Oma, for putting our girls through this pain.
But I knew I had to stay strong, for my daughters’ sake. I couldn’t afford to break down, not now. So I took a deep breath, and I started to sing their favorite lullaby. Slowly but surely, they calmed down, and they fell asleep in my arms.
As I held them close, I swore that i would do anything to keep them safe. I would work multiple jobs, I would sacrifice my own happiness, just to make sure they were okay.
But as I looked around our small apartment, I knew that I couldn’t do this alone. I needed help, and I needed it fast. That’s when I remembered my sister, Ada. She had always been there for me, and I knew she would help me now.
I picked up the phone, and I dialed her number. As I waited for her to pick up, I felt a sense of desperation. I needed her help, and I needed it fast.
Finally, she answered. “Hey, Jeo. What’s up?”
“Ada, I need your help,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Oma has left me, and I’m struggling to take care of the girls on my own.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Jeo, I’m not around right now. I’m busy with something important.”
I felt a surge of disappointment. “Ada, please. I need your help. The girls are suffering, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I warned you not to marry that girl, Jeo,” Ada said, her voice cold. “But you never listened. Now, it’s not my business. You need to handle it on your own.”
I felt a pang of pain, but I knew I had to keep trying. “Ada, please. Just listen to me. The girls are crying all the time, and they miss their mother. I’m trying my best, but I can’t do it alone.”
But Ada had already made up her mind. “I’m sorry, Jeo. I can’t help you. You need to figure it out on your own.”
And with that, she hung up the phone. I felt a wave of despair wash over me. I was alone, and I had no one to turn to.
Meanwhile, Oma had arrived at her friends’ place, and they were hailing her as a hero. “You’ve made the right decision, Oma,” they said. “You deserve better than Jeo. He’s a loser, and he will never amount to anything.”
Oma smiled, feeling a sense of validation. She had made the right decision, and she was finally free from Jeo’s grasp.
But as she settled into her new life, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt. She knew she had hurt Jeo and the girls, and she couldn’t ignore the pain she had caused.
As the days went by, Oma tried to convince herself that she had made the right decision. But the guilt lingered, and she couldn’t shake it off.
And as for me, I was left to pick up the pieces of my shattered family. I was alone, and I had no one to turn to. But I knew I had to keep going, for the sake of my daughters.
As time went on, the workload became too much for me to handle. I would go to work in the morning, rush to school to pick up the girls in the afternoon, and then return to work again. I was exhausted, but I had no choice. I had to provide for my family, even if it meant sacrificing my own well-being.
I tried to call Oma, but she never answered. I was desperate for help, but she had abandoned us. I was left to fend for myself and our daughters, and it was taking a toll on me.
Most times, I had to beg my neighbors to look after the girls while I was at work. They were kind and understanding, but I knew I couldn’t impose on them forever. I needed a solution, and I needed it fast.
But fate had other plans. One evening, I came back from work to find Gift, my youngest daughter, lying on the bed, her body weak and frail. Precious was by her side, crying uncontrollably.
I was shocked and scared. I didn’t know what was happening to my daughter. I rushed her to the local hospital, my heart racing with fear.
The doctor’s diagnosis was devastating. Gift was suffering from “Separation Anxiety Disorder”, a condition that had developed due to the loss of her mother. It was a serious condition, and the doctor said she needed immediate treatment.
But the cost of the treatment was exorbitant. The doctor asked me to deposit 65 thousand naira before they could start treating her. I was stunned. I begged and begged the doctor to start treating her that i would get the money, he refused, even though it a local hospital.
Where was I going to get that kind of money?
I felt like my world was crashing down around me. I had lost my wife, and now my daughter was sick. I was alone, and I had no one to turn to.
As I sat in the hospital, feeling helpless and defeated, I called my sister but she said she doesn’t have and ended the call.
I realized that I had to find a way. I had to find a way to save my daughter, no matter what it took.
But how? I had no money, no support, and no hope. All I had was my determination to save my family, no matter what it took.
And so, I started to think and same time calling the little friends I had but none of the agreed they have.
