Stormy Heart

Chapter one

chapter one

The eagerly awaited nationwide ASUU strike had, at last, come to an end. It had been a harrowing experience for many, with some federal and state universities barely halfway through their second-semester exams when the strike hit. However, Munachi was among the fortunate few for whom the strike was just a distant storm cloud. Her school, FUTO, had managed to conclude its semester exams before the turmoil began.

As she made her way back to school, Munachi couldn't contain her elation. The holiday had been so dull and drawn-out that she had incorporated prayers for the absence of ASUU strikes into her daily routine.

The bus ride from Wetherel by Emmanuel College to Ihiagwa was surprisingly smooth, devoid of the usual traffic snarls. She disembarked at the bustling market square and hailed a motorbike taxi. After some spirited haggling, the bike rider reluctantly agreed to ferry her and her luggage to her destination for a mere two hundred naira.

The day was slowly drifting into night, with a darkened sky embellished by the radiant glow of the moon. Munachi clutched a small box tightly to her chest, guarding it as if it were a priceless treasure. Inside the box lay her monthly allowance, something she held dear. The chill of the harmattan breeze whipped across her face, causing her to shiver. She regretted not wearing a thicker sweater; the weather was bitingly cold, and riding on the bike only intensified the sensation.

Straining her eyes, she tried to make sense of her surroundings, cursing herself for leaving her glasses at home. This place seemed unfamiliar, and a sense of unease began to settle in her chest.

"Oga, where are we going?" she inquired, tapping the bike rider on his shoulder.

The man responded with a nonchalant tone, "Aah! You too dey fear; na shortcut."

Reluctantly, Munachi nodded and continued to peer around, but her discomfort only deepened. Her instincts screamed at her, urging her to demand that the bike rider stop, but she dismissed the warnings. Then, suddenly, they veered into a desolate, overgrown area. There were no signs of civilization—no shops or houses, just dense, forbidding foliage. The bike rider came to an abrupt halt, and Munachi's heart raced.

"What's happening?!" she blurted out.

The bike rider dismounted, and she followed suit, her anxiety escalating. "I don't know, it seems like the bike has broken down," he said.

Panic set in. Munachi berated herself for not heeding her instincts earlier. The realization hit her like a freight train—she might be in grave danger. She had heard unsettling tales at school about bike riders collaborating with local thugs to rob or harm students, and now she found herself potentially falling victim to such a sinister plot.

Munachi desperately reached for her Nokia torchlight phone to call for help, an eerie feeling crept up her spine. Just as she was about to dial a number, the tranquil evening was shattered by the sudden emergence of three menacing figures from the surrounding undergrowth. Two of them brandished gleaming daggers, while the third clutched a menacing gun.

Fear gripped her, causing her to take a hesitant step backward, contemplating another retreat. The one holding the gun, with a voice that sounded like a raspy, worn-out agbero and an overpowering odor of cheap Igboh cigarettes, barked out a chilling command.

"No even think am," he growled, his words sending shivers down her spine.

Despite the terror coursing through her veins, Munachi stood her ground, unable to tear her eyes away from the unfolding nightmare. One of the men with a dagger began rummaging through her luggage, greedily searching for valuables. The other leered at her with sinister intentions, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Disgust welled up within her, and her heart raced as she prayed fervently for a savior, someone to rescue her from this horrifying ordeal. The thought of being violated was unbearable.