Angry mob has reportedly beaten man to death for allegedly stabbing his friend to death for secretly sleeping with his girlfriend

The tragic incident occurred at Oshodi, Lagos State on Wednesday March 24. A 35-year-old man identified as Segun Afuye was beaten to death by an angry mob for reportedly stabbing his friend Elewure Sodiq to death for secretly sleeping with his girlfriend.

Eyewitnesses alleged that Segun who confronted Sodiq at a bar in the area for sleeping with his girlfriend Kafayat stabbed him on the neck with a broken bottle. He died on the spot.

The act angered the crowd which gathered, leading to him being beaten seriously. It was further learnt that Segun died before police officers who were called in to restore order in the area arrived.

The girl who caused the conflict that led to death of the two friends is yet to be identified

Day 2 – The Road Not Taken

6AM was our wake up time Saturday morning. The caretaker for Likabula Lodge prepared a breakfast for us in similar fashion to something Godfrey might have made. One member of our 5 man team was so nervous that instead of eating, he had to excuse himself from the table and make an offering at the porcelain altar. None of us had climbed a mountain before, and there was no feeling appropriate for the occasion apart from trepidation. After breakfast, we met Chip and our 3 porters.

Chip lives in the town of Mulanje and makes his living by guiding people around the mountain. He gets paid 2,500 Kwacha per day (about $7). Kellen has used Chip before, and he’s even loaned him some money to start a woodcarving business. Kellen arranged to have Chip guide us for free, as a way to pay back his loans.

The other 3 porters don’t speak English well, but they make their living by helping to carry equipment up the mountain. We each had a backpack, but our 3 porters carried a few essentials, i.e. sleeping bags, Snickers bars, and Settlers of Catan.

We designated which porter would get what duffel bag, took a picture, said a prayer, and then asked Chip to lead the way. The first 5 minutes were deceptively easy. We walked on soft dirt with just the slightest incline. 5 minutes was enough time to grant us an unwarranted confidence towards our impending journey.

We then came to two roads diverged in a wood. We were told to take “Skyline Path” only to later find out that it was the one less traveled by. Skyline is probably less traveled by because it’s steeper and more painful. And no, I wasn’t sorry that I couldn’t travel both paths.

15 minutes on Skyline was enough to obliterate our false sense of confidence. Our path was a staircase of melon sized rocks, tucked into flat brown dirt, framed by an ironically pleasant mix of both fresh and dried grass. Every corner we turned ruined the evidence of our progress, and replaced it with an unavoidable reminder that mountains are, in fact, really tall.

Sweat dripped down my face, and coated my lips with salt. I was ready for a break at any moment, but would never dream of voicing my inclination. This was a man’s trip. You don’t do things like rest on a man’s trip. The other 4 guys possessed the same stubborn thoughts, and so we hiked uphill for a full hour until we mercifully came to another group who was already taking a break.

They, like us, were white. Whenever you see other white people in Malawi, there is an unspoken but shared curiosity wondering what the other party is doing in this country. The conversation is had entirely through eye contact. I took off my bag, and sat down next to one of the guys who looked to be my age.

I don’t remember his name, but he and his friend are teaching at a missionary school in Blantyre for the year. His group had their own guide, and they would be taking a different route than us.

After finishing our break, and parting ways from our fellow teachers, we hiked another grueling 1.5 hours before reaching flat land. We took the first of many premature celebratory photos, not acknowledging that we weren’t even halfway that day.

Eventually we made it to a stream, which did signal our halfway achievement. I stripped my sweaty cotton shirt from my back, and our group passed around nuts which were aggressively devoured. Being that this was a spiritual retreat, it was also time to whip out the Bible. I read a well-timed passage from James 1, and offered a prayer for the group.

The remainder of our hike took us through two breath-taking views that neither words nor pictures can adequately describe. Below is an attempt to capture to both.

The latter was taken a few minutes before we reached Chesepo, the hut we would be staying at for the night. Upon our arrival, we entered the hut and beheld our third breathtaking sight: Coke and Fanta.

Instinct, rather than intentional action, took over and we grabbed for a bottle and toasted “to Kellen.” It was unanimously agreed that we would not be here without his help.

That night, after dark, my view included the sporadic igniting of distant village fires creating tiny, spread out lights for miles.

It was a solemn reminder that even out here, there are happy villagers living the entirety of their lives next to this giant of a mountain. Before bed, Woody gave his testimony, prayed, and we all fell asleep under a full moon. Tomorrow we would conquer the peak.

Check out part 2 tomorrow

Source:mathsinmalawi

As we approached Mulanje, it was hard to imagine that we would be climbing it’s tallest peak. Mulanje is 10,000 feet high, and lays claim to the tallest rock face in all of Africa. To put things in perspective, the day before I left for Malawi I went skydiving, and I was dropped from that same height.

But before reaching our destination, we encountered a beautiful catholic church tucked away in the woods. We got out to have a closer look.

The 5 of us walked around looking for an unlocked entrance. I peered into a window, and saw that the congregation was in the middle of mass. The congregation was thinly spread across the cement floor, praying on their knees, when suddenly I heard Bill shout, “Woody, look out above you!” There was a swarm of bees hovering over his head. Woody put his head down, dove into a sprint, and got away.

After deciding that we had disrupted their service enough, the five of us lethargically piled back into the car for the last stretch. We continued down the road till our truck reached what would be our home for the next 3 nights.

As we drove along the dirt road base of Mulanje, we encountered rickety bridges, and giant pot holes. We knew a left turn had to be made, but were unsure of when. We saw a potential left turn, and slowed the truck.

Immediately 2 men (pictured below) started walking towards us. “Oh great…what do these guys want?” I thought. They approached our vehicle and, in a thick accent, said, “Are you friends of Kellen?” I could hear everyone’s jaw drop. Kellen, our head teacher, had called these gentleman and asked them to look for us. They guided us to Likabula Lodge, where we would stay for the night.

We collapsed on our beds until dinner time. The table was set for 15 people, and we ate family style with a group from the Netherlands.

Afterwards, 4 of the girls our age stayed to chat for the night and we heard amazing stories about what they were doing as village dwellers in Zomba (the mountain town we passed through earlier that day).

That was one of my first experiences were I, a traveler, was able to exchange experiences with other, fellow travelers. But with an early departure the next day, we called it a night at 9:30 and collapsed under our mosquito nets.

Check out part 2 tomorrow…

Source:mathinmalawi