In less than three weeks, four death-related cases had been confirmed again, making it altogether six premature deaths for the whole month. Unilorin wasn’t getting safe anymore, neither were the students.
The rivalry between gangs and various cult groups placed many in danger. People no longer felt safe during day-time anymore, talk more of at night. Most people even boycotted classes and lectures just to avoid stories that touch.
However, so far so good, none of the impending danger and chaos of the school seemed to affect me. I stayed off campus alone by myself, until Miracle, my friend and course mate, decided to join me over. She was visibly terrified and scared like I was but didn’t show it out much. I admired her confidence.
Nevertheless, in as much as I did fancy and enjoy her company with me, it also brought in more disturbance and an awful bearing of pressure from her friends who became aware of her stay with me. They wanted using that opportunity as an advantage to themselves, to persuade her into convincing me towards making out space for them to move in, but I always declined; due to the fact that the room was small and already crumpled up. Taking more people in would mean forfeiting my own convenience and privacy to satisfy others.
I wasn’t willing to do that, not yet, at least.
Also judging from the type of lifestyle I lived, most people would normally say I act too reserved like a Jew-man who knows nothing, probably because I didn’t keep friends and associate more socially like my peer. Some considered it pride. Some said it’s low self-esteem. Some even went further to say it’s probably religion taking its toll on me, just for being an introvert. To show you how funny people could get at times.
However, be it as it may, I specially enjoyed the criticism and sceptical buzz they made. It made me feel special in a kind of way.
After all, I was in my mid-twenties; old enough to make choices of my own. I rarely used make-up. I avoided dressing extravagantly. I also avoided being too lavish and pompous unnecessarily. Yet, people still talk.
I wasn’t holy, neither was I pure. But I liked being neutral! In other words, I loved being natural.
I took after my father’s height. I was tall, but not too tall like he was. Likewise my late mother’s chocolate skin complexion. I was a complete replica of her in many ways. One would mistakenly take us as sisters on a normal day if care wasn’t taken. She looked so young and vibrant and was very healthy that, in fact, I never predicted her dying any time soon. It just happened.
She slept and didn’t wake up again, just like that. Since then, I ceased faith in God. He never existed to me.
That was years ago.
In less than a week, the third semester examination was to begin. I began getting prepared little by little by taking study sessions with Mimi when she wasn’t occupied. Or most times, I just spent time in the library alone.
We used to have a group study session at night in the Lecture Hall before, where majority of students do gather and click heads together to brainstorm. Everything changed since the recent slaughter here and there in the school. Nobody had the guts to show up again.
On a particular day, almost at dusk in the evening, I had returned home from the library with some chips and noodles which I got on my way. I was very famished and tired. I met Mimi sprawled up on the bed with books scattered all over. She didn’t seem to notice me enter, as she seemed too engrossed with whoever it was she talked with on the line. I just shrugged and made my way to the shower for a bath.
After that, I changed into bum-shorts and a casual T-shirt then proceeded to the kitchen to cook. It wasn’t that much big of a kitchen though, but it served us good. It was convenient.
I placed a pot of water on fire and took out the basin where we stored food items into to take out onions, but there wasn’t any. It was empty. I then checked the cupboard too but didn’t still find any.
“Did you use the last onion here?” I echoed from the kitchen to Miracle, but she didn’t respond.
“Did you use the last onion?” I repeated.
“What?” She answered.
“I said did you use the last onion here?”
“I can’t hear you. Speak louder!”
I didn’t respond again. Instead, I grabbed my purse and took the back door to the passageway which led to the streets.
The atmosphere was pitch black and dark.
I had barely walked half a kilometre when three flashlights suddenly beamed upon me from different angles.