I remember the day I was dragged on Twitter.

It started with a comment. A comment I had innocently dropped on a celebrity’s post that was meant to be a joke but got on the wrong side of her followers and before I knew it the dragging started.

I woke up that day and went about my daily routine. After doing the chores, I got the spicy kulikuli I bought from my nosey neighbor that uses the excuse of selling kulikuli to enter people's houses, gather information and pile it up for her next topic of discussion at the hair salon over the weekend.

I brought out my garri ijebu, added a very chilled water and sat down on the floor in my sitting room to devour my plate of goodness.

I picked up my phone and was scrolling through Facebook when a notification from Twitter popped up.

I'm not as active on Twitter as I am on Facebook and the normal me would have swiped away the notification but a strong devilish spirit clicked the notification with my finger and I met myself in the comments section of a celebrity second wife.

The post was meant to pepper her husband's first wife and I found it amusing especially with the fact that this so called “Apple of his eyes” second madam used to be a maid for the family before the man's wandering eyes landed on her and elevated her position to that of a mini madam, smh.

I don't know if I was in a trance or my village people's Internet connection switched to 5G but I know I wasn't the one that typed the comment that almost cost me my life.

I finished my garri and dropped my phone, dragged myself to the room and slept off like a baby.

I had barely slept for an hour when I heard someone banging on my door. I was pained and hissed loudly because the person didn't allow me to finish the bowl of hot Amala with buka stew I served in my dream.

I dragged my lazy ass to the front door and was surprised to see my husband panting like he was being chased by a dog.

“Arike, what came over you?” I looked at him lost for words because I didn't even know what he was talking about.

“Where's your phone?” He asked again before I could process an answer to his first question.

I went inside the room to pick my phone and met 37 missed calls from my parents, siblings, friends and my husband.

Ah, mogbe. I turned to my husband and asked him what happened but my phone started ringing before he could respond.

It was a call from my sister in Port Harcourt.

“Sister min, ekasan ma” I greeted her but what she said next left me dazed.

“You're being dragged on Twitter and the angry mobs are threatening to burn you down with your family”. I started laughing at her words because why would anyone drag me? I've always belonged to the post and comment readers association.

I unlocked my phone and notifications from Twitter started pouring in.

“We'll track you down and burn you to death”

“If dem never pkain one commenter the rest no go rest”

“You dey there dey yab person wey fit feed your entire generation conveniently”

I looked at my husband and asked if someone hacked my account. He looked at me, hissed and sat down on the bed dialing a number on his phone.

I opened my Twitter account and saw the comment I was being dragged for and I could swear with my life I didn't type that comment.

“Babe, no be type this comment o. E be like sey person don hack my account”.

My husband was about to reply when we started hearing voices and loud bangs on our door.

“Open this door o, elenu razor”

“Your own don spill today, aswear”

“Bring fuel make we burn the house if she no gree come out”

My husband looked at me with tears in his eyes, opened the door and pushed me out into the waiting hands of the mob.

I closed my eyes and was expecting the beating but none came. I started hearing my name and the angry mobs voices was fading, I opened my eyes and standing right there in front of me was my husband.

I jumped up, started crying and begging him,

“Babe, please help me. Don't let them take me away”

My husband looked at me, shook his head and hissed lightly.

“Abeg stand up come take your Malaria medicine make I dey go work”

That was when it clicked, I had been dreaming.