“Soja!” The officer shouted, and Mawu, still aiming at the old man, lowered his head, but the Commandant caught it between his palms and held it up firmly.”No! look at your victory. An infidel’s life is not worth anything,” he told him with firm reassurance.

But Mawu’s eyes were shut, he didn’t look. He couldn’t look. All he could see was Ladan’s face as they parted. His life would never be the same if he did this.

Mawu was shaking so hard the rifle was rattling. The harder he gripped it the more the rifle slid from his sweaty hands.

From behind, Usuman saw the officer crook his finger in a secret code and he raised his rifle in aim ready to kill Mawu.

The officer moved closer to Mawu, his mouth only inches away from his ear and screamed with a sense of finality. “Shoot soja!”

Suddenly a single shot rang out in the silence of the afternoon. The old man crumpled to the ground in a heap, dead before he hit the ground.