Julianna ran then, she ran like her life depends on it. Her daughter's life depends on it because the faster she gets there, the earlier she's able to save her daughter.
She kept murmuring words of prayers to God as she was running...
"Father Lord, help me, she's the only family I've got left. Please protect her for me. It would kill me if I lose her. Protect her for me in Jesus name..."
Thank God she's almost at the exit of the dirt road because she was now out of breath, just as she slows down to quick steps, she heard a noise from behind her.
Her heart nearly jumped out from her mouth with fright when she looked back and saw mobs of youths armed with clubs, machettes, and jerry cans of petrol roamed the streets, attacking suspected Christians, burning their homes and property, and chanting "death to the infidels".
"Oh, God!" She said with exhaustion as she picked up her pace and started running again till she got to the major road described by her colleague. Getting to her daughter should be easy from here since she was familiar with the area.
Now panting heavily, She has been running hard for more than ten minutes now and for someone who did not use to exercising, it was hard and she was already getting tired.
She slowed down into quick steps again, everywhere was in a state of unrest and disarray. Burning cars, tires, and whatnot, billowing with black smoke were all over the road. People's shops were being looted and their owners were nowhere to be found.
A shop owner that was trying to lock up his shop to protect his business was dragged out on the road screaming and mercilessly being beaten till he fell unconscious.
Nobody stopped the assault on the man, they were either watching helplessly, running for their lives, or in a hurry to get home to theirr family like Julianna.
The situation was horrific. Julianna counted more than ten bodies, lying half dead or dead on the streets. Some burnt and others clubbed or stabbed. She started running again and cross to the other side of the road into another street that leads to Badariya.
Walking briskly, she started thinking about her baby girl, 'Abidemi, Abimbola, Abike' so named by her husband, herself, and mother in law and her mind automatically resumed praying to God for her safety till she got to Badariya.
Badariya-Church was exactly what her mind has been praying against. It was scary when she saw the horrific scene of what was left of the place that has been her home for the past three years.
Being an area where almost seventy percent of the occupants were predominantly either Christians or Igbo and Yoruba origin. she was suspecting it was going to be bad, but she wasn't expecting the attack to be this awful.
All the Christian-dominated blocks of flat and privately owned buildings were on fire, including the block of flats that used to be her home. Seeing this she started running again down the street to her daughter's creche.
Few blocks to the creche, she stopped, she didn't need to go further for her to realize that the church too has been set ablaze.
God please, no! She cried as her face contorted in pain. Her two hands covering her mouth but couldn't stop the ugly screech coming out. "Abimbola!!!" she screamed her daughter's name.
'No! My daughter is not in there. I refused to accept that my baby is in that fire. Somebody must have saved her...' She kept muttering to herself crazily right in the middle of the road. Suddenly somebody pulled her by her arm with force, nearly toppling her over.
The cold hand of fear gripped her heart and sweat trickled down her back 'now it's finished' she thought as she was dragged and pushed into an uncompleted building on the street by guys covering half of their faces with pieces of clothes and handkerchiefs.
She came face to face with a group of men and teenage boys, ranging from twenty-five to fourteen years old. When they removed their masks, she recognized four of them as boys that lived in the area, she was friends with some of their parents, she even tutored two of them to get an extra income back when she was searching for employment.
One of them was Abubakar, called Abu by everybody in the neighborhood. He was one of the twins she had tutored when they were preparing for the West African Examination.
'...but Abu is such a good boy from a good home, what is happening?' She thought
"Teacher follows me", he said in English while pulling her along with him.
Thinking the worst, 'Have they been brainwashed? why are they dragging me into an uncompleted building? Being raped and murdered by a group of teenage boys...oh no! God have mercy!'