Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 7) – Grateful Seamstress

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 7) – Grateful Seamstress


That’s how I feel every time I think about the struggles I’ve been through; indeed, it’s the process that sharpens you not even the end result. I’ve been off here for a while and it wasn’t intentional, let me tell you how I ended the year 2016.

It was 2:02am, I was in my sitting room tacking the dress I wanted to wear to church for the cross over service later in the evening . I was home with my 4 siblings and a visitor; everyone was asleep except the visitor and I, we were discussing Faith and Grace – very beautiful topic. I was sitting adjacent to the window while the visitor was sitting directly opposite the window. Suddenly, the window flew open! We saw a hand holding a gun and a voice said “open the door or I shoot you!” I stared at the face of the visitor for what seemed like forever trying to read his expression. Helplessness. That’s what I saw. He got up and walked towards the door but I sat there and   for   a   brief   moment,   I   wondered   “who   are   these   people   and how   did   they   get   into   this compound?“

All four of them rushed in; two people hand guns while thew other two didn’t. They were drunk with red eyes and brown teeth. I’ve heard stories of incidents like this but I have drawn a picture of my life, hurdles inclusive and I never thought this would happen. Infact, if anybody had told me it would happen, I’ll call them a “hater” or EP – Enemy of Progress. But I hadn’t imagined it and nobody predicted it so I had to get through it unhurt. They moved the me and the visitor to the room I share with my sister. They went into my brothers ‘room, woke two of them and left the youngest. Coming in from the sitting room, they had picked two laptops, three phones, speakers and money. I wasn’t bothered because nobody was hurt. The aim was to come out alive. From the rooms, they picked yet another laptop, one phone, one iPad, they picked my kolo (piggy bank), broke it immediately and took out all the money. The thief with the iPad had no idea how it worked (petty thieves). They kept asking “wetin be the password” and I kept saying “slide to unlock”.

The one with my iPhone held me by my P.J shorts and yelled “remove your sim”. In my heart, I wondered why he had to hold me to say that. When they were done shopping, they moved all of us to my mother’s room except my brother who was asleep the whole time and they locked the door using the key. They kept asking “where is your father? Where is your mother!?” Do they steal people’s parents too? Oh thank God they were not home. We all sat down in confusion and then we started trying to wake the sleeping child. We did everything, shouted his name, threw stuff at the window etc. but he didn’t answer. We became worried wondering if they’d taken him along. They returned asking “who they shout Obinna for there? I go shoot you now!” This time they pointed the gun at me. I was sitting at the tip of my mum’s bed staring at him. He locked the door again and went away. We started hearing heavy bangs at the kitchen window and one of the thieves said “leave am, na the same house” , so they jumped the fence to my neighbors’ house where we later learnt that they made away with N202,000, 4 laptops and  6 phones.

Obinna sneezed. We all jumped up.

I could feel gratitude in the air. We were glad he was still in the house with us. He opened the door, we came out and locked all the doors they left open and went back to sleep. He said he heard us calling him but he didn’t see us in the room. We hadn’t even called him in 30 minutes. In our hearts, we knew God was still with us. The peace and joy of Christ shouldn’t be overlooked. Ask him every time to fill you with his joy and peace and you’ll be amazed at how life would be to you. It’s been weeks after this incident but the shock remains fresh because it keeps playing in my head. I resolved immediately that this incident won’t stop me from being a good person. It won’t make me hardened nor will it make me less of what I am but more. Infact, immediately the thieves left the second time, I began to praise God for life. I’m writing again because it’s long overdue. I’m writing again because young boys turned petty thieves can’t hold me back. I’m writing again because no one should allow what they’ve been through dictate how they keep living. I’m writing because as I let my light shine, I give other people the permission to do so. So, you’ll be getting sizzling gist about the Nigerian Tailor from me every Wednesday. Have a blessed day, week, month and year.

Your seamstress,

Sylvia Chioma

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 6)

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 5)

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 4)

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 3)

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 2)

Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 1)

About the Author

There's more to Lynn than meets the eye; visit "ABOUT ME" page for more details. I hope you enjoyed the article.

One thought on “Tales of A Nigerian Tailor (Part 7) – Grateful Seamstress

  1. Oma - March 1, 2017 at 6:05 pm

    Woah…my mouth and eyes were wide open while reading this. Thank God for your life!


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