Chapter 2: The Disappearance of Nnenna

The missing girl was Nnenna Okafor, a second-year student at Community Secondary School—gentle, well-mannered, and graceful. Her parents both graduated from top universities and held high positions in the local government. The family was comfortable.

People in the estate often pointed her out: 'See Nnenna, the pride of Okafor's house.' She moved with the quiet confidence that came from never lacking. If you greeted her, she would smile and answer with that kind of respectful tone that makes elders nod approvingly. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Okafor, were always quick to remind everyone at PTA meetings about the importance of discipline and education. A model family, at least from the outside.

Nnenna liked to play tennis, so her father enrolled her in a closed tennis youth training camp. But the very next day, Nnenna’s mother found out she couldn’t reach her; her phone was switched off. The couple rushed to the training camp, only to hear shocking news: on the day she checked in, Nnenna said she wasn’t feeling well and left, collecting her refunded camp fee before going.

Her mother kept calling, her voice shaking with each unanswered ring. When the camp manager explained how Nnenna left with her camp fee, Mrs. Okafor nearly fainted. Even the receptionist whispered, 'Madam, take heart o.' The shock was thick in the air, hanging over their heads like a curse.

This made her parents panic. They called the police immediately.

You know how it is—when a politician's child goes missing, even the commissioner himself might pick the call. The police responded with sirens blaring, promising action before the evening news.

We rushed to the training camp to check their CCTV footage. The sun was hot enough to fry akara on the bonnet, sweat soaking my shirt as we rewound the footage. True to their word, Nnenna was seen leaving.

She wore her tennis whites, bag slung over her shoulder. The camera caught her pausing at the gate, looking back as if searching for someone. Then, she vanished into the city heat.