In the Hollow of His hands Week 6, 2012

I was only a primary school pupil in the mid 90’s when crisis broke out in Kaduna, in the northern part of the country. It was due to religious and also political instability to some extent. Thereafter the atmosphere became peaceful and the tension doused so all went back to work; normal city life seemed to have returned. Few weeks after, on a bright busy Friday afternoon, we were happily on our way home in our school bus, about 50 young children from a known private nursery and primary school in Kaduna central, when the atmosphere changed as we suddenly saw everywhere in chaos. People were running, yelling, some with bleeding wounds, I could see smoke seen ahead of us, rising from a nearby vehicle altogether in flames.
Completely barricading the road an angry mob was violently destroying and killing while chanting & shouting religious slogans. They seemed to have just left from the Friday afternoon prayers. I and all my childhood friends were thrown into panic and crying and the group of boys carrying all kinds of dangerous & crude weapons alighted on our bus. Our driver started pleading with them in their language but they were irate and started closing the windows of the bus. We heard them say in their language “burn them...” The bus was ignited after fuel was poured over it. In my memory I still see my childhood friends and innocent children burning alive. Smoke had filled everywhere in the bus.
The glass near where I sat towards the back shattered. I don’t understand how, the mighty hand of God I believe, and I felt as it were someone’s hand carry me and throw me out through that window. One from the mob chased after me, I believe probably to kill me, as I got up from the express road and ran without direction across the road. I narrowly escaped a fast oncoming ash coloured 504 Peugeot saloon car, which the one coming after me with a dagger fell upon and was crushed. I thought to run into the railway line and cross to the other side of the road when I looked back and my school bus was altogether in flames. I continued running and crying, not knowing where I was or where to run to, yet could see some of the mob appearing to be interested in pursuing me.
I then ran into a compound and into a house saw a man in probably his late 50’s whom I ran into his arms, I don’t know who he was. Few minutes later two among the mob arrived and greeted the man in their usual slogan of religious identification. That was when it dawn on me that I was in the hands of my enemies but surprisingly he had hidden me in his inner room and lied to them that I had ran out via the back gate and the boys went on. That was how I was delivered to stay in his house for two days. He took me home as I told him where we lived but everyone had run away. He still took me to the army barracks and there I found my mother. The LORD's kindness never fails! If he had not been merciful, we would have been destroyed Lam 3:22(CEV).
Moses is a physician and minister of the gospel in Nsukka diocese