Who killed Ego?

Jun 27, 2025

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or people — living or dead — is purely coincidental. The story contains mature themes, including violence, grief, and psychological distress. Reader discretion is advised.

As I turned onto Adewale Crescent, floodwater pooled along the roadside and dirt littered almost every corner. That’s when I saw Ego sitting on the staircase. Her face wore a familiar expression — a mixture of pain and regret.

I wanted to move closer, but then I remembered… Ego is dead.

Why is she here?

My brain couldn’t catch up. My body refused to move. The street narrowed. The air got tighter.

She didn’t say a word, but I could hear her voice in my head — a mix of mumbles and whispers. I couldn’t make out a single word. A blend of grief and accusation, loud and incoherent, like it belonged in another world.

Suddenly, she looked me straight in the eye. Her face twisted into something monstrous — eyes full of rage, teeth bared.

In a flash, she charged at me. Faster than anything human.

Her face twisted midair — her jaw unhinged, her pupils expanded, and she reached for me with fingers too long and skin too pale. My body was frozen.

I woke up, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.

That was the fifth time I’d dreamt about Ego since she died a week ago.

I’m starting to wonder… is this guilt? Or is she really coming back?

Because if she is, she’s not coming to say goodbye. She’s coming to finish what we started.

Should I go to the police and confess?

Ego was my best friend. I failed her.

I wish I hadn’t called her out that night. I wish we hadn’t argued. I wish it wasn’t over Festus.

But it didn’t start with blood.

It started with a text from Samuel.

He’d made his first crypto sale — ₦2.3 million. He wanted to celebrate. A mini hangout, just us: Samuel, Funmi, Festus, Ego, and me.

Ego almost didn’t come. She had a church vigil that night. But I talked her into it.

God, I wish I hadn’t.

I remember the apartment. Dim lights dancing across the wall, the faint scent of suya mixed with cheap perfume. Wine on the shelf. Pringles. Laughter waiting to begin.

It was perfect — mostly because Festus would be there. I had liked him for a long time. Ego knew this.

I planned to tell him how I felt.

We chatted. We laughed. I giggled at everything he said. He made me feel light — warm. Like maybe things could finally go my way.

Then Ego arrived an hour later.

Looking perfect, of course. That dark skin that glowed under cheap lighting. That vanilla-strawberry scent that lingered even when she passed. She told us she lied to her parents and said she was going for Youth Service. We laughed.

She made everything look easy.

We were still laughing when Funmi came in. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes darted everywhere. She said she was fine but asked to speak with Festus privately.

They left almost immediately.

Funmi was always the gentle one — kind, soft-spoken, hard to read. Recently, she’d been raving about a new guy. I assumed she just needed advice.

I went to the bathroom and heard their voices echoing through the hallway. It wasn’t a heart-to-heart. It was a heated argument.

Before I could sneak away, they noticed me.

Festus looked furious. Funmi looked like she’d been crying all day. I reached out to comfort her, but she brushed me off.

We all returned to the living room like nothing had happened.

Later, I asked Festus if we could talk alone. He nodded.

I told him how I felt.

He stared at me like I had just confessed to fraud.

Then he said, “I thought you weren’t into me. Ego said you didn’t like me like that.”

What?

He continued, “And… I thought you should know. Ego and I… we’re dating. We just didn’t want to make it public yet.”

I felt sick. We’d planned everything together — how I’d confess to Festus. She betrayed me. And she had a boyfriend already! Why would she date two people?

I was furious.

Back in the living room, I lashed out. I pulled her hair.

She fell, and I jumped on her. We fought. The boys separated us eventually, but it was messy.

I yelled at her, demanding to know why she would betray me — and two guys.

Festus was stunned. He asked her to deny it. She couldn’t. He burst into tears.

Then Festus dropped his own bombshell: He gave Ego ₦15 million for her scholarship trip. They were secretly dating too. She was supposed to go abroad and come back for him.

I couldn’t breathe.

We all sat in silence.

Funmi. Ego. Festus. Me. Samuel.

And all our secrets bleeding into the room.

Festus became violent, demanding Ego return his money or he would report to the police.

She started laughing hysterically and said, “The money I have spent, you cannot get a kobo from me. Do your worst.”