I thought about all the possibilities, all the options. And then, it hit me. I remembered a friend who owed me money, a friend who had promised to pay me back but never had.
I decided to reach out to him, to beg him to pay me back what he owed. It was a long shot, but I had to try.
I called him but he said he would call me back. As I waited for my friend’s response, I felt a sense of hope.
But as the hours ticked by, I realized that time was running out. Gift’s condition was worsening, and I needed the money urgently. I couldn’t wait any longer.
I decided to go to my friend’s house, to beg him to pay me back what he owed. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. I had to save my daughter, no matter what it took.
I arrived at my friend’s house, my heart racing with anxiety. I had been waiting for this moment for weeks, and I was determined to get the money he owed me.
I knocked on the door, and he answered, looking surprised to see me. “Hey, Jeo,” he said, trying to sound casual. “What brings you here?”
“I came for my money,” I said, my voice firm but polite. “You owe me 50 thousand naira, and I need it now.”
My friend looked taken aback, and he hesitated for a moment. “I don’t have it,” he said finally. “I haven’t gotten the money yet.”
I felt a surge of anger and frustration. “What do you mean you haven’t gotten the money yet?” I demanded. “You promised me you would pay me back weeks ago. I need that money to pay for my daughter’s treatment.”
My friend shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I know, I know. But I haven’t been able to get it yet. I’ll try to get it soon, I promise.”
I was furious. “Soon” wasn’t good enough for me. I needed the money now, and I was determined to get it.
“Listen,” I said, trying to keep my temper in check. “I need that money now. My daughter is sick, and I need it to pay for her treatment. If you can’t get it, then you’ll have to find someone who can borrow you the money.”
My friend looked at me, a hint of fear in his eyes. He knew I was desperate, and he knew I would do whatever it took to get the money.
“Okay, okay,” he said finally. “I’ll try to get it. But I can’t promise anything.”
I glared at him, my anger and frustration boiling over. “You’d better try,” I said. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of person you are. How you would borrow money I wouldn’t want to pay back.
My friend looked at me, his eyes wide with fear. He knew I meant business, and he knew he had to get the money.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll get it. I promise.”
I glared at him for a moment longer, then turned and walked away.
As I walked out of my friend’s house, I felt a sense of desperation wash over me. I had no other options, no other way to get the money I needed for my daughter’s treatment. I felt like I was at a dead end, like I had nowhere else to turn.
But then, suddenly, I remembered a man I had worked for in the past. He was a rich and successful businessman, but he was also known for being ruthless and dangerous. I had heard rumors that he was involved in illegal activities, that he was not a man to be trifled with.
But I was desperate, and I had no other choice. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number, my heart racing with anxiety.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice deep and menacing.
“Sir, it’s me, Jeo,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need your help. My daughter is sick, and I need money for her treatment. I know you’re a businessman, I will pay you back in a month time sir, can you help me?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I thought he had hung up on me. But then, he spoke.
“I know you, Jeo,” he said. “You worked for me a few years ago. I remember you. You were a good worker, but you were also very foolish. You think you can just call me up and ask for money? You think I’m a charity?”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my fear in check. “No, sir,” I said. “I know you’re a businessman. I will pay you back sir. Please I just need 60 thousand naira, and I have 5 thousand with me already. Please, sir, can you help me?”
There was another pause, and then he spoke.
“Okay, Jeo,” he said. “I’ll give you the money. But the interest on that 60 thousand naira is 20 thousand naira.
You’ll have to pay me back 80 thousand naira in a month’s time.
Ahhhhh. I shouted, but there’s no other way. Okay sir please just hell me so I can save my daughter.
He paused. If you don’t pay by that time, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
I hesitated, my heart racing with fear. I knew I was getting into something dangerous, something that could put me and my family at risk. But I had no other choice. I had to save my daughter.
“Yes, sir,” I said finally. “I understand. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much.”
He asked me to send my account number, and with within some minutes, he deposited the money.
