By Gloria Okezie-Okafor

They were fighting at the corner of the street at the edge of a very big gutter; two kids, not more than