Dr Christian Sunday Udemezue Chinwuba dies.
By Meke Ifejika
It was the eve of valentine of 2013; I had settled for the night then came one of those dreaded late calls. It was Ben calling courtesy of the caller ID. I turned to my better half and rattled, “ I don’t like this call.”
“Sunday nwulu,” (Sunday is dead) came from half shivering and half nervous voice of Ben. I didn’t ask to know where Ben was; in unison we started heading to a townhouse that Sunday was renting south of Burtonsville Maryland. Ben arrived a couple of minutes ahead of me. We arrived didn’t, know what to expect. The blinding police cum coroner flashing lights got me dizzy and disoriented; I didn’t know what questions to ask.Still forming questions in my head before looking for answers; I scanned the area around the entrance to his townhouse trying to make eye contact with the police. The police gave me the fat-chance look because the whole area around his townhouse had become a crime scene temporarily. Meanwhile I was still sitting in my car a safe distance from several police cruisers.
