They Could Have Killed Me

When my son, Adeoluwa posted the above picture on Facebook some days ago, little did he know the flood of memories and emotions it brought to me.

A couple of days after this picture was taken, I was about stepping out of my home to leave for work and wondering why my wife kept me waiting.

On that fateful morning, she wanted to pay a visit to her parents with our 3-month-old baby boy. But I soon got tired of waiting and told her that I had to leave. She said fine but I should give her  just a few seconds before driving off so that she could package some breakfast for me. I asked her to please send it down
to me in the parking lot right inside the compound.

As I got downstairs, my kid brother, Kehinde had just washed the car. I got inside the car to start the engine while my brother walked toward the gate to open it. Unknown to him, three men were waiting outside the gate. As Kehinde pushed the gate open, the men rushed inside the quiet compound, all armed. Instantly,
at gun-point, one guy ordered Kehinde to lay prostrate on the ground without a word. Another guy stood in the middle of the street, directly opposite the house to ward off possible sympathisers. And the third guy, obviously the leader, casually but firmly walked toward me.

"Hey..." he barked at me as he touched my forehead with the barrel of the revolver in his hand..."Did you feel the coldness of the gun?"

I nodded.

"I just wanted you to know that this is not a toy gun." he stated very camly as if we were just having some friendly chat.

"I believe you." I answered in utter fear even as I stared at his very cold eyes. "Please...take the car..."

There were only two families in the entire compound of twin duplexes. And there were assorted cars including a Mercedes Benz parked in the compound. I thought
the guys were interested in the cars.

"What?" the man got angry at my suggestion."Who do you think we are...car thieves? What an insult!"

"Ah...I'm sorry." I pleaded. "So, what do you want...money?"

This other suggestion even made the other guys angrier as the one standing over my brother yelled at their leader to "shoot him and let's go!"

On hearing this command, I glared at the man as I pleaded for my life. But the man was not impressed with my plea. He ordered me to face the wall.

Somehow, something made me refuse to face the wall and I told him point-blank that I would not face the wall.

"Please tell me...who sent you..." I asked him. "May I know who wants me killed?"

This time, the two other men were terribly angry with their leader as they yelled at him to stop chatting with me.

"Shoot this guy and let us go!" they ordered.

Oblivious of the sad drama, my wife had sent the house maid to bring down my breakfast. On seeing the guy with a gun pointed to my head, the poor girl
stood temporarily transfixed to the spot on the staircase. The gun man now pointed the gun at her to shoot but I found myself standing between him and
the maid. With this action, the girl bolted upstairs, screaming that "someone wants to kill Deolu's daddy!"

The man now looked at me and said since I refused to face the wall, he would just go ahead to shoot. At that moment and within a micro-second, my mind
went into frenzy as a lot of pitiful faces came flying past...my wife, my baby boy, my brothers...everyone...all looking sad as if they were already mourning my
untimely death. That was how I knew how people felt under such a crazy circumstance.

Then, a click from the gun suddenly made my mind return to focus on the assassin. The gun had jammed.

Right before me, the guy checked the revolver, assured himself it was okay and pointed it at my head. He fired. But again, all that sounded was another click.

Now angry with himself, he unloaded the six rounds of ammonition, checked them and reloaded them into the gun chambers. As he did this, I simply stood
there helplessly waiting for my death. Quickly, he pointed it at my head and fired. But there was yet, another click sound.    

For a few seconds, the guy stared hard at me without a word. Then, he said "What kind of a person are you?"

When I said nothing except to keep staring at him, he finally said "You're not an ordinary person...are you?"

Suddenly, he barked at the other men, telling them they had to leave.

"What do you mean we have to leave...?" the guy standing over my brother querried.

But without an answer, the leader of the team jumped into my car and ordered the two other men to join him. That was how they left.

Fortunately they left at that moment. My other brother, Shola was running down the stairs in reaction to the maid's alarm. Up till today, I ask myself what if the men had shot me and were suddenly confronted by Shola's presence at that moment? Of course, they would have shot him too. And what would that do to
Olawole's family...the loss of two persons in one day?

Some hours later on that same day, my car was found somewhere in Ikeja. Nothing in the car was touched or stolen. Not even my wallet which was heavily loaded with cash was touched. I was going through the cash after starting the car shortly before the assassins rushed into the compound. 

There was a friend (he knows himself) and a cousin (he also knows himself) and maybe some other people (who I don't know yet) who may "sometimes" feel irritated each time I use the Facebook to thank, praise and glorify the Lord in appreciation of my life, my family and especially, my kids, now they can understand the reason. This story here is just one of the many situations where I could have lost my life. I know God has been preserving my life for some reasons best known to Him.