I struggled for breath, tried to shout, but my voice wouldn’t come out.

The car sped off in another direction.

For what felt like forever—almost an hour—we kept moving.

Then the bus stopped.

They dragged me out.

It was a deserted place—an uncompleted building, surrounded by bushes. Dark. Silent.

My heart sank.

God… is this how it ends?

They ordered me to hand over everything—my phone, my belongings. I complied immediately.

Then they told me to unlock my phone.

With trembling hands, I did.

The moment the screen came on, they saw my wallpaper—my wife and my daughter, Tiaraoluwa.

One of the men, a hefty figure with pierced ears and a hardened face, stared at it.

Then, without warning, he pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at my head.

“Lover boy,” he said, his voice cold, “between these two on your screen,who do you love most?”

My heart stopped.

What kind of question was that?

I couldn’t speak.

“Answer us now,” another one barked, “or we’ll scatter your body here.”

Tears streamed down my face.

With a heavy, trembling voice, I said, “I love both my wife and Tiara.”

The man with the hardened face and pierced ears let out a cold laugh—then landed two hot slaps across my cheeks.

“Nonsense. You think say we dey play?”

My vision blurred.

He cocked the gun slightly and shoved the phone back at me.

“Open your WhatsApp. Video call your wife—now.”

My hands shook as I held the phone.

“Listen well,” he continued, his voice sharp and deadly.

“You get five minutes to say your last message.”

He tapped the gun against my head.

“Your time starts now.”

My heart pounded as I placed the call.

It rang once. No response.

I called again. Nothing.

Three minutes left.

My breath grew shallow.

Then, I dialed the third time.

This time, I heard Tiaraoluwa’s voice in the background, calling her mum’s attention from the kitchen—

“Mummy! Daddy is calling!”

Her mum responded, asking her to go to the sitting room and speak with me, that she would call me back later.

And then, the screen connected.

“Jesus… Tiara…”

My heart dropped.

“Take the phone to mummy, please.”

But she didn’t move.

Instead, she looked straight into the screen—her eyes steady, her voice calm.

“Daddy… somebody is pointing a gun at you.”

My breath caught.

And then she began—

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked, even my enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh they stumbled and fell…”

Her voice didn’t shake.

Each word came out clear, bold, filled with a confidence that didn’t belong to a child.

I froze.

The men froze.

Before she could continue, the screen went off. 

Silence. 

My head dropped. 

The man with the hardened face struck me again and snatched the phone from my hands.

He stared at me hard. 

“So… na ogbanje pikin you born?” he muttered.

The others looked at each other.

Something in that moment unsettled them.

Silence fell again—but this time, it wasn’t the silence of control, it was the silence of confusion.

Then one of them spoke, almost dismissively, but with a trace of unease in his voice—

“Oga… come and be going. Greet your little witch for us.”

I stood up—still shaking, trying to process what had just happened. 

That was how they drove me  back to the bus stop, and handed all my belongings back to me. 

******

Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, That thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger. Psalm 8:2 KJV 

Your strength lies in God's word. Wield it, and watch the enemy crumble before you. 

Dear believer, you're more powerful than you think. 

#Truthinfiction

GRW.