Grace Afangideh’s sad story is not just one of personal tragedy but a heartbreaking reflection of the dangers faced by corps members sent to serve their nation, yet often left at the mercy of unsafe roads, insecurity, and a system that offers little protection, writes CHIJIOKE IREMEKA
Haunted by fears of road accidents and kidnapping, Grace Afangideh chose what she believed was the safest route, air travel.
The young lady boarded a flight to Enugu and planned to complete the remaining part of her journey to the National Youth Service Corps orientation camp in Ebonyi State by road. Yet, fate had other plans.
She met her untimely death midway to the orientation camp in a horrific auto crash.
At 25, Grace, a brilliant and determined soul, was a young woman with big dreams. She was the second daughter of hardworking parents who toiled under the scorching sun to give her the education they never had.
She was their beacon of hope, the one expected to lift them out of hardship and into a life of ease.
Her journey toward that dream began in 2019 when she was admitted to the University of Calabar to study English and Literary Studies.
The day she received her admission letter, pride radiated from her parents’ eyes.
As she packed her bags for school, they believed their sacrifices were finally paying off.
But for Grace, earning a degree wasn’t just about fulfilling academic ambition—it was a promise, one that would ensure her parents’ struggles were not in vain.
With this mindset, she poured her heart into her studies, graduating with good grades. With such a trajectory, the road ahead shimmered with possibilities.
When she received her NYSC call-up letter and was posted to Ebonyi State, it marked a significant milestone in her life.
For her, the moment she had been waiting for, the time to start repaying her parents’ love and sacrifices, had finally arrived.
Grace had it all planned out: work hard, support her family, and bring them the comfort they deserved. But fate, as it would later prove, had other plans in store.
Journey of no return
On the evening of Tuesday, January 21, 2025, Grace left home to stay closer to the airport. Her house was far, and she needed to catch an early morning flight.
“She could have travelled by road, but due to fear of accidents and insecurity in the Southeast, she opted for air travel via Lagos to Abakaliki,” her father, Mr Camillus Afangideh, told our correspondent.
But destiny had already set a cruel course, as death waited, lurking in the shadows.
“She couldn’t get a direct flight to Abakaliki because of a problem. Her last option was to land at Enugu airport and continue by road to Ebonyi,” he explained.
With determination and excitement, Grace, our correspondent learnt, boarded a flight from Lagos to Enugu on the morning of January 22.
The flight was smooth, and she arrived safely. But the journey wasn’t over, she still needed to get to Ebonyi to begin her NYSC orientation camp.
Unknown to Grace, who later boarded an Enugu North Mass Transit bus with other corps members, the very thing she feared the most was waiting for her.
“Thirty minutes into the journey, the vehicle she was travelling in collided with another, and she died on the spot,” her father said, his voice trembling with grief.
“Grace always harboured a deep fear of road accidents and kidnapping. She often voiced her concerns, never imagining that her worst fear would be the very thing that claimed her life,” he added, struggling to control his emotions.
Even after her death, he revealed, her siblings dreamt of her, insisting she was still alive.
Grace’s family was left shattered, holding onto nothing but a pair of NYSC-branded boots and a cap, symbols of what could have been, of the bright future she never got to fulfil.
According to her father, they had all believed Grace would be the one to change their lives, to bring them joy, to erase the years of hardship.
Instead, they were left mourning a daughter whose light was extinguished far too soon.
While speaking with our correspondent, her father could not stop talking about her unfulfilled dreams.
“Grace always harboured a deep fear of road accidents and kidnapping. She often voiced her concerns, never imagining that her worst fear would be the very thing that claimed her life,” he repeated, his voice quivering.
He revealed that even when news of her death reached them, her siblings continued to dream of her, insisting she was still alive.
A mother’s last memory
On the day Grace left home to stay closer to the airport, her mother, Rosemary, had no idea she was embarking on a journey of no return.
The grieving woman recalled how, just a few hours before, they had shared what would be their final conversation.
“She had stopped working three days earlier to prepare for the trip. She used to work at Jendol Superstores,” her mother said, her voice laced with sorrow.
“On the afternoon of January 21, when I returned home, I saw her packing and arranging her things. We talked for a while, and she was so excited. She reassured me, promising to send me her monthly allowance as a gesture of love. We were hopeful.”