It turns out, she only gave me the go-ahead because she knew I would eventually tell Festus about her other boyfriend. She counted on it. There is no scholarship and no travelling. The betrayal was part of her plan — and somehow, everything is unfolding exactly how she wanted.

He lunged at her and tried to strangle her until we pulled him off.

The hatred I felt for her is beyond me. She took and used the only man I loved. I thought to myself, I will make her pay for it — I honestly wanted her gone.

The night spiraled. No one expected any of this.

Eventually, the room dimmed. I fell asleep on a cushion, emotionally drained.

Then a scream woke me.

It came from the hallway.

I ran.

There she was.

Ego. On the floor.

Lifeless. Face frozen in terror. A pool of blood underneath her.

Funmi stood over her, shaking, hands over her mouth.

I wanted to believe it was a nightmare. Another one. But the blood soaked through the tiles. The air reeked of iron and death.

Samuel screamed. Festus knelt by her, shaking her body. She didn’t move.

Someone had stabbed her.

And the killer was one of us.

The chaos that followed is a blur.

We argued. Screamed. Accused.

Everyone looked at me first. Of course. I fought her earlier.

I didn't know what to say. I was still shaking from the aftermath. So I pointed at Festus — she spent all his money and wouldn’t return anything.

Festus looked murderous. “I gave her everything. Maybe I wanted to kill her, but I didn’t.” That didn’t sound convincing.

Funmi said nothing. Just stared at the floor.

Then Festus said it. “Funmi is pregnant. It was a one-time thing.”

We all looked at Funmi.

“What?”

“You’re pregnant,” he said. “And you knew about me and Ego.”

I stood there in disbelief.

Funmi’s hands trembled. “You’re crazy. We were ending anyway. Why would I kill her?”

Then Samuel — quiet, silent Samuel — whispered, “What if we… cover it up?”

Samuel was the only one with a clear alibi.

One of us did it. And they were lying.

Then Ego’s phone rang. It was her mom.

We turned it off, trying to stay calm.

I suggested calling the police. The others said no. Too risky — the story would not favor us.

Samuel suggested hiding the body.

What?

We hadn’t even processed her death.

But time was running out.

My phone rang. Her mom again. I answered with a sleepy voice. She asked if I had seen Ego — she didn’t attend the church vigil. I said no.

I cried after the call. I couldn’t believe we were here.

We wrapped Ego in a polythene bag and hid her in Samuel’s storeroom. We agreed to bury her in the forest later that night.

I got home, collapsed into bed, haunted by her face — terrified.

By afternoon, her mom had reported it to the police. We helped post “missing person” flyers, crying emojis and all – saying how much we loved and someone should help find her soon.

Only us know the truth.

By 9 p.m., we met again at Samuel’s. Shove, gloves, torches layed on the floor in the living room. It all looked too ready. He even borrowed his uncle's car to convey us.

Almost like he expected this.

I took Ego’s phone. Deleted every message. Every trace.

Then I checked her Notes app. She always kept a journal. The last entry was time-stamped just before midnight:

“Samuel is angry. I told him I’m not giving him 50% of the crypto returns last time we met. He says I wouldn’t be getting any return anyway if not for him. He said I wanted to betray him because I requested the money back. He looked at me tonight like he hated me.”

I started to wonder. Did he invite all of us here because he knew Ego wouldn’t have come alone? Was this his way of making sure we’d all share a piece of the blame? A carefully laid trap to build the perfect alibi? The thought twisted in my chest. At that moment, I realized—I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

I pressed my fingers into my palm to keep from trembling. I couldn’t tell anymore if the fear in the room was because of Ego’s death… or because none of us were sure who was pretending.

And I hated myself for thinking this, but suddenly… I wasn’t sure I was innocent either.

At 1 a.m., we drove to a remote site outside Ibadan. The road was empty, the kind of quiet that feels like it's listening. No one spoke.

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We buried her deep in the bush, with all her belongings. Her perfume still lingered on her clothes. I remember placing her phone next to her, like that would somehow give her peace. It didn’t feel like closure. It felt like it was erased.

When it was done, we stood around the shallow grave for a moment too long, waiting for someone to say something. No one did.

We got back at 5 a.m., silent.

We never spoke of it again.

The police questioned us, of course. Asked where we were, what time we left, who saw her last. We told them Ego didn’t come to the party. That she went to church. That she was probably at the vigil.

The story held. Barely.

Mide’s Thought

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