I Thought It Was Just Rain—Until the Call Came from Nowhere

Two months ago, during one of the heaviest rainstorms Lagos had seen in years, I realized that Survival, Prepping & Outdoors wasn’t just content for my blog. It was real life.

That night, power was gone. Network was shaky. The sky looked like it was angry with the city.

I had just finished reorganizing my bug-out bag when my phone buzzed.

“Guy, abeg, are you home?”
It was Tunde, my childhood friend who always laughed at my prepping habits.

“You finally decided to respect emergency preparedness?” I replied.

“Bro… I’m stranded. Third Mainland is flooding. My car just died. I see people climbing bridges like zombies in a movie.”

That was when my survival instincts kicked in.

I grabbed my flashlight, rain jacket, multitool, power bank, and emergency poncho. Ten years of outdoor survival experience had taught me one thing: when panic spreads, preparation becomes power.

I told him, “Drop your location. Don’t move. Keep your doors locked.”

As I stepped outside, rain slapped my face like punishment. The street was already turning into a river. I moved carefully, boots gripping the wet asphalt. This wasn’t camping. This was urban survival.

On the way, I passed people arguing, shouting, crying. Someone yelled,
“NEPA no light, rain wan kill us, God abeg oh!”

When I reached his car, he was soaked, shivering.

He looked at my backpack and laughed weakly.
“See Bear Grylls.”

I replied, “Laugh now. You’ll thank me later.”

I gave him a thermal blanket. He froze.

“Where did this even come from?”

“Emergency shelter gear. You used to call it paranoia.”

Water was rising fast. We couldn’t stay there. We needed to move to higher ground.

We abandoned the car.

As we walked, I used my headlamp to scan for broken glass and open gutters. I handed him my spare rain poncho.

“Rule number one of survival: stay dry and stay calm.”

He nodded. No jokes this time.

We entered a half-flooded street. A small crowd was gathered around a fallen electric pole. Sparks flashed in the water.

A woman cried, “My son is inside that house!”

I looked at Tunde.
“This is where outdoor survival training becomes real.”

I tied my rope around a metal fence and told him to anchor it. Slowly, I moved through the water, avoiding exposed cables. My heart was beating loud like a drum.

I reached the door and knocked.
“Anybody inside?”

A small voice replied, “Yes!”

I guided the boy using the rope. When he got out, people cheered like we were in a Nollywood movie.

That moment alone could power a thousand survival stories.

As the rain slowed, we found shelter under a closed shop.

Tunde finally spoke quietly:
“Bro… I used to think prepping was for crazy people on YouTube.”

I smiled.
“Survival prepping is just self-respect. You prepare because you don’t know what tomorrow will throw.”

He nodded slowly.

Then his phone rang.

He picked up and his face changed.

“Wait… what?”

He turned to me.
“My sister just called. She said our house is fine. No flooding. No blackout. She said I left home hours ago and never came back.”

I froze.

“What do you mean?”

He looked confused.
“Bro… I was never supposed to be on Third Mainland. I left to come meet you at your place.”

We both went silent.

Then I checked my own phone.

No missed calls.
No earlier message.
No initial text from him.

My stomach dropped.

“Tunde… I didn’t receive any message from you today.”

He stared at me.
“Then who did I call?”

We replayed everything. The call. The location. The panic. The rescue.

Nothing made sense.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated.

Unknown Number.

The message said:

You were prepared. That’s why it worked.

No emoji. No name. Just that.

I showed him.

We both stared at the screen like it was about to breathe.

Since that night, I stopped seeing Survival, Prepping & Outdoors as just SEO keywords like:

• survival gear
• emergency preparedness
• bug-out bag essentials
• outdoor survival skills
• disaster readiness
• off-grid survival
• urban prepping

Now they feel like spiritual insurance.

Sometimes, preparation isn’t about fear.
Sometimes, it’s about being ready for things that don’t even exist yet.

Tunde now owns:

• A first aid kit
• A flashlight
• A power bank
• A fire starter
• And a small emergency food stash

He told me yesterday:

“Even if that night was weird… I’d rather be weird and ready than normal and helpless.”

Same.

Because in this life, survival isn’t always about strength.
Sometimes, it’s about being the one who packed a bag when everyone else laughed.