It was cold calm night in my village.
We had travelled to my community for a burial.
My village is a small town with few houses scattered around the village.
Meanwhile before now we had heard of news of how some criminal element terrorised the community, robbing houses, stealing from people in broad day light, inflicting pains on the inhabitants.
They somehow had overpowered the community security team. Although effort were made to contact the police to salvage the situation, it was however not effective and efficient as expected.
Many had fled from the community to seek safety somewhere else.
Our decision to attend the burial in the community was a risky one but we needed to take it due to the exigency of the program.
We arrived the community about 7pm in the evening, a day preceding the burial. We settled, ate and went to bed early. About 9pm we heard gun shots and screams. Our hearts skipped, the criminals began their usual operation. There's was no escape route, efforts to reach out to the security personnel were in vain. We were all left to our faith. It was a longest night ever experienced. I couldn't wait for the day to break.
By God's mercy we were protected.
