A journalist practicing in Anambra State, Mr Izunna Okafor would have been long forgotten, had he not narrowly escaped death at gunpoint in Awka, the state capital, where three ferocious armed bandits attacked him on his way home last week.
Mr Okafor was said to have attended an event somewhere in Awka on that fateful night and was returning home on his new motorcycle, when suddenly a tricycle double-crossed him near Queen Suite and three armed men jumped out of it pointing fully loaded guns at him, demanding his bike.
According to Okafor, he had tried to resist them and escape with his bike but luck was against him as the armed robbers overpowered him and pummeled him beyond recognition as one of the gang absconded with his motorcycle while others fled with the Keke.
Okafor was then helpless with serious injuries all over his body as the palpitations were severe, but shortly after the robbery incident, sympathizers came to help him get back on his feet as they tried to find out what happened to him.
“It was indeed a terrible night for me because I had the impression that nightlife had returned to Awka.
“My friends and I had finished a gathering we had somewhere in Awka, the capital city of Anambra State, which though didn’t start early enough. We broke the day there, as the gathering officially ended at about 2 am.
“Being an Awka-based practicing journalist, I had also attended many other functions, meetings, and media-related assignments in the past, especially during emergencies and political periods, from where I safely returned home late in the night, even at such odd hours as 2am, 3am and so on, without anybody or group interfering with my movement.
“So, as usual, after our gathering, I saddled on my somewhat new ride and mounted the road, after my friends and colleagues had taken their own direction. I was the only one among us going to my side.
“And, as is usually the case, some streets were still on, especially the ever-busy Abakaliki Street (Club Road), as at that 2:09 am when I took off and was cruising to my residence.
“It, however, became unusual, as I diverted towards the direction of my destination, Off the Abakaliki Street before the Queen Suite Hotel, as a yellow-coloured tricycle (Keke) double-crossed me, with three ferocious and cantankerous men onboard.
“Oga, come down,” one of the boys said, brandishing a gun in his hand.
“As I was trying to resist, question, and understand what was happening, the other one among the two persons who alighted from the tricycle drew closer and leveraged the tool of hot slap to order me not to waste their time.
“As the slap was still echoing some bee sounds in my ear, the third person who remained inside the tricycle joined his voice to warn me not to delay them further; even as few cars that approached the spot at that moment all reversed upon seeing the tricycle standing at the center of the road, with armed men standing by.
“With courage and instigation that came from nowhere, as this was going on, I immediately geared up my motorcycle in a bid to flee, while one of them immediately cocked his gun, and the other pushed me down on motion, together with the motorcycle. And we crashed.
“As I was struggling to get up, one of them grabbed up the motorcycle, saddled on it, and zoomed off in the company of the Keke, in which the other two had already mounted; and they sped off.
“Immediately after the scene cleared, some people rushed to assist me, as they comforted me and stopped a tricycle for me, which I boarded in the company of some people, and was ridden home, after I declined to go to the hospital that night.
“As I got home, and even while still inside the Keke, I started making calls, beginning with informing the friends I had just finished staying with before the incident, and then calling the Commissioner of Police, CP Nnaghe Obono Itam; the State Police Public Relations Officer, SP Ikenga Tochukwu, and some other security personnel I could reach on phone then, notifying them of what happened.
“I also requested their assistance in facilitating the apprehension of the hoodlums and recovering my stolen motorcycle — a ride that had been of great help to me in meeting up with my various journalistic engagements, both timeously and economically.
“In the morning, I decided to trek down the axis where I had been attacked the previous night, though still making some phone calls and raising alarms.
“As I drew much closer, lo and behold, it was my motorcycle; abandoned, without anyone in sight as the parker.
“The carburetor of my motorcycle had developed a fault a few weeks ago, such that it usually overfloats most times when I park it, especially when there is enough fuel in it. This made me start locking up the fuel tap each time I park the bike and unlock it when I’m about to go.
“Now, this mechanical fault has believably become my saving grace this time; little wonder why I had been reluctant to go fix it since about two weeks ago it started.
“Now, before taking off from the venue of our gathering that night, I forgot to unlock the fuel tap as I usually do; and so, the only fuel inside the carburetor was what sustained my ride to the point where the hoodlums robbed me. Unknown to me and them, the fuel in the carburetor was almost finished, even though there was still enough fuel in the fuel tank.
“So, men and brethren, it was this remaining fuel in the carburetor that eventually finished up along the road when the criminals were fleeing with the bike, and then, the motorcycle locked up without any sign.
“Because they obviously could not begin to look for the fault (being a stolen bike), for the fear of being apprehended in the process; they disappointedly dumped and abandoned it there along the road, which was where I saw it the following morning, to the glory of God.
“With that accomplished, the next concern was seeking urgent medical attention, because the various degrees of injuries I sustained on different parts of my body were still very acerbic, which include part of my cheek, part of my eyes, and limbs.
“Consequently, therefore, I mounted my motorcycle and hurried off to the hospital to take care of myself. And since then, I have been on medication to date, with many significant differences showing already in my body.
“So, men and brethren, this is my story!
“Join me to thank God, especially for sparing my life this time again, as many have died through this kind of incident and still lost the dragged item,” Izuu, as he is fondly called narrated.
