Cub

Ogbomoso, a town known for its close-knit community and serene atmosphere, was where the Ojo family had built their life. The Ojo household was filled with the sounds of laughter, the scent of home-cooked meals, and the warmth of love. Inspector Oluwakayode "Kayode" Ojo, a respected former police officer, ran his household with discipline and a strong sense of duty. His wife, Folake, was the heart of the home—a nurturing mother who balanced out Kayode's strictness with her gentle nature.

Their three children were their pride and joy. Adebisi, the eldest, was responsible and mature beyond his years. Ifedayo, the middle child, was carefree and always brought a sense of lightheartedness to the family. And then there was Morayo, the youngest, a bright and curious girl who was the apple of her father’s eye.

The Ojo family was well-known in Ogbomoso. Their home was often filled with visitors, friends, and neighbors who admired the close bond they shared. Life was simple and joyful, filled with the routine of school, work, and family gatherings.

But life, as it often does, had other plans.

It was a Saturday, and the town was alive with the buzz of a local wedding. Folake had taken Adebisi and Ifedayo to the wedding of a close family friend, leaving Kayode and Morayo at home. Kayode, ever the disciplinarian, decided to use the quiet time to help Morayo with her homework. As they worked together at the dining table, the phone rang, breaking the peaceful silence of the house.

Kayode answered the call, his face immediately tightening as he listened to the voice on the other end. The cheerful mood in the room shifted as Morayo noticed the change in her father’s expression. His normally composed demeanor was replaced with something she had never seen before—fear.

"Kayode, there's been an accident," the voice on the other end said. The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"What happened?" Kayode demanded, his voice strained.

"It was the bus Folake and the children were on. A tanker collided with it on the expressway. It’s bad... really bad."

The world seemed to blur around Kayode as he processed the information. His mind raced, but he struggled to focus. "Where are they? Are they...?" His voice faltered.

"You need to come to the hospital. Now."

Without a word, Kayode grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, his heart pounding in his chest. Morayo, sensing something was terribly wrong, followed him to the door, her small voice trembling as she called after him. "Daddy, where are you going? What’s wrong?"

"Stay here, Morayo," Kayode said, his voice uncharacteristically soft but firm. "I'll be back soon."

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. Kayode’s mind was a whirlwind of fear, disbelief, and desperation. When he arrived, he was met by the sight of ambulances, flashing lights, and the grim faces of the medical staff. His heart sank as he was led inside by a nurse who seemed reluctant to speak.

In the emergency room, the reality of the situation hit him like a tidal wave. There, covered with white sheets, were the lifeless bodies of Folake, Adebisi, and Ifedayo. Kayode stood frozen, unable to comprehend the scene before him. His wife, his children—gone in an instant.

A doctor approached, his face solemn, and gently placed a hand on Kayode’s shoulder. "I’m so sorry, Mr. Ojo. There was nothing we could do."

Kayode fell to his knees beside the bodies, his vision blurred by tears. He reached out, touching Folake’s hand, then Adebisi’s, then Ifedayo’s. They were cold, lifeless. The reality of his loss overwhelmed him, and he wept openly, his sobs echoing through the sterile room.

Time passed in a haze. Kayode didn’t know how long he stayed there, kneeling by their sides, but eventually, he was led away by the doctor. The drive home was silent, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a physical burden.

When he arrived home, Morayo was waiting anxiously at the door. She ran to him as soon as he stepped out of the car. "Daddy! Where’s Mummy? Where’s Bisi and Dayo?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Kayode knelt down to her level, his heart breaking as he looked into her wide, trusting eyes. "Morayo… they’re not coming back," he whispered, his voice choking on the words.

Morayo didn’t understand at first. She looked at her father, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, Daddy? Where are they?"

"They’re gone, my dear. They’ve gone to be with God."

For a moment, Morayo just stared at him, her mind struggling to grasp what he was saying. But then, slowly, the realization dawned on her, and tears began to fill her eyes. "No, Daddy… no…"

Kayode pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she cried. He could feel her small body shaking with sobs, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down himself. "I’m here, Morayo. I’ll always be here. I promise you, I’ll never let anything happen to you."

As the days passed, the house that was once filled with laughter and warmth became a place of mourning. The funeral was a somber affair, attended by the entire community. Friends and neighbors came to pay their respects, offering condolences and prayers, but Kayode barely heard them. His mind was numb, his heart hollowed out by grief.

At the gravesite, as the final words were spoken, Kayode stood with Morayo by his side. He held her hand tightly, the only thing anchoring him to the present. As the caskets were lowered into the ground, he made a silent vow. From this day forward, he would protect Morayo with everything he had. She was all he had left, and he would not lose her too.

As Kayode and Morayo turned to leave the cemetery, the weight of his promise pressed heavily on his heart. He knew that nothing would ever be the same again, but he was determined to keep his vow, no matter the cost.