14/06/2026
Solomon was the only child of his parents. Their pride. Their hope. He never joked about w∆r. "If I don't stand," he once said, "who will?"
Before the atta¢k, he stepped aside and pulled out his phone. The signal was weak, but it connected. His mother picked up on the first ring.
"Solomon… my son…" her voice trembled.
"Mama," he said softly, "I just wanted to hear you."
"Are you safe?" she asked.
He looked around the darkness, the distant sounds of movement. He closed his eyes.
"Yes, Mama," he lied. "I'm safe."
"My son, come back to me," she whispered. "You are all I have."
His voice cracked. "And you are all I have too, Mama."
She prayed over the phone. He listened like a child again. When she finished, she said, "God will bring you back."
Solomon swallowed hard. "Mama… if I don't"
"Don't say that!" she cried.
He forced a small smile. "I will call you again. I promise."
Those were his last words to her.
Then the night broke open. Gvnfire. Expløsions. Chaøs. Solomon fought like a man who knew what was waiting for him at home.
Then a single shøt. Sharp and final.
He staggered. Saπk to his knees. I caught him before he hit the ground.
His eyes searched the darkness. But he wasn't looking at the battlefield anymore.
"Mama…" he whispered.
And then… silence.
The battle ended. But for one mother, the w∆r had just begun.
Back home, she still waits. Staring at the road. Phone always close. Hoping he will call again and say, "Mama… I'm safe."
Some heroes are remembered in history. Some are only remembered by the hearts they left behind. 💔
If this touched you, pray for Solomon. Never take that call from your loved ones for granted.
Rest in peace, soldier. 🥹🫡
REST IN PEACE SOLOMON
Nigeria happened to you 😭
