And then, the unexpected happened.
My phone battery blinked weakly—five percent.
Panic crept in, slow and suffocating. I turned to Elvis and asked how far we were from Abuja. He glanced ahead casually and replied that we were almost there.
Relief washed over me briefly, but it didn't last.
I needed to know exactly where I would alight once we arrived. I needed to speak to my aunt. So, with trembling urgency, I dialed her number.
The call connected.
She picked up.
And just as her voice came through the speaker, my phone shut down.
Gone.
As though it had never existed.
That, unfortunately, was the peculiar habit of my iPhone XR—it overheated dramatically and powered off without warning, as though it had reached the limit of its endurance. But at that moment, its betrayal felt personal.
Now, I had no phone.
No directions.
No certainty about where I was meant to stop in a city as vast as Abuja.
For a fleeting second, I wondered if my village people had convened an emergency meeting against me. Perhaps this was punishment for disobedience—for leaving without my mother's full consent, for executing my carefully calculated escape before she returned from her trip.
Today had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events, each more dramatic than the last.
I turned again to the man seated beside me and asked for the time.
"Ten minutes to eight," he replied.
My heart skipped.
It was almost 8 p.m.
The realization slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"Oh my God."
A part of me—small but loud—imagined my mother pacing the house, panic tightening her chest, convinced her only child had been kidnapped or swallowed by the road. Guilt gnawed at me, sharp and persistent.
I must have looked as distressed as I felt, because Elvis tilted his head slightly and studied my face.
"What's going on?" he asked gently. "Why do you look like that?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out immediately.
Because how do you explain to a stranger that you are fourteen years old, alone, phone-less, almost in Abuja, and suddenly unsure of where your journey is meant to end?