A man in a Mask

Photo credit: aliexpress

I have a million reasons to thank God. By this time a few years ago I was depressed. I felt vulnerable, hated my life and asked God why He placed me in this country called Nigeria.

It was the festive period and as usual, a time to visit loved ones back home in Enugu.

We travelled in two new vehicles and on that trip we stayed with family. Why waste money in a hotel?

The house was big enough to even accommodate the domestic staff who went with us on that trip.

On the second night, I woke up to discover we had run out of water. Back in the days in Enugu, the water corporation worked efficiently and we drank clean water straight from the tap. These days the taps are dry and the most common source of water is a well.

Many families buy water and store them in tanks; some go an extra mile of connecting pumping machines to the water tanks which causes a lot of wastage.

The soil makes it hard to dig a borehole but some do whatever it takes to actually have one.

The time was past two o clock in the morning and I found it irritating that the generator was still on causing a lot of noise and air pollution. 

Ikay and I were on our way to the water tank through the back door when I suddenly heard a very harsh voice that asked Ikay to move back.

At first I thought to myself that uncle Nonso must be upset to sound that violent and then I looked well to behold what till today is the most terrifying view in my life. 

A man in a mask! There in front of us was a man whose face was masked with a bandana.

A thief? It felt like a scene from a Nollywood movie and I immediately started to look for any possible exit through the wall. I took to my heels without thinking and my destination was my bedroom. 

"Victor Victor, armed robbers!'" As poor hubby got up from the bed, the thief came into the bedroom with Ikay.  "Everybody lie down" I was already on the floor before the command came. 

Victor, Ikay and I were on the floor and I knew Victor was angry. How could he be rubbished and made to act like a little child in front of his wife and steward.

I saw him raise his head and I started to plead with the robber who warned him to face down or have his head blown open.

I heard another robber go to the boys' room and all I could do was pray fervently even while I was being robbed of my phone, money and jewelry.

At that point my one year old baby woke up and started to cry profusely.

When I couldn't stand his trauma anymore I looked up at the thief who permitted me to carry my baby.

Then he marched us to the master bedroom. He locked us in and it was when we were sure he had left that we called out Emeka's name.

Emeka was visiting uncle Nonso and fell asleep in his room before the robbers struck.

"Emeka,  Emeka" Victor called him about four times but he did not move. He spread out face down on the bed like a kneaded dough.

We were convinced that Emeka was dead, the robbers had shot him. Then all of a sudden we heard in a voice that said, "I'm not dead" hahaha!

He was alive but lay still out of fear. He sat up and we spoke in low tones till we heard someone trying to open the door. Like a flash we all went back to our positions. Holding my baby I bowed down like I praying, Victor and Ikay went flat on their faces and Emeka died again. Lol.

I kept thinking about my other children who slept soundly in another room and prayed that God would keep them.

It was another robber who pushed the nanny into the room to be with us. Every time we heard their movements towards the door we were not sure what our fate would be. It was a very long night.

Uncle Nonso has falllen asleep while working  in his office right next to the house and so the robbers locked him in before coming to terrorise us.

After that incident, I couldn't sleep in the night for a very long time, (I still struggle with sleeping at night, I sleep better during the day).

I could never sleep in that same house. I very afraid and grateful all at once.  Those hoodlums could have ended our lives if not for God.

I felt really lonely, like there was nothing to live for if life could be that fragile. 

There was no police line to call and that made realise the level of insecurity in our country.

We changed hotels twice because the first one reminded me of our bedroom in uncle Nonso 's house. 

If there was a good supply of water why would we  venture outside. If there was power the sound of the generator would not have distracted us from realising that we had guests.

Uncle Nonso was in his office just so the generator would be on much longer or till the powee returned.  If not he would have locked up the house and I wouldn't be able to open the door in search of water.

Looking back I'm grateful that I'm still here for that incident could have gone South. 

My boys were spared of the trauma and hubby thought better than to fight an armed man.

When he raised his head he wanted to see if the gun was real and if he would fight the young thief. Thank God he never did.

It's been a while now since the traumatic experience. I look back and thank God for sparing our lives.

In a more advanced society I should have been treated by a trauma expert. The experience was hellish.