It was after 10pm in Wuse 2. The estate gate man had already locked up, and I was the only one still walking under those yellow streetlights with my earphones in.
I heard the footsteps behind me but I didnβt turn. Abuja nights can be quiet like that, so I just quickened my steps. He caught up before I reached my compound. Tall guy, face half-covered with a handkerchief. He grabbed my arm and said, βNo shout. Just give me the phone and the bag.β
I gave him. My hands were shaking. Then he said, βFollow me inside that empty building there. I want something else.β
Something in his voice made my stomach turn. I had a small kitchen knife in my bag from the suya I bought earlier. When he dragged me towards the dark entrance, I pulled it out and stabbed him once in the side. He screamed and fell. I ran and never looked back.
The next morning the news said a man was found dead near that uncompleted building. They said he was a known area boy. Nobody ever came to ask me anything.
Till today, whenever I pass that street, my heart still beats like Iβm still running.
**This is purely fiction.**
My landlord introduced a rule that tenants who hadn't paid rent would lose access to the building's washing machine until they cleared their arrears. One tenant hadn't paid rent for six weeks, so the caretaker blocked him from using it. When he finally paid...