
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
Enjoy this new short story series
Chapter 4
Blood
Adio was oblivious to the blaring sirens and flashing lights of the two ambulances that sped past him in the opposite direction. He was focused on reaching the pick-up point for his next rider promptly. His schedule had been slightly delayed by the stop at the vulcanizer’s to inflate two of his tubeless tires.
He suspected that his tires had picked up a nail or screw after driving through a construction site with houses in various stages of completion, where he had dropped off his last rider. For once, he was thankful for the company, even if it was a chatty one. Silence was an unwelcomed companion for many drivers.
As he arrived the pick-up location, he discovered it was an estate of three high-rise buildings with multiple apartments and a vast parking lot. He soon found a vacant spot and waited for his rider.
Sitting alone, Adio admired the architectural marvel that allowed such concrete giants to stand for decades.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Don remarked.
A sudden knock on the rear car door jolted Adio from his reverie, and he quickly unlocked the door to let the rider in.
However, this rider was not alone; he had a companion, a young man in his mid-twenties with eyes swollen over and bloody spit drooling from his slack jaws.
“He’s a bloody mess, Adio. He can’t be seeing a thing out of that left eye and he won’t for a while yet.” Don cried.
Adio’s eyes widened in utter shock as he looked at the two youngsters that dragged themselves into his backseat. The same backseat he had thoroughly vacuumed after the last incident with the dreadlocked drunk that left his car stinking for days.
“No way!” He protested.
The other passenger didn’t only have a slack jaw, but his nose was so badly smashed in that he’d be lucky to remember his own name. He had his arms wrapped around his guts like he was holding them in and to be honest he was so badly beat he could as well be.
“Oh my God! What is this? Who are you?” He panicked.

His passenger’s response was the feel of the cold barrel of a locally made pistol stuffed up his nostrils. It was close enough to sniff the residue of gunpowder.
“They must be armed robbers.” In one shattered moment Adio’s heart and breathing stopped all at once.
“They must have fired bullets from this gun, Adio.”
Adio suddenly felt a warm wetness around his crotch that spread rapidly around his seat until he was sure he had lost continence shamelessly.
“Drive!” The first word from his rider was an order and he wasn’t mincing words “Now!”
Adio fumbled with his car keys just as the back door shut with a thud. He sensed that the pistol was still aimed at his head even though he didn’t look back and he froze as his car revved to life.
“Hand over your phone now!” was the next order. He did without a word.
“Where, where…”he stammered.
“Just drive, bastard!”
His nose twitched as the stench of his own urine mixed with the distinctive metallic scent of blood started to fill his car.
“What are you going to do now?” Don’s voice was now calmer.
Adio looked into the rear mirror without turning his head. His eyeballs hurt as they darted between the mirror and the windscreen. The badly injured passenger groaned loudly as he thrashed his legs wildly within the cramped space. He was starting to cough out blood.
The one with the gun kept staring at the back window as though expecting another vehicle in pursuit, while his partner thrashed about beside him in a bloodied mess, nose smashed, and eyes almost shut with swelling. Even if he made it, those scars will be there forever. But he didn’t look like he would make it down to the hospital.
Adio’s compassionate instinct kicked in. If only he could find a hospital to take the injured passenger to.
“I know a hospital down this road where we can take your brother to.”
They had to be more than friends to hijack his car and source of livelihood.
Turning slowly from his view of the back window, his aggressor spoke. “Did I ask for your opinion? Drive towards Ajah.”
“That dude won’t make it Sir. If we head to Ajah.”
“That is none of your business. Drive or I will have this gun firing bullets into your skull.” The cold steel nudged his head painfully as a reminder of the threat he wielded.
“Even if you made it to the hospital before this dude passes out, the nurses would not touch him with a long pole until they get a police report. There is no chance in God’s green earth that you’d find a government run or private hospital to take him in. It’s just the stark reality.”
“What do I do now?” Adio contemplated.
“Take this turn here.” The gun nudged into his skull again. “We must avoid the police checkpoint ahead. If we run into a police checkpoint, I will shoot you first before I kill those bastards.”
“Was his assailant listening to his thoughts?”
Adio’s heartbeat was going riotous, his hands were starting to shake. He could no longer focus on the road after the threat.
If the gun went off his head, he imagined his brain matter would be splattered all over his clean upholstery.
He shut his eyes briefly, as though to wish the thought away.
But death was lurking, as he soon realized after he heard a whimper at the back.
This time when he looked into the rear mirror, the injured passenger had transitioned from human to corpse. The soul-spark and skin color that made him once alive had disappeared. It was a moving experience and Adio imagined he had just witnessed the soul leaving the human body.
Now he was carrying a corpse in his car. This angered and emboldened him.
When they drove through a long stretch of deserted road, the rider ordered him to park beside the bush.
“Come down and open this door.”
Adio quickly analyzed several scenarios in his head.
“What if I get out of the car and run off in a zigzag manner till I escape?”
Don replied “Your car registration carries your details and the police would trace you. There is no way they would believe you didn’t kill the young man.”
“What if I scream at the top of my voice so that someone may hear and come to help put an end to this bad dream.”
“The dude would fire his gun straight at you till you can’t open your mouth anymore.”
“What if….”
“I say open this door bastard!”
Adio obliged, not only with the door, but even as they both heaved the corpse out of the car, Adio tugged by the legs while the his gun-wielding passenger carried the corpse under the arm.
Just about the time they reached the part of the bush where he was ordered to drop the corpse, Adio suddenly lunged at the passenger, knocking the gun out of his clenched fist, before wrestling him to the ground. It was a moment of desperation. He was fighting for his life and livelihood. He had mounting debt that wasn’t going anywhere unless he worked his fingers to the bone. He was also committed to the hire-purchase contract he signed two years earlier.
The scuffle lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough time to scramble into his car and rev off without first shutting his driver’s door. He looked into his rearview mirror with his head ducked all the time hoping to get as far away as possible before his assailant emerged from the bushes.
When he did, he was only a tiny speck in his rearview mirror. He thought he heard the faint sound of gunshot, but he could not be sure.
Don was silent or non-existent all this while. Perhaps scared to his wit.
“I thought you had grown some balls, Don, after all these years?”
Silence, punctuated by the groaning sound of his 3.5 liter engine laboring away, was his company as he turned into roads without thinking.
Adio didn’t stop driving until he was far away from the scene, the rogue, the road and the corpse.
When he felt safe enough on a street with the streetlights turned on, he parked to catch his breath.
He wondered how much mess his backseat would be in. When he turned to look, the mess didn’t appeal at first, it was the flashing light of his mobile phone that had been seized earlier at gun point that gladdened his heart.
“Thank God.”
He was grateful for this, until he discerned a locally made pistol gleaming in the shadows on his floor mat.
“That was close!” Don’s voice sneaked in.