After their conversation, Rosemary left for church. By the time she returned, her daughter was gone.
“She had to catch an early morning flight on January 22, so she decided to spend the night at the airport. I thought I would see her again when I got back from church, but she had already left.”
A mother’s worst fear
When Grace landed at Enugu airport, she called her mother. But being a teacher, Rosemary was in class and did not have her phone with her.
“I was teaching when she called. As a teacher, I don’t usually take my phone to class. By the time my colleague brought it to me, the call had already dropped,” she said, her voice heavy with regret.
That call turned out to be the last chance to hear her daughter’s voice—because just hours later, Grace was gone.
After her lesson, Rosemary tried calling her daughter back, but the call didn’t go through.
She tried several times, but each attempt was met with silence.
Concerned, she reached out to her son, who was away at the time, hoping he could get through. But his calls, too, went unanswered.
By the time she returned home around 5 p.m., her other daughter informed her that she had also been trying to call Grace, but the line wasn’t connecting.
“I started feeling uneasy,” she recalled. “Could it be kidnappers? That was one of her biggest fears, which was why she chose to fly instead of travelling by road.”
As the hours passed, tension mounted. Friends began calling, saying they hadn’t heard from her either. The family frantically reached out to different contacts, each person dialling her number, but there was still no response.
Then, around 6 p.m., what seemed like a glimmer of hope emerged. One of her friends, a corps member who had travelled ahead of her, called and said she hadn’t heard from Grace.
The friend kept calling her number until, finally, someone picked up.
A stranger’s voice delivered the chilling news: Grace had been involved in an accident. She was in the hospital.
Clinging to false hope
Desperate for more information, the family kept calling. Eventually, the NYSC state coordinator answered.
“The woman said she needed my husband’s presence. But when I explained that he couldn’t come, she refused to speak with me and only communicated with my elder daughter, Esther,” Rosemary recounted.
The coordinator eventually gave them her number, allowing for direct communication.
She assured them that Grace was receiving proper care in the Intensive Care Unit.
With those words, hope flickered. They held on to faith, believing she would recover.
But what they didn’t know was that the official was stalling, trying to figure out how to break the tragic news.
By Thursday morning, January 23, Rosemary spoke with the NYSC coordinator again.
This time, she was reassured that her daughter was recovering, and a wave of relief swept over her.
But that relief was short-lived. Moments later, a knock on the door shattered her world.
“When I saw unfamiliar men and women standing outside, I knew something was wrong,” she said, her voice breaking.
It was Lagos State NYSC officials. They had come to deliver the devastating news.
According to them, Grace was the only one who died at the scene of the accident. Two others later succumbed to their injuries, and the driver passed away three days later.
Haunting goodbyes
Corroborating her husband’s words, the mother of five said her other children kept seeing Grace in their dreams.
“In one of her visits, her sister asked for the password to her phone so that vital information could be retrieved, but she refused. She said that if she revealed the password, it meant she had truly died.
Even Grace couldn’t believe what had happened to her.”
‘Her final visit was a farewell’
“After we returned from her burial, she visited again. But this time, she didn’t enter the house. Normally, she would come inside, but instead, she stood by the window, saying goodbye,” Grace’s mother said.
Her elder sister, Esther, confirmed the eerie encounters.
“My last memory of her was when she left for the airport. She was so excited about the NYSC camp. We chatted about her trip, not knowing it would be our last conversation,” she said.
“She was full of life, full of dreams. I will miss her forever.”
Buried amid wails
Before the final burial, a Requiem Mass was held in her honour at St. Lawrence, Isheri Olofin, on January 27 at 6 p.m.
Her body was then moved from Ebonyi to her father’s compound in Nto Ubiam, Okon, Essien Udim Local Government Area of Akwa Ibom State, on January 30, 2025.
Death benefits
Sunday TheNigerian learnt that, so far, the NYSC has only sent Grace’s death certificate to her parents in Abuja.
“We were told that they are currently processing her death benefits and will get back to us as soon as the process is completed,” the parents told Saturday TheNigerian when asked about efforts made by the NYSC since the unfortunate incident.
