Minutes Before

Today at NYSC Community Development Service, I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me to drop my phone and pray.

Honestly, I didn’t want to.

The place was hot and noisy, hardly the kind of environment that makes you feel spiritual. I told myself I’d pray later, at home. Still, the urgency lingered, tapping at me in a way that refused to be ignored.

Before I could think too much about it, the excos brought out the public address system and asked us to stand for the NYSC anthem. After that, the LGI (Local Government Inspector) began to speak about our next community service. I stopped listening halfway through, distracted by how effortlessly put together she looked. Then she paused.

“So before we welcome our SAED partners,” she said, “one of you approached me a minute ago. He said he wants to say a prayer. Where is he?”

My attention snapped back immediately.

A corper walked up to the podium, removed his cap, and said, “Let’s bow our heads to pray.”

You could feel the unease ripple through the crowd. This wasn’t normal. People didn’t just walk up to pray at CDS.

“Father, in Jesus’ name, we thank you. We ask that you take charge of all that will happen here today. Let there be no accident, no death, no casualty… in Jesus’ name.”

It was brief, but sincere. Everyone shouted AMEN.

As he handed the microphone back, we heard a loud crash behind us.

People jumped to their feet.

A corper had been hit by a blue jeep as she was entering the premises. She lay on the ground, her bag spilled open. The sound alone felt fatal.

About five excos rushed toward her, but before they reached her, she opened her eyes, stood up, and started gathering her things. She looked shaken, but otherwise… fine.

Too fine.

As she walked closer, recognition hit me like a slap.

It was Bunmi. My friend.

I ran to her and hugged her. “Are you okay? That was terrifying. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I know,” she said, still trembling. “Last night, my mum dreamed that I died.”

I froze.

Suddenly, I understood the weight of that earlier nudge. I didn’t know it had anything to do with someone I loved. I just knew I ignored it.

The excos told Bunmi she could skip the rest of CDS and see the LGI so she could go for a check-up. As she walked away, my eyes searched the crowd and landed on the corper who had prayed minutes earlier.

I wondered if he’d felt that same burden.
And I wondered if his obedience, in a moment that seemed small, was the reason we didn’t witness a tragedy that day.

I ignored the nudge.

Someone else didn’t.

This is why learning to hear and obey God matters.
Sometimes it’s more than just good advice. It can be life-saving