I come from a family of three boys, (Emmanuel, Abayomi, Tokunbo) and one girl, (Stephanie). We grew up in the oil-rich city of Port Harcourt, Nigeria, enjoying the good life (actually, my dad was a very successful Chemical engineer.) We hadn’t visited my parent’s hometown, Aiyeteju, Kogi state, before. But all that changed when my dad came back one afternoon from work crying. The year was 2000 and I was 15 years old. It was the first and only time we saw dad cry so we were all really scared. He told us to pack a few things that we were traveling to his hometown right away. Somehow, no one, not even my mom could ask him what happened. All of a sudden the house was in commotion as we were running helter-skelter, trying to fill our travel bags with what we felt we would need for a journey whose purpose was yet to be known.
Fast forward fifteen minutes from when he broke the news of our sudden trip and we were on our way to our hometown. My dad was driving at top speed like the character in the movie, “The Transporter,” but I wasn’t impressed: The trip from Port Harcourt to Aiyeteju was about 960 kilometers and even if he maintained this speed throughout the trip, with no stops, it would still take us till midnight to reach our destination. This line of thought was truncated when my dad suddenly announced why we were traveling: His mother, our grandma just died! I didn’t know whether to scream or cry, so I was silent. It seemed we rehearsed the whole thing – because no one said a word until way past midnight when something unusual happened. By now we were less than thirty minutes from home, exhausted from the journey. All of a sudden, an animal crossed the road. Startled, my dad hit the brakes and swerved and we heard “gboooooooo.” Of course we all screamed in panic but dad got control of the car in time, parked and came out to observe the situation. Well, we had hit a black rabbit. He picked it up, put it inside the trunk of the car and we continued our trip. Five minutes later another animal crossed the road and the car hit it! Again, my dad came out, picked it up and found out it was another black rabbit, so he put it in the trunk of the car like the first one and we moved on. Unbelievably, every five minutes or so, we kept hitting a black rabbit and we were paralyzed with fear. But for some inexplicable reason, dad still came out to put each rabbit in the car trunk. I had never witnessed such a weird thing before and I wondered what was happening. My parents were obviously bewildered too so there was no use asking them for an explanation.
With seven lifeless black rabbits “resting in peace” inside the car trunk, we finally got home. Everywhere was dark and not a soul was outside. It was like a ghost town, as if everyone was dead. My parents knocked on doors and woke people up. They were shocked to see us and wondered why we took such risk. There were about fifteen people awake now who came out to welcome us. My dad narrated the bizarre story of the seven black rabbits in the trunk of the car. Of course, everyone was so eager to behold the seven strange rabbits, so my dad proceeded to the back of the car, opened the trunk and alas, not a single rabbit was there! They were all gone! He started to stutter, “I, I, I …put them in the trunk myself; all seven of them. They were lifeless. Honey, children, please say something, don’t just stand there and mope. Didn’t we all see it? So where are they now?”
We were just nodding our heads as if to say, “Sure we saw them. But, but, where are they now dad?” The others were perplexed. You could see the surprise on their faces. They wanted desperately to believe our story but there was no evidence to help our case here.
Well, we buried grandma and returned back to Port Harcourt a few days later. That was the last time my dad drove at night! Till today, no one has been able to come up with a credible explanation for what really happened that fateful night.
What are your thoughts? Please share down below.