We warned him! The pastor warned him! He received a warning from us. We told him that place was not safe. We told him to be here that night for the church vigil. He was warned I repeat! He cannot blame us. We refuse to feel pity for him!
My elders, I know he was warned. He was a stubborn fellow. In that stubbornness and rigidity he always told me my food tasted like heaven. Sometimes, the way he said it made me feel like one day we would end up having a life together. That is what I remember the most.
Stop talking Woman! He was told! He was told that place would lead to his end. There are several ghettos to live in, but he never wanted to leave this one. He would always say he wanted to move from here to a gated community. We tried to tell him that life was something to be taken slowly but he would not listen. Children of these times! We warned him!
“Hello, sorry to interrupt you. My name is Sira. I knew him. He was fair, from Akwa Ibom and always helped to lock up the church after sunday service. I can imagine the look in his eyes when that gun was pointed to his head. I can imagine that the taste of Woman’s food was one of the things he thought about in those last moments. I am troubled because I saw him 3 days prior to his departure but I cannot remember his smile.”