That Bloody Election

I still shudder at the memory of that fateful day. I had gone to vote with my friend, Ede, in Lagos. We were excited to exercise our civic duty and have a say in our country's future.

But as we approached the polling unit, we were met with a scene from hell. Political thugs, armed to the teeth, were terrorizing voters, snatching ballot papers, and destroying voting materials. The police were nowhere to be found, or perhaps they were complicit in the chaos.

Ede and I tried to flee, but we were caught by the thugs. They beat us mercilessly, leaving us for dead. I remember seeing Ede's bloody face, her eyes pleading for help that never came.

Somehow, I managed to crawl to a nearby house, where a kind old woman took me in and nursed me back to health. But Ede was not so lucky. She died a few days later from her injuries.

That day, I lost my friend, my faith in the system, and my hope for a better Nigeria. But I gained a resolve to fight for justice, to ensure that no one else suffers the same fate as Ede.

I now work with a local NGO, advocating for electoral reform and an end to political violence. It's a small step, but I know that together, we can create a Nigeria where votes are not met with violence, and democracy is not a blood sport.