26/01/2026
At about 1am, I was asleep.
My phone rang.
That call woke me up from sleep — and from that moment, my life changed.
They told me:
“Oga, your plaza is on fire.”
At first, I didn’t believe it.
I stood up from my bed in confusion. My heart was racing. I kept asking myself, “Fire? My shops?”
I rushed out immediately.
On my way, I was praying silently:
“God, please let this not be true.”
But when I got there…
what I saw broke me completely.
Fire everywhere.
Smoke everywhere.
People shouting.
Firefighters struggling to control the fire.
They were not allowing anyone to go inside.
But how could I stay outside?
My two shops were inside.
Both shops were fully stocked with high-end laptops.
I forced my way in.
I begged.
I dragged myself through.
When I finally looked into my first shop —
everything was gone.
Water everywhere.
Fire had already done its work.
What I could touch… was ashes.
I ran to the second shop.
Same thing.
Ashes.
Nothing to rescue.
Nothing to save.
I couldn’t stand anymore.
I ran back out and just stood there, watching the fire continue to burn —
watching years of hard work disappear in one night.
I went back home.
That day, I didn’t eat.
I didn’t drink water.
I cried the whole day.
I kept asking God:
“What did I do?”
“Why me?”
This is not a story I ever wanted to tell.
But I’m telling it now — little by little.
Because this fire wiped everything.
In the next episode, I will tell you how the fire started and what people don’t know about that night.
Nonso Nwosu
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Babajide Sanwo-Olu