Our Landlord Died Last Month — But I Think His Ghost Still Walks the Compound at Night
Our landlord, Pa Alabi, was strict but respectful. He didn’t talk much, but he always checked the taps, locked the gates, and sat outside every evening with his radio. When he passed away last month, the entire compound felt empty. Everyone attended his burial. We thought that was the end of his story.
We were wrong.
It started with small things. The security light would switch on by itself around 2AM. Footsteps — slow, dragging — echo around the compound even though no one is outside. A few tenants said they heard keys jingling like he used to carry.
But the real fear started last Friday.
Mrs. Efe in Flat 3 woke up around 3AM to fetch water. She swears she saw Pa Alabi sitting on his old plastic chair by the gate, holding his radio — just like he used to when he was alive. She screamed. Everyone rushed out. The chair was there… warm. But no one was sitting on it.
Now some people are packing out. Others say his spirit is restless because his children are fighting over his property.
As for me, I now sleep with my Bible under my pillow. Because no matter how many times I convince myself it’s all in my head.
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