Then, I rushed to the hospital and paid for my daughter’s treatment. I felt a sense of relief wash over me, but I knew it was temporary. I knew I had just made a deal with the devil, and I would have to pay the price sooner or later.
As I sat by my daughter’s bedside, watching her, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. I had just gotten myself into a dangerous situation, and I didn’t know how I was going to get out of it. But I knew I had to be strong, for my daughter’s sake. I had to be brave, no matter what.
And so, I sat there, holding my daughter’s hand, praying for her recovery, and praying for a way out of the mess I had just gotten myself into.
Two days later, we are back from the hospital now…
As I sat by my daughter’s bedside, precious laying on the second bed, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows. I knew it was just my imagination, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I jumped up, my heart racing with fear. I didn’t know who it could be, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good.
I slowly made my way to the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I peeked through the peephole, and my heart sank. It was the businessman, the one who had loaned me the money. How did he get to know my house? I asked myself.
I opened the door, trying to hide my fear. “Hello, sir,” I said, trying to sound calm.
“Jeo,” he said, his voice cold and menacing. “I see you’re taking good care of your daughter. That’s good. That’s very good.”
I nodded, trying to hide my fear. “Yes, sir. Thank you for your help.”
He smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, it was no problem, Jeo. I’m always happy to help out a friend in need. But now, I need something from you.”
My heart sank. I knew this was it. This was the moment I had been dreading.
“What do you need, sir?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I need you to do a job for me,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “A little favor, that’s all. Are you interested?”
I hesitated, my heart racing with fear. I knew I had no choice, but I also knew that this was dangerous. This was very dangerous.
“Yes, sir,” I said finally. “I’m interested.”
He smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. I knew you would be. I’ll give you the details later. But for now, let’s just say that it’s a little job, a small favor. And if you do it well, I’ll forgive your debt. You won’t have to pay me back a thing.”
I nodded, trying to hide my fear. I knew I had no choice, but I also knew that this was dangerous. This was very dangerous.
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to wonder what I had just gotten myself into.
As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. I had just agreed to do a job for a dangerous man, a man who was known for his ruthless tactics. I didn’t know what the job was, but I knew it couldn’t be good.
I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind, focusing on my daughter’s recovery instead. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease, the feeling that I had just made a deal with the devil himself.
As the days passed, my daughter slowly began to recover. She was still weak and frail, but she was getting better. And I was grateful, so grateful to have her back in my life.
But the businessman didn’t forget about me. He kept calling me, asking me when I would be ready to start the job. And I kept putting him off, telling him that I needed more time.
But I knew I couldn’t put him off forever. Eventually, I would have to face the music, and do the job he had asked me to do. And I was terrified, so terrified of what might happen.
One night, as I was sitting by my daughter’s bedside, I heard a knock on the door. I jumped up, my heart racing with fear. I didn’t know who it could be, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good.
I slowly made my way to the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I peeked through the peephole, and my heart sank. It was the businessman, and he didn’t look happy.
“Jeo,” he said, his voice cold and menacing. “It’s time to talk about the job. Are you ready?”
I hesitated, my heart racing with fear. I didn’t know what the job was, but I knew it couldn’t be good.
“I’m not ready,” I said, trying to sound brave. “I need more time.”
He smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, Jeo,” he said. “You’re not in a position to be making demands. You owe me, and you need to pay up. Are you going to do the job, or do we need to take this to the next level?”
I knew I had no choice. I had to do the job, no matter how dangerous it was. And so, I nodded, my heart heavy with fear.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll do the job.”
He smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good,” he said. “I knew you would see things my way. Now, let’s get down to business. The job is simple. All you have to do is deliver a package to a certain location. That’s it. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”
I nodded, trying to hide my fear. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
He handed me a package, a small box wrapped in brown paper. “This is it,” he said. “Deliver it to the address on the package. And don’t try anything funny, or you’ll regret it.”
I took the package, my heart racing with fear. I knew I had to do this, but I also knew it was dangerous. And I was scared, so scared of what might happen.
