Ten years after that incident, Sarah sat at the far end of lecture theater in the pepartment of economics at the University of Benin, looking pale and forlorn. She placed her elbows on the desk with both hands on her cheeks as a million unpleasant thoughts preyed savagely on her mind. The new semester hadn't been a barrel of laughs so far, and she was fast becoming disillusioned with school. She was becoming sick and tired of Uniben and everything in it. Nothing interested her anymore, not even her economics textbooks that once fuelled and fed her passion and zest for knowledge. She had left the company of her friends stealthily after a practical class to be alone here. She needed time to restore her sense of proportion which was already fraying around the edges.
Sarah had cried all through the night only to wake up the next morning to find out that the previous semester's results had been released and that she had flunked two courses. She couldn't believe it. And it was even more shocking to realise that she didn't do so well in the other courses as well. Her GPA had dropped from a promising 4.41 to a pathetic 3.28. She felt the world caving in on her as hot, salty tears streaked down her cheeks. She thought of her mother who was in Lagos, paralyzed from the waist down, living on welfare from the foundation, placing all her hopes on her for the future. And this made her cry even harder. But she was determined to rebuild her life, and that was why she had come here alone. She looked around the class; no more than 4 students were around. It was already 7:30 p.m. and most of the students had retired to their respective hostels. Quickly, she brought out a notepad from her handbag and started writing down her plans and goals for the new semester. What had happened the previous semester had happened; she couldn't change. She knew she had to do well in her academics in order to create the future she wanted for herself and her mother. She was so immersed in deep, reflective thoughts that she lost track of time. She drew up a comprehensive and thorough strategy to ace all her papers that semester. She had few illusions about the consequences if she were to fail again.
By the time she was done it was already 8:45 p.m. She was about to say a prayer when an eerie sound from a corner of the class made her spring to her feet. She walked briskly out of the class and made her way to Ekosodin, the off-Campus town she lived.
Little did she know what was in the offing.
***
She was just a few metres away from her hostel in Ekosodin when she heard the unmistakable sound of an AK47 assault rifle. The sound appeared to emanate from her own hostel and was greeted with a shocked babble of voices. The second blast came, and this time it sounded so close, just as if the gunman was right in front of her. All hell broke loose and students in the street shrieked and ululated. They ran in different directions, bowling one another over. Shop owners slammed the doors of their shops in a frenzied rush and hotfooted it to safety. Some left their shops open and bolted away like beaten dogs. Sarah saw her hostel gate flung open with brute force, disgorging panic-stricken students who ran in various directions, screaming and crying and falling. There was no doubt that the killer was right in her hostel.
With an amazing presence of mind she made a beeline for a dark corner in the street and fell flat on her face. She lay there as one dead, but out of the corner of her eyes she could still see her hostel gate wide open. In less than a minute, the street became deserted and quiet as a cemetery. Occupants of the other hostels in the street had enough sense to shut their gates, doors and windows when they heard the first blast. It was as if they had anticipated the whole thing. A few curious students perched behind their windows, which were slightly opened, and craned their necks to get a good view of what was happening. Oh God, she was the only one in the street. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought it would burst any minute. She was horror-struck. She shivered there with fright, unsure what to do next. She was silently praying that the killer would not see her if he came outside when suddenly three armed men emerged from the gate and started shooting indiscriminately. Who had they killed inside? Jonathan? Omoregie? Abigail? She was in tears now. She tried to control herself but her shivering became even worse. Her teeth were chattering and she looked like someone with an epileptic seizure.
The hoodlums kept shooting and shouting madly in Bini language. Then, mercifully, the lights in the streets went out and at the drop of a hat Sarah sprang to her feet and ran for dear life. She didn't know where she was running, but anywhere was safer than Ohonba street. As she ran, she spotted a hostel which appeared to be a blot on the landscape. She sprinted towards it and banged heavily on the gate. The shooting had increased and it was getting nearer and nearer to where she was. A clash between cult groups no doubt, she thought. Innocent students met and unfortunately end in periods like this. She exclaimed and banged on the gate again even more fiercely.
"Somebody please help me! Please open the gate!"
No one came out and the door to the passageway had been locked. She jumped up like a gymnast and hit her body against the door as she cried for help.
"Don't shout!" admonished a girl who occupied the first room. "Don't attract them here. I'm coming with the key."
No sooner had the girl completed her statement than Sarah heard another blast followed by a loud agonized cry. Without thinking she took to her heels. She ran continuously for about seven minutes and then stopped to catch her breath when she was sure she was out of harm's way. Her pace was down to an exhausted plod in a place she couldn't recognise in the darkness. There were bushes all around and no one in sight. She felt both relief and a nagging premonition at the same time as she surveyed the surroundings. There were no buildings around; no hostel, no living soul. Exhausted, she sat on a slab and contemplated her next move. She felt so sick and vulnerable; it all seemed like a nightmare. Slowly she closed her eyes and prayed for morning light.
****
Somewhere else in the heart of Ekosodin, a boy awoke and stood up in the dead of night. He looked around his room with a bemused expression, as if he was in a strange place, his eyes bloodshot and evil-looking. His eyes bulged menacingly, shining as though lit from within by an incandescent passion. Suddenly he dived like a bull that had gone berserk and bashed his own head against the wall. The impact caused the walls and the windows to vibrate and the boy crumpled up in pain, twisting this way and that like a snake. He seemed to be fighting something— something dark and mysterious— that was inside him, something that seemed determined to kill him that night. The boy got up and attacked the wall with his head again, this time with much greater force. Blood streaked down his forehead and snaked into his eyes. He scurried to the kitchen in a frantic search for a knife, but then he froze halfway across the small kitchen like a man who just discovered his wallet was missing. He retreated slowly into his room and took his pyjamas and boxer shorts off. Then he looked down and studied his tumescence for a while, then opened the door and dashed outside. He jumped over the fence of the compound and ran like a madman down the street, filled with otherworldly sexual passion, and stark mother-naked.