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:::Lagos, Nigeria:::

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   I enjoy walking along the streets of Lagos whether under the light of the sun or the moon, the effect is always the same. Spreading my arms and keeping my eyes shut, I allow my body enjoy the luxury of the moment as I continue my walk away from the buzzing club house.

The wind has always had a way of singing to me. Of calming me and I embrace it, each time. It is the only thing I look up to after a long night of clubbing with my friend, Sandra. The loud music of the club, eases my pain but not long enough. The melody of the wind instead, heals me for much longer.

"Babe, we should order a ride home. And seriously, how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?" Sandra throws her arms in the air and mimics my actions. "It makes you look crazy!" She cries out, but I only smile at her.

"Throwing me your billion naira smile, is not going to save you oh! How can you walk with your eyes closed na?" She makes a quick hissing sound with her lips and extracts her phone from her clutch,"your place or mine?" She asks, as she types continuously on her Samsung making low clicking noises.

"Your choice. . . as long as we keep walking," I say, now walking backwards so we can see, eye to eye.

Taking her eyes off the phone, "no, we are not trekking home tonight. It's too dangerous," she says looking straight into my eyes.

"Fine then. When the rider gets here, you'll have to leave without me." Flashing her another one of my smiles, I continue my walk. She can't understand what it feels like for me. No one can.

"Okay na. When the rider comes, we'll see who get power pass," she says, not taking her eyes off the phone this time.

Ignoring her, I allow my body return its focus to the winds. The melody cures me, gently relieving me of my pain. A pain I've known all my life.

With my eyes closed, I feel the melody of the winds move deep within my body. Easing my suffering inch by inch. The winds take me to a place where I feel connected to something. Something that can also feel my pain and share it.

Sandra can never understand this. Even if I take the liberty to explain it to her. She just won't get it.

I understand that taking such long walks at this time of the night can be dangerous. But if she lived with this pain, she'll face a thousand dangers, rather than miss the chance of living without it. Even if it's just for a couple of minutes.

Humming to a tune, I have composed on my own, following the rhythm of the winds, I walk further away from Sandra. I hear her calling out to me, but her voice seems too far off. Not because of the distance between us but because of my connection to the winds.

A bright light flashes before my eyes and my body is thrown in the air, with such force that I immediately loose my connection with the winds and that's when I hear her.

"Watch out!" Sandra screams.

But it's too late. As at the time I register her cries, I am already in the air, bracing for impact.

The impact is almost like a glass bottle shattering but only this time, instead of a bottle, it's my body that is shattering on the ground. Blood oozes out of my body and within seconds, I am laying in a pool of my own blood. There is a maddening throb in the back of head, but that is the least of my worries. My consciousness at this point in time, means the world to me and it was slipping away.

The danfo that hit me, reverses and zooms off. Leaving me and Sandra to our fate, or my fate, because it is me, who is doomed, not Sandra.

The pain is unimaginable.

Not the pain of dying.

The pain of losing.

Sandra drops in front of me on her knees, there were tears all over her pretty face and I try to move my hands to comfort her, but it feels detached from my body.

"No no no no no," Sandra chants beside me as she wipes blood away from my face. "Help!" She shouts, throwing her head around us in search of it.

I try to tell her to stop crying, because her cries were weakening my hold on my consciousness. But my mouth refuse to move.

Please stop crying Sandra, please. . .

"Sewa, please look at me. Sewa!" she cries, as my eyes starts getting too heavy. There were snorts dropping from her nostrils but she didn't even try stopping them as they mix with the tears from her eyes and land on my blood soaked clothes.

Sandra has always been a very strong girl, seeing her cry like this, breaks my already broken heart. Another pain I have to live with.

I don't want to die.

Not because I'll stay dead. No, I know that much about myself.
Dying doesn't kill me.

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