The agony continues all day

On the night of the fifth day, Thursday, she overheard the men on the phone talking to someone in Pidgin English asking how they shoud dispose of her body. It was one of the most terrifying moments of her rec of the men left as usual, leaving bchind one guard night But about two hours afite ne had been assing bchind one f her thought he had just stepped around the corner and My mother wondered whe the about two hours after his companions left, he left abruptly back. But she waited several hours, and he did not well.

My mother thought he as wld be comie n that fores jewne years, some ways, she said, she felt even more terrified to be along she was shoved into the kidnap vehicle on Sunday, the goled they deemed was not valuable enough. It was a blessing. It was around 9 p.m. when the man guarding her left, and should return. It clearing in the dark, waiting for an unknown fat he wore to church, including her cherished wedding ring of
was taken.

But the kidnappers left her gold-plated said, because she could tell time and count the hours till dawn. about four hours for his return. When he did not come back started working on the rope that bound her hands behind her hack she wisting different ways as she tried to loosen the grip. She continued doing this all night, and by the time enough for her to wiggle her arms out and untie her legs. She looked around, saw no one, and decided to make a run for it.when arrived, the rope was loose.

My eighty-three-year-old mother ran, jogged, and walked through he forest, terrified that her captors would return, find her, and finish her off. She walked for about two hours before she began to hear what she thought sounded like cars on the highway. It was now almost 7a.m. on Friday morning, and she continued in the direction of the noise. About forty-five minutes later, she heard vehicles moving nearby. She was on an incline, and when she looked down, she could see a major highway, with trucks and cars moving. But how was she to get down? My mother decided that the only way down was to slide down. By the time she got to the bottom, she was covered with scrapes, bruises, mud, leaves, and grass. She said that she must have looked like the mad men and women that one often sees in Nigeria wandering by the roadside or muttering to themselves in the market square withing She stood by the side of the road, trying in vain to wave down a car or a truck. People took one look at her and moved on. Now crying profusely, she stood on the highway frightened that her captors might still come after her. It was only after 45 minutes that a motorcycle taxi came by, driven by a young man. When she waved, he hesitated for a few moments and moved on. In desperation, she ran after him and he stopped. Sobbing, she told him who she was and about her escape.