Let me tell you about a man who did nothing wrong…
and still ended up running for his life.
His name was Omondi.
Thirty-two. Taxi driver. Night shift. The kind of man who measured success by whether his daughter had eaten and his rent was paid on time.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing special.
And that’s exactly why it could’ve been anyone.
---
It was past midnight when he picked up the last passenger.
Tall man. Hoodie. Nervous eyes. Gave an address across town and said, “No small talk. I’ll pay double.”
Omondi shrugged. Money was money.
But halfway through the ride, he noticed something in the rearview mirror — the man kept looking back, like someone was following them.
“You’re good, boss?” Omondi asked.
“Just drive.”
That tone. Cold. Tight. Wrong.
When they reached the destination — an old apartment block — the man jumped out in a hurry. Didn’t wait for change....
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