On A Lonely Road

It happened so fast the night I got robbed.

Just like every other day, the road looked calm.

I had worked late that night, and my bus had broken down two stops before my street. It was taking time for me to catch another bus. It felt like all the bus drivers had gone home. I checked my phone, and it was 9:47 p.m. I had spent almost thirty more minutes there and the streets were getting deserted the most. I looked far into the street, it wasn’t too dark. Just that half-light Lagos manages sometimes, where a few bulbs from the street light work and the other few don’t.

If I had known, I should have waited. However, the tiredness settling within me, coupled with my house being fifteen minutes away, led me to make a poor decision. Besides, I had walked it before.

So I summoned up courage and started walking.

A few feet into my journey, I noticed him. A young man, maybe my age or older. He had the strides of a warrior. He was a few steps ahead of me. He glanced back at me first, then again. Before slowing down.

I felt goosebumps grow on me, but I didn't slow down. I didn't want to be seen as scared. Then he stopped.

“Aunty, sorry,” he said, turning to face me. “That front side is not too safe this time. Better make we waka together. (It isn't safe on this street, it's better we walk together.)” He pointed ahead like he knew the road personally.

I looked at him, confused. Why was he willing to help a stranger he had just met on the street? I was scared. It showed on my face, I was sure. But he had this calm, gentle, and comforting look. The kind of face you don’t argue with.

I hesitated for a second before nodding. It was weird to me that someone was willing to walk with me just for me to be safe. At one point, I thought he was just using such tactics to get my number. But in that moment, with how lonely the road was and how scared I was, I just needed to trust someone I did not know.

We walked side by side, not too close, not too far, exchanging small talk like him asking where I was going and nodding like he understood when I pointed forward.

“You know Lagos isn't safe at night. Especially for a lady like you.,” he said with a small laugh.

I almost smiled. He sounded genuine.

Suddenly, after a few minutes of walking together, he surprisingly stopped.

"Anything the matter?" I asked with concern and before I could understand what was going on. I saw a guy step out from a narrow gap between two buildings nearby. I didn't even notice at first. Everything was happening just too fast. Then the second man pressed something hard into my side with a command.

“Don’t shout.” His voice was low but firm.

Immediately, they grabbed my bags and they moved through my bag as they had practiced. Before me, I saw them pocket my phone, my purse, and every tangible thing inside.

I stood still for a moment. I tried to shout for help but no sound came out. And within seconds of robbing me of everything I had, they walked away on the same route the second man had appeared from, like men who had just finished buying something.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. The street felt wider than before. Emptier. Scarier.

My legs were shaking, not from pain, the attackers didn't touch me but it was pain from something else. Something deeper.

I had been so foolish to trust a stranger.

I felt my legs move, and I started walking again, almost running this time, because I didn’t know what else to do. I was blank at this point.

Just a few steps ahead, I saw a lady walk out of an open gate. She called out to me.

“Aunty, are you okay? I saw what happened?”
I didn't answer; instead, I tried getting away from her. I was done trusting a stranger.

"I won't hurt you. I'm just trying to help. Do you need to call someone or maybe a transport fare? I saw when they took your bag and everything inside."

At that point, I couldn't hold myself anymore. I let my tears drop. I was scared, confused, and tired.

“Come,” she said gently, already stepping out of the gate.

I stopped, turned, and followed her to a low step just beside her gate. She sat me down. Still, I was playing it safe.

She gave me her phone and asked. “Do you want to call anyone to come pick you up? You're shaking. Is your house still far away? I can call you a ride.”

I nodded. "I'll call someone". I wasn't sure if I would be able to trust someone again that night. Not to mention being in an enclosed moving box with a guy. After what I just experienced from two guys. I might be sitting with a stranger at that moment but that was because she was a lady.

I took her phone with shaky hands and called Mama Chinedu.

She was shocked to hear what happened and the fact that I wasn't home up to that time. She didn't hesitate to drive over to my location.

“She’s coming,” I said when I ended the call.

The woman nodded and sat beside me.

She didn’t ask many questions. Didn’t start telling stories. She only offered me water. And just stayed there, close enough to remind me I wasn’t alone.

Mama Chinedu arrived about seven minutes later, I stood up slowly and thanked the kind lady

"You're welcome. Please avoid walking the streets alone at night. This is Lagos" She paused, then shook her head with a small smile. “Although, not everybody here is bad.”

I held onto that as Mama Chinedu drove us home. I was grateful to be safe even though they took my phone, money, bag, and ability to trust a guy at first meet again. But most were things I could replace with time. I was grateful they didn't take my life.

I looked out the window as we drove, the same kind of streets passing by, quiet and uneven. Then my thoughts went back to the woman who offered me help. I thanked God for her.

Also reminding myself that even though there were people who could take from you without blinking, there were others, too, who could give, just as quietly, without thinking.

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