As I walked out of the house, package in hand, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. I was in over my head, and I knew it. But I had to do this, for my two daughter’s sake. And so, I took a deep breath, and I started walking.
I walked for what felt like hours, the package clutched in my hand. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to keep moving. The streets were dark and deserted, and I could feel eyes watching me from the shadows.
Suddenly, I heard a faint whisper in my ear. “Jeo, you’re getting close.” I spun around, but there was no one there. The whisper seemed to come from all around me, echoing off the buildings.
I quickened my pace, my heart racing with fear. I didn’t know what was waiting for me at the end of this journey, but I knew it couldn’t be good.
As I turned a corner, I saw a faint light in the distance. It was a small building, surrounded by a high fence. I knew this was my destination.
I approached the building cautiously, my senses on high alert. I could feel something watching me, something waiting for me.
As I reached the door, it swung open with a creak. I hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, with only a single flickering candle to light the way. I could see a figure in the shadows, watching me.
“Welcome, Jeo,” the figure said, its voice low and menacing. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. I knew I was in grave danger, and I didn’t know how to escape.
The figure stepped forward, its features illuminated by the candlelight. It was a woman, her face twisted with cruelty.
“You have something that belongs to me,” she said. As she come closer to me.
As the woman approached me, her eyes fixed greedily on the package in my hand. I knew I had to think fast, or risk losing everything.
But to my surprise, she simply reached out and snatched the package from my grasp. “Thank you, Jeo,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve been very helpful.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the package and pulled out its contents. But my relief was short-lived, as she turned to me with a cold smile.
“You’re free to go,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “But remember, we’re always watching. And if you try to cross us again, you’ll regret it.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I turned and ran, not stopping until I was back in the safety of my own home. I locked the door behind me, my heart still racing with fear.
As the days passed, I thought I had finally found some semblance of peace. I had delivered the package, and I had thought that would be the end of it. But little did I know, the businessman had other plans.
It started with a knock on the door, a familiar knock that sent my heart racing. I knew who it was, even before I opened the door. The businessman stood before me, a sly smile spreading across his face.
“Jeo, my old friend,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I have another package for you to deliver.”
My heart sank, my mind racing with thoughts of protest. I had thought I was done with this, done with the danger and the uncertainty. But it seemed I was wrong.
“I can’t do it,” I said, trying to sound firm. “I delivered the last package, just like you asked. You promised to let me go, to forgive the debt I owe you.”
The businessman chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, Jeo,” he said. “You really are so naive. I never said I would forgive the debt. I just said I would let you go, for now.”
I felt a surge of anger, a sense of betrayal. “You lied to me,” I spat, trying to keep my temper in check.
The businessman shrugged, his smile never wavering. “I did what I had to do,” he said. “And now, you have to do what I say. Deliver this package, or face the consequences.”
I stood my ground, my heart pounding in my chest. “I won’t do it,” I said, trying to sound brave. “I won’t be a part of your illegal activities anymore.”
The businessman’s smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with anger. “Fine,” he said. “If you won’t do it, then maybe a little persuasion will help.”
He pulled out a phone, his fingers flying across the keyboard. I knew what he was doing, knew that he was calling in the reinforcements.
“You see, Jeo,” he said, his voice dripping with menace. “I have friends in high places. Friends who owe me favors. And if you don’t do what I say, I’ll make sure they come after you.”
I felt a chill run down my spine, a sense of fear creeping in. I knew I was in trouble, knew that I had to think fast.
But I refused to back down, refused to give in to his threats. “I won’t do it,” I said, trying to sound firm. “I won’t be a part of this anymore.”
The businessman’s face turned red with anger, his eyes blazing with fury. “Fine,” he spat. “If you won’t do it, then maybe a little jail time will change your mind.”
He turned and stormed off, leaving me shaken and scared. I knew I had to think fast, knew that I had to come up with a plan before it was too late.
Should I run away?. What then will happen to my two daughters. I knew he would come back for me.
But as I stood there, my mind racing with thoughts of protest, I knew that I was in grave danger. I was in a game of cat and mouse, and I wasn’t sure if I would come out on top.
