This is not a story. Not from the way the events kicked off and played out before my very eyes. One minute, I was positioned beside the metal detectors, monitoring customers as they entered and exited the banking hall, the next, I was having unsolicited romance with the floor, the detectors blown to shreds; funny, how I was still breathing. Good Bank (not the real name), Agbarho was about to experience its first grand larceny. Today was definitely one of those mornings I wished I’d skipped work. Literally and figuratively.

“If you know wetin good for you, cooperate with us” , one of them – obviously their leader from his build – screamed at the panting bank manager. “Arrange 50 milla there. No sime–sime. We carry gun and we nor dey fear to use am.” He fired at the ceiling, backing his words with action. A hale of dust and ceiling particles rained down, and a bar of sunlight shot through the hole. It looked like the eye of a monster Sofia, my wife and I had watched while we had sex on the sofa, with Jude my son sleeping in the room. He waved the gloomy weapon in his hands, gesturing to the black duffel bags they came with. Five bags. Five men.

It was pretty much a smooth operation—the prospects were eye-glaring. I prided myself with the knowledge of evaluating a scheme quickly. It was more of a necessity for my survival. From where I was, I could see a handful of the customers, heads bowed, and mumbling prayers to whoever cared to listen to them. The bank manager’s eyes were already wide with enough fear to carry out exactly what they’d commanded. But this entire fiasco had a fatal flaw. My sidearm was still in my possession, pressed under my weight. I thought of my wife, we had a little argument before I left in the morning . I remembered Jude, my son – I was to pick up his new school uniform from Taye, the neighbourhood tailor. I thought of my family because I would be doing something rash. ‘I’m gonna save you, baby! I’ll be your hero! I thought.

The bank manager had already begun moving away from the banking hall, two of them closing in on him as he made for the vaults. A tiny hesitation at the entrance as his fingers rapped rapidly on the electronic panel propped by the side of the vault. The door hissed like an airlock opening, and they slipped in. I saw my chance…. ‘Don’t be a hero, Mike. You’ve got a wife and a son’, a rational part of my mind said …and I took it. Still lying down, my hands moved deftly to grab my weapon, and I rolled off on one side and squeezed off two rounds in the opposite direction. I watched as the bullets slammed into the back of the heads of the two men watching the door. Down they went. Lifeless.

The hall erupted in screams. I took aim and squeezed off a round on the third guy before he could get a hold of himself. Three down. Two to go. By this time, everyone had started to flee the scene through the entrance that had been ripped apart. I raced towards the counter before me, my eyes never leaving the vault entrance. I was banking on my intuition that one of them would come out, guns blazing. He did and he was faster. He fired first. I was sure it was going to sink into my chest, but it grazed my shoulder blade. I leaped, released a set of double-taps and ducked back down. Thud. Numb to the pain on my shoulder, I stood up and aimed the barrel at the entrance. A pregnant silence hung in the air—even as seconds ticked away like heavy artillery in my head.

“DROP YOUR WEAPON OR I GO BLOW E HEAD COMOT!” shouted the last robber from inside the vault, breaking the silence. Then they came into view. The bank manager came out first, hands raised to the high heavens in total surrender. It was hard to pick off the last guy, because he was well covered behind the manager’s bulky frame. I knew he had a nozzle to the back of Manager’s head. Great. Just great. “DROP YOUR GUN!” He boomed again, and bumped the BM’s head. I got the message. But still… “I GO SHOO—” “Shoot am sef,” I countered, cutting him off. “Who e help?” “What?” He shifted in surprise of my answer, and I squeezed off a round just a few inches shy from the BM’s armpit. It hit him squarely in his chest and reeled him backwards. Dead.

* Maybe I should publish a book or something. Seriously. I mean, that’s a much better ending than what TRULY happened- that I snored on the floor throughout the entire operation. When I woke up, the bank had already been relieved of over 60 million naira, and one staff got sacked. Just one staff.

Care to guess who it was?

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Don't be a hero

Nice one..