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

There is a particular kind of silence that falls on a man when the phone stops ringing, the proposals go unanswered, and the diary that once groaned under the weight of appointments sits quietly — almost mockingly — open. If you have ever been there, you know it.

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.

You are somewhere between forty and fifty-five. You looked in the mirror recently and had a thought you immediately dismissed. Maybe you googled something at 2am that you would never say out loud. Maybe you bought something expensive and impractical and told everyone it was an investment. Or maybe you just feel — quietly, persistently — like the life you built was supposed to feel better than this by now.

Anton Chekhov was a Russian physician and playwright — a man trained in the discipline of diagnosis before he became one of the most precise storytellers in the history of world literature. That combination of sensibilities matters, because the principle he articulated in the late nineteenth century was not merely a rule of dramatic craft. It was an observation about the nature of significance itself. About what it means for something to be present. About the relationship between introduction and consequence.

There is a prison that has no concrete walls, no iron bars, no guards posted at the gate. Nobody built it for you. Nobody sentenced you to it. And yet, for many people, it is the place they spend the better part of their lives — circling its perimeter, brushing their fingers against its invisible boundaries, and quietly retreating each time they feel the edge of something that might require more of them than they believe they can give.

Picture a hand holding sand. The tighter the grip, the faster the grains escape between the fingers. Ease the grip — open the palm, allow the hand to become a vessel rather than a vice — and the sand stays. This is one of the oldest paradoxes of leadership, and one of the least learned: that control, pursued too aggressively, produces the very loss of control it was designed to prevent.

There is a version of ambition that builds. And there is a version of ambition that consumes. From a distance — and especially from inside it — they look almost identical. Both are energetic. Both are forward-moving. Both speak the language of vision and possibility. The difference only becomes visible later, usually at the point of fracture, when what was built begins to come apart under the weight of what was promised.

There is a particular kind of organisational absurdity that most people who have ever worked in a company will recognise immediately. It is the policy that was clearly designed by someone who has never had to implement it. The restructuring that looked elegant on a slide deck and chaotic on the ground. The customer-facing process that was overhauled by a committee that has not spoken to a customer in years. The directive that arrives from above, fully formed and non-negotiable, that causes the people closest to the work to exchange a look — the kind of look that says, without words: they have no idea what we actually do here.

We have built an entire mythology around exhaustion. In boardrooms and business culture — perhaps nowhere more so than in the high-pressure, always-on professional culture many of us inhabit — busyness has become a currency. To be tired is to be serious. To be overwhelmed is to be important. To be burning out, quietly, is somehow proof that you are fully committed.
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19 thoughts on “Night Runs – chapter 4 – Blood”
Adio is really a strong man and a high risk taker.
I tell you.
Ah, the guy left his gun??? Make Adio arm up well in case he meets another customer like this. They’ll just open fire at each other…
Who can take this kinda risk if not Adio…..
Adio had to keep his livelihood.
Now he has a gun. Watch out how he uses it.
I didn’t know Adio had Jackie Chan fighting skill ooo. Lol
Now I am inspired to join a self defense class.
The spirit and instinct for survival needs no invitation. Adio had to find a way and so took his chance.
Adio displayed bravery but it is risky. An interesting story
Thanks Peter.
Adio – the wrestler. Very brave and dangerous act but we all need it sometimes in our life.
He took his chances and survived one way or the other.
This is Abidoshaker. Lol!!! Lovely story line. Welldone boss
Oopps, Adipopella!
Well done, very interesting imagery created in words.
Thank you Damola! I am glad you can see the images.
Wow! Adio’s action was hilarious
Adio must’ve been sweating bullets.Escaping that crazy scenario must’ve made him lose all his cool points ’cause they were super scarce! . To think he peed on himself
What can the poor man do? He is up against the forces of the night!