Two days later, I was getting ready for work, my mind still reeling from the threat the businessman had made. I was trying to push the thoughts aside, focusing on the day ahead, when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to find the businessman standing there, flanked by two police officers.
“Jeo, you’re under arrest,” one of the officers said, their voice firm but detached.
I felt a surge of panic, my heart racing with fear. “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
The businessman smiled, his eyes glinting with triumph. “You didn’t deliver the package, Jeo,” he said. “You refused to do what I asked. And now, you have to pay the price.”
I begged them to let me go, to please reconsider. I told them about my daughters, about how they needed me, about how Gift was still recovering from her illness. But they refused to listen, their faces impassive.
As they led me away in handcuffs, my daughters cried out in terror. “Daddy, don’t go!” they wailed, their small voices piercing my heart.
I tried to comfort them, to tell them everything would be okay, but they were inconsolable. They clung to me, their small arms wrapped around my legs, as if they could physically hold me back.
“Please,” I begged the officers, “have mercy. My daughters need me. They can’t lose me too.”
But they just dragged me away, ignoring my pleas. I was thrown into a cell, the cold metal door slamming shut behind me. I was left alone, my thoughts consumed by fear and anxiety.
What would happen to my daughters? Who would take care of them? Gift was still recovering, still fragile. What if something happened to her? What if she needed me and I wasn’t there?
The thoughts swirled in my head, a never-ending cycle of worry and despair. I was trapped, helpless, and alone.
As I sat in the cold, dark cell, my mind racing with thoughts of my daughters, I knew I had to act fast. I begged one of the officers, a kind-looking man with a sympathetic gaze, to please let me use his phone. I promised to only make one call, to a trusted neighbor who could help take care of my girls.
The officer hesitated, then handed me his phone. I quickly dialed Amaka’s number, my heart racing with anxiety. When she answered, I poured out my story, begging her to please, please take care of my daughters. I knew I could trust her, and she promised to do everything she could.
As I handed the phone back to the officer, I felt a small sense of relief. But it was short-lived, as the businessman walked into the cell, a smug smile spreading across his face. He was flanked by his side chick, a woman I had never seen before, and my heart sank as I realized who the third person was.
My wife.
Tears streamed down my face as I saw her, my mind reeling with shock and anger. How could she do this to me? How could she betray me like this?
The businessman seemed to enjoy my pain, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Ah, Jeo,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “I see you’re finally starting to understand the situation. You see, your wife and I have been… associates for some time now. And she’s been helping me with my business ventures.”
I couldn’t hold back my rage, my words tumbling out in a torrent of anger. “You are here, and your daughter is dying at home! What a shame!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls of the cell.
My wife flinched, her eyes filling with tears as she turned and fled the cell. The businessman chuckled, his side chick giggling along with him.
But I was beyond caring. I was consumed by my anger, my hatred for this man and his corrupt ways. And when he asked me, his voice dripping with sarcasm, if I was ready to do what he had asked of me, I spat in his face.
“Go to hell,” I snarled, my words venomous. “I’ll never do your bidding. I’ll never betray my daughters like you’ve betrayed me.”
As the days dragged on, I lost all sense of time. Five days felt like an eternity in that cold, dark cell. I had given up hope, resigned to my fate. But then, a glimmer of light in the darkness. The police officer who had shown me kindness earlier returned, his face somber.
“Jeo, someone wants to talk to you,” he said, his voice low.
I took the phone, my heart racing with anticipation. And then I heard Amaka’s voice, her words piercing my soul.
“Jeo, it’s Gift. Her health is worsening again. I’m so scared.”
My world came crashing down around me. I felt like I was drowning, suffocating under the weight of my helplessness.
“Take her to the local hospital,” I begged, my voice shaking with fear. “Please, Amaka, don’t let anything happen to her.”
The hours ticked by like days, each minute an eternity. And then Amaka called back, her voice trembling.
“Jeo, the doctor says we need to pay 100 thousand for her treatment. I’ve deposited 50 thousand, but that’s all I have. I don’t know what to do.”
