It is Friday, the sky is gloomy as if it is in collaboration with the mourning too, today is the funeral service. Your father has been charged and transferred to white house prison where he awaits trial, you still don’t go to visit him or think about it.
I was still in an awe when I was jolted back into reality and the time now was 5:47 PM and two nurses came to move my body to the morgue. I walked out from the Hospital this time not through the doors but through the walls. I spent my time on the streets watching as people went about their daily business
James was my elder brother; he was two years older than me. My father had just died, and we all sat in the blindingly white waiting room in the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital—James, our Aunty Grace, our help Agnes, and I—waiting for my mom. Aunty Grace had called her immediately it happened.
For everything I have become or obtained at any particular time, whether good or bad, it has been largely as a result of the people I called friends at that time. So I say to you, if you have found good friends, the ones that spur you on to success, hold them closely. They are rare, sometimes once in a life time.
As if his brain had suddenly re-booted itself again, with one burst of energy, Segun rushed to the victim of the car accident, who laid helplessly bleeding on the floor, picked her up and put her at the back seat of his spacious G-Wagon. The victim’s sister then climbed the front passenger’s seat as Segun drove to the nearest hospital around, what kept on going on in his mind was “God please don’t let her die, please God”
It wasn’t my fault I was laid off, discarded like a worn, dirty rag if I were speaking the truth, but it seems the truth couldn’t save me from being called a thief by the chairman, who had once told me that I was the future of the company. In his own words, “you young bloods are what this paper needs” And truly, I had the nose for front page news.