The last witness

My name is David Okoro.

If you're reading this, then one of two things has happened.

Either I survived long enough to tell my story...Or somebody found these pages after I was gone.

I wish I could tell you I was a hero.That I knew how to fight.That I stood my ground when death came looking for me.

The truth?

I was just a twenty-two-year-old mechanic trying to survive in Lagos.I fixed motorcycles.I argued with customers who never wanted to pay.

I sent money to my mother whenever I could.And every night before I slept, I wondered if my father would have been proud of the man I was becoming.

Then one ordinary Saturday...Everything changed.

Looking back now...I should have noticed the signs.

The silence.The stares.

The feeling that somebody already knew my name before I even heard theirs.

But when you're living an ordinary life, danger always looks like something that happens to someone else.

That morning, Balogun Market was exactly the way I loved it.

Noisy.Chaotic.Alive.

"Fresh fish! Fresh fish!"

"Fine tomatoes! Come buy!"

"Bros, original AirPods! No be fake!"

Everybody was shouting over everybody else.The smell of roasted corn mixed with perfume, petrol, and fried plantain.

If Lagos had a heartbeat...It was Balogun Market.

I smiled as I squeezed through the crowd.

"Mama Chinyere!" I shouted.

The old woman selling fruits looked up.

"Ehn, David! ..You don finally remember say I still dey alive?"

I laughed.

"Na work dey worry me."

She clicked her tongue.

"Work no suppose make person forget people wey love am."

"I know."

"So where my orange money?"

I scratched my head dramatically.

"Ah, Mama... customer never pay me."

She burst into laughter.

"See this boy!"

"You go always get excuse."

I picked two oranges from her basket.

"Put am for my debt."

She slapped my hand playfully.

"Thief!"

"You think say because I know your mama, you fit chop my market free?"

We both laughed.

That was Lagos.

Even when life was hard...People still found reasons to smile.

If only I'd known...That would be the last normal conversation I'd have for a very long time.

My phone vibrated.It was my mother.

(Mama ❤️)

I smiled before answering.

"My pikin."..Her voice alone always made me feel like everything would be okay.

"Good morning, Mama."

"You don chop?"

"Not yet."

"Hmm."

"I know you.You go waka from morning reach night without food."

I laughed.

"Mama, I dey okay."

"You no dey okay.Buy the medicine before tomorrow..I no wan hear story."

"I promise."

"And pray before you sleep."

"I promise."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mama."

The call ended...For a second...I just stood there smiling at my phone.

Some people chase millions.Some chase fame.

Me?

I just wanted enough money to take care of my mother.That was all.

Then...Something felt wrong.

At first, I couldn't explain it.It wasn't something I saw.It was something I didn't hear.

The market...Had become quiet.Not completely.Just enough for me to notice.

One trader stopped shouting.Another slowly packed his goods.

A little girl stopped crying and stared toward the main road.

I frowned.

"Wetin dey happen?"

Nobody answered.Then I heard it.

Three engines.Deep.Powerful.Coming fast.

The crowd began moving away from the road.Not running.

Just...Making space.

Three black SUVs drove into the market without slowing down.

People jumped aside.One woman almost dropped her baby.The vehicles stopped together.

Eight men stepped out.

Black shirts.Black trousers.Dark sunglasses.No smiles.

One of them unfolded a photograph.He compared it with the faces in the market.

Something inside me tightened.I don't know why.Maybe instinct..Maybe fear.Maybe God.

I turned around.I wanted to leave quietly.Then I heard it.

"Oga!"

One of the men pointed directly at me.

"Na him!"

Everything stopped.Even my breathing.

Another thug shouted,

"No make that boy escape!"

I remember thinking...They must have mistaken me for somebody else.

I had never seen those men before in my life.Then one of them pulled out a pistol.The gun caught the sunlight.

My heart almost stopped.One shot.

The bullet smashed into a wooden stall beside me.People screamed.

"Jesus!"

"Run!"

"Gun!"

Without thinking...I ran...Not because I was brave.Because every part of my body was screaming the same thing.

Run... or die.

"Bros! Hold am!"

"He no fit far!"

I pushed through the crowd.People cursed at me.One man nearly punched me for knocking over his wheelbarrow.

I didn't stop.

Another gunshot echoed behind me.The bullet whistled past my ear.

For the first time in my life...I realized someone truly wanted me dead.

And I had absolutely no idea why.