Left to Sink: How My Wicked Aunty Abandoned Me During the Odimodi-Ugulagha Crisis
Left to Sink: How My Wicked Aunty Abandoned Me During the Odimodi-Ogulagha Crisis
Story Ebi Stephen– Daughter of Two Communities (Odimodi & Ogulagha)
Compilation by Prince Agbedeyi O. D. & Seigha Dora Ayedi for Egbema Egberi Media International.
You know how some people say, “Family will always have your back”? Well, I’m here to tell you that sometimes, family will abandon you at the riverbank — with your white wrapper flapping in the wind and danger lurking behind you.
This is not fiction. This is not Nollywood. This is real life — my life — and it happened during the unforgettable Odimodi and Ogulagha crisis.
The Day Trouble Knocked Too Loud
I was just a teenage girl at the time, schooling in Odimodi. It was a normal day — until the air filled with gunshots.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
They weren’t drumming. They were coming. And because my father's house was practically the front gate of Odimodi, the attackers didn’t even need Google Maps to find us.
There was no time to escape through the door. But thank Teme-Owei — the Almighty — our house didn’t have any window protectors. I smashed the glass, climbed out like Jackie Chan in wrapper, and ran into a patch of nearby grassland.
The Miracle in the Grass
Wrapped in white, I laid down and prayed with everything I had.
“Teme-Owei, please hide me.”
And He did. A gunman passed by, looked in my direction… and walked on. Me, in bright white wrapper o! If that’s not a miracle, what is?
Escape Plan... or So I Thought
When the chaos calmed, people rushed to the riverbank to escape. That’s where I saw her — my Aunty. My father’s elder sister. The one with the big boat and bigger head tie.
I ran toward her shouting, “Aunty! Aunty! It’s me — Ebi!”
And guess what she said?
“Go back! My boat is full.”
Full of what? Her handbag and one suspicious sack of garri?
I cried, I begged. I tried to climb in. She picked up her paddle and chased me away like a stubborn goat. Then paddled off like the Queen of the Niger Delta.
The Real Heroes
Stranded and scared, I cried out one more time:
“Teme-Owei, if You save me, I swear I’ll join choir.”
And from the mist appeared two boys — Ebimienwei and Tarekeme — in a small canoe. No questions asked. No garri contribution. Just:
“Ebi, jump inside!”
And I did. I escaped.
Today, I Remember... and Laugh
That Aunty? She’s still alive. She calls me “my dear daughter” now like we’re best friends. I’ve forgiven her. Truly. But forget? Ha! Even if Teme-Owei gives me full memory wipe, this one will remain.
I’m grateful for life, for miracles, for good Samaritans — and for the kind of stories that can make people laugh and cry at the same time.
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