This were is exact words

*this is a true life story* (1)

she would have been 17 years old today,19th of December.I'm still stuck with her memory,only if she had listened to me.The worst is,I let her die,I saw her end and led her straight to it.
The shock hasn't worn off,after 7 years since her demise,seeing her headless body,knowing...it could have been my headless body.I would be at peace knowing she was safe ,still alive,knowing she was going to write that exam,the exam that she risked it all for.The image of her headless body and her mutilated lady parts has been cemented in my mind ever since ,God knows that I died on the Inside,I cried for weeks,I fell sick,I starved, I left Ogun for Lagos.....home!.
Only if she listened to me,I watched her run off into the bushes,with a trail of dust ,I ran after her,tried to stop her...I failed.She wanted to get her notes and exam card prior to our Monday exams,she got what she wanted ,felt fulfilled....Ignoring the warning that we shouldn't go past our dinning halls,it was an uncertain beyond at that time...there was a festival,I think they called it óró...few knew the gravity of what would become of those that disobeyed.
I held her hands,pleaded,"don't go,ul get us killed",she said;"God is on our side,he will never forsake us"...at that staement, the clouds went dark,night fell on us.
we were stuck in a classroom,we couldn't sleep there!,we had to go back to our hostels ,but we could both get killed!.I had to do something,I was willing to die for her,never wanted to see her hurt,so I decided to run as quickly as i possibly could,to the boys hostel and get help,while she would lock herself in the class till my return,if I return.
Before I could pick up my shoes to 'tear race',I turned to say goodbye,to my greatest surprise,she already started running ahead of me,my mouth went dry,hot tears ran down my cheeks, my legs went limp.
.I screamed her name!...oh!...that was the moment I realised I just killed her.I gathered my breath and chased her,but I ran and ran till I got to the dinning hall,our sanctuary,but no sign of her,the hall spinned,the light flashed brighter,I gasped for air,but....
I woke up the next morning ,a much brighter day,noise from the hostels,i looked around...I couldnt recognise where I was immediately, i wasn't in the boys hostel?...I realised I was at the clinic,and a drip was connected to my arm,my legs felt numb,I remembered 'her'...I yanked off the needles from my veins and sped out to search for her,the clinic was empty, but something stained the atmosphere, distant wails....coming from the bush path ,yes that Bush path.

I ran!,I saw a gathering...I cleared the gathering, I got to the center and I froze!...her body soaked in blood,her yellow check gown,torn to shreds,my eyes moved above her shoulders and her head was missing,my eyes felt heavy, but no tears escaped....she was fucking headless...I didn't even realise my arms were bleeding profusely,I looked beside her body,I saw her elder brother, my school father crying like a baby starved for days...my classmates,her friends, our friends screaming and struggling,it was too much to take,the skies vanished,my eyes felt open but I saw nothing,i thought I had died.
I woke up to find myself in lagos..... the nightmares came soon,the internal torture I endured,unparalleled pain.
I accepted my fate, and reconciling with my present,trying to find happiness in every little thing.she was the feminist,always saying "there's a lot of thing women can do that men can't!" and I'd argue with her.

I miss her and all the times people addressed her as 'Mrs Onyejiaka' or 'iyawo Patrick', and she would blush so hot that an Irish rose had nothing on her.she taught me to make the most out of life...and cherish those that mean the most to me, because one second they are here,the next they are gone.

(I still don't know whether to say happy birthday or rest on peace).
Patrick Onyejiaka.

hmmmm

SO touching.
Yorubas and babarism be like twins

.

...cha I,i already develop headache reading this,op take heart..it is well.