Andy Eze @andyeze

I awoke to the commotion with a start, the sound of screeching tires and slamming doors reverberating through the neighborhood. Jumping out of bed.
It was up the neighbourhood, a team from the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) had swooped in, surrounding a grand three-story building where some individuals had been residing. It was barely past 4 am, and the whole scene was both surreal and unnerving.

Out of the chaos, two figures managed to evade the authorities, each using their own methods of escape. One of them, probably possessed by a fleeting moment of courage, made a dramatic leap over the fence at the back of the compound and dashed into the night. The other, more cunning and resourceful, chose to hide out in the building's ceiling, skillfully covering his tracks. It was a scene straight out of an action movie, and despite the seriousness of the situation, a part of me couldn't help but marvel at their audacity and quick thinking as I listened to people who were present during the live action recounted the incident.

The ensuing chaos saw some of the residents' cars being seized while the male occupants were escorted away and loaded into the awaiting vans. The building, once aglow with the energetic hum of life, now stood as a graveyard after they zoomed off with the victims

I couldn't help but wonder about the individuals who had been taken away and the events that had led to this dramatic and unexpected turn of events. The neighborhood had been forever changed in the blink of an eye, leaving in its wake a palpable sense of unease and uncertainty. As the day unfolded and life began to return to its normal rhythm, the memory of that intense morning lingered, a stark reminder of the fragility and unpredictability of the world we live in.

During my early teens, my family and I had a familiar path that we often followed, lined with a towering breadfruit tree. The tree's sprawling branches cast shade over a considerable stretch of the path, and it was common knowledge that people would always hurry through this part of the route to avoid the peril of a breadfruit falling on them.

Over time, countless tales had circulated about unsuspecting individuals getting struck by falling breadfruits, resulting in serious injuries. Despite this, on one particular day, my family and I decided that we would not succumb to fear. "Why should we run today when we never had a breadfruit fall on us before?" we reasoned.

As we ventured down the narrow path, we watched another person take a leisurely stroll beneath the breadfruit tree and felt a surge of anxiety and unease. Moments later, a loud crash reverberated through the air, and we all turned to see a breadfruit plummet to the ground. Terrified, we screamed and sprinted in every direction.

In the aftermath, as we caught our breath, we pondered the narrow escape. "What if we had merely walked as we had planned?" we mused. It was a valuable lesson learned: sometimes, heeding warnings and being cautious is more than just an old superstition.