I felt like I was going mad, trapped in this cell while my daughter’s life hung in the balance. I begged the police officers, pleaded with them to release me. I promised to do anything, just let me go so I could get the money for Gift’s treatment.
But they refused, their faces impassive. I was at their mercy, and they showed me none. I was trapped, helpless, and alone. And my daughter’s life was slipping away.
The next day, I requested to see the businessman, my heart heavy with desperation. When he arrived, I swallowed my pride and told him I was willing to do the deal, to deliver the package, to do whatever he wanted. But he just sneered at me, his eyes glinting with malice.
“Too late, Jeo,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “You had your chance, and you spat in my face. Now, you’ll regret ever crossing me.”
I pleaded with him, told him about Gift’s worsening health, about the doctor’s demands for payment. But he just shrugged, his face cold and unyielding.
“Not my problem, Jeo,” he said. “You should have thought of that before you decided to cross me. Now, you’ll have to face the consequences.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me shattered and hopeless. Two days left, and I was no closer to freedom. Amaka called again, her voice trembling with worry.
“Jeo, I borrowed 30 thousand and deposited it, but the doctor is refusing to treat Gift unless we pay the full amount. I don’t know what to do.”
I wept in the cell, my body shaking with despair. I begged the police officers, pleaded with them to release me, to let me go and find a way to pay for my daughter’s treatment. But they just looked at me, their faces unyielding, their hearts cold and unfeeling.
And so I remained, trapped and helpless, as my daughter’s life hung in the balance. Time was running out, and I was running out of options.
The next day, I frantically called my wife with the police man’s phone, desperate for any glimmer of hope. I knew her uncle had connections in the police force, I needed to beg her to use them to secure my release. But she ignored my calls and my text, her silence deafening.
I was alone, with no one to turn to. The weight of my situation crushed me, and I sat in that cold, dark cell, tears streaming down my face. I wept for my daughter, for my family, for the life that was slipping away from me.
Some of the police officers pitied me, their faces softening with sympathy. But they were powerless to help me, bound by their duty to follow orders. They knew the businessman’s influence, his reach and his ruthlessness. They knew that crossing him would mean risking their own jobs and lives.
So they stood by, helpless, as I cried out my despair. The sound of my sobs echoed off the walls of the cell, a haunting reminder of my desperation. I was trapped, with no escape, no respite from the torment that gripped me.
The hours ticked by, each one an eternity. I was lost in a sea of despair, unable to find a lifeline. My mind raced with thoughts of Gift, of her fragile health, of the doctor’s demands for payment. I was her only hope, and I was failing her.
The darkness closed in around me, suffocating me. I was drowning in a ocean of hopelessness, unable to find a shore to cling to. My cries grew hoarse, my body exhausted, my spirit crushed. And still, I waited, waited for a miracle that seemed forever out of reach.
The next day dawned, and I was still trapped in my despair, my cries echoing off the cold walls of the cell. But fate, in its infinite mercy, had a surprise in store for me. A high-powered lawyer, renowned for his tireless advocacy, happened to visit the station that day. As he walked through the corridors, my anguished cries pierced the air, reaching his ears and touching his heart.
Moved by my desperation, he sought me out, his eyes locking onto mine with a deep understanding. He listened, entranced, as I poured out my story, my tears flowing like a river. And with each word, his resolve grew stronger. He knew he had to act, to rescue me from this abyss of sorrow.
With a swift motion, he paid my bail, securing my release from the cell that had held me captive for so long. And then, with a generosity that left me breathless, he paid off the debt I owed the businessman, freeing me from that burden as well.
I thanked him, my voice choked with emotion, but I couldn’t linger. I had to reach the hospital, had to see my Gift, had to hold her in my arms once more. The lawyer understood, his eyes filled with compassion. He drove me to the hospital himself, his silence a comforting balm to my frazzled nerves.
As we arrived, my heart raced with anticipation and fear. I rushed into the hospital room, my eyes scanning the space for my daughter. And then I saw her, lying still and silent, her tiny body fragile and vulnerable. Precious, my older daughter, sat beside her, tears streaming down her face as she called out to her sister, begging her to wake up.
Amaka stood nearby, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, her face etched with grief. I felt a scream building in my throat, a wail of agony that threatened to consume me whole. I tried to hold it back, but it burst forth, a raw and primal cry that shook the very foundations of my soul.
I collapsed beside Gift’s bed, my arms wrapping around her lifeless body, holding her close as if I could will her back to life. The lawyer tried to comfort me, his arms encircling me in a warm embrace, but I couldn’t be consoled. I was lost in a sea of sorrow, drowning in a grief so profound it seemed to have a life of its own.
I wept, my body shaking with anguish, my mind reeling with the thought of a world without Gift in it. I held her close, my tears falling onto her still face, my heart shattered into a million pieces.
And in that moment, I knew that I would never be the same again, that a part of me had died along with my precious daughter.
I now have one daughter precious, I would do anything to keep her safe, tears still rolling down….
As we cried in that hospital room, our tears mingling with our sorrow, the lawyer’s face set in a determined expression. He vowed to ensure that justice would be served, that those responsible for Gift’s fate would be held accountable. His words were a balm to my soul, a promise of hope in the midst of despair.
And true to his word, the lawyer took up the case with a ferocity that left me in awe. He gathered evidence, interviewed witnesses, and built a formidable case against the businessman and the police officers involved. The days passed, each one a blur of activity as the lawyer worked tirelessly to bring the perpetrators to justice.
Finally, the day of reckoning arrived. The lawyer took the case to court, and the businessman was served with court papers. A new police unit, one that was untainted by corruption, took over the investigation. They dug deep, uncovering a web of deceit and illegal activities that the businessman had been involved in for years.
My case was just the tip of the iceberg, a small part of a larger conspiracy that had ruined countless lives. The evidence mounted, and the businessman’s guilt became undeniable. The judge’s verdict was swift and decisive: 60 years in prison, a sentence that reflected the severity of his crimes.
As I heard the verdict, a sense of relief washed over me. Justice had been served, and the businessman would spend the rest of his days behind bars, a reminder that corruption and greed would not be tolerated. The lawyer’s efforts had brought closure to my family, and we could finally begin to heal.
But even as we found solace in the verdict, I knew that the memory of Gift would never fade. She would always be with me, a reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of fighting for what is right. And I would continue to fight, to ensure that no other family would suffer as we had, that no other child would lose their life to the greed of men.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, my life began to take a new shape. The lawyer, who had become a close friend, connected me with a reputable company, and I started working, slowly rebuilding my life. The job was a blessing, a chance to start anew, and I threw myself into it, determined to make a better future for myself and my family.
And then, a few months later, something unexpected happened. Amaka, who had been a constant source of support and comfort, became more than just a friend. We realized that our feelings for each other went beyond mere friendship, and we decided to take the plunge and get married.
It was a beautiful ceremony, surrounded by friends and family, and I finally felt like I had found happiness again. But, as it often does, life had a surprise in store for me. My ex-wife, who had abandoned me in my darkest hour, suddenly reappeared, her eyes fixed on the newfound stability and prosperity in my life.
But, as she approached, I couldn’t help but notice that something was off. She looked sick, her once-radiant skin now pale and gaunt, her eyes sunken and tired. And then, it hit me – she was sick, her body wracked by some unknown disease.
I was taken aback, my mind reeling with the implications. This was the woman who had left me to rot in prison, who had ignored my pleas for help when I needed it most. And now, she was back, expecting what? Sympathy? Support? A place to stay?
I looked at Amaka, my wife, my partner, my rock. And I knew what I had to do. I told my ex-wife, in no uncertain terms, that she was not welcome here. That she had made her choices, and now she had to live with them. That I had moved on, found happiness with someone else, and that she needed to go back to wherever she came from.
It was a hard moment, but I knew it was the right one. I had found my happiness, my peace, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from me again.
I Believe We All Learnt And Are Inspired By This Story.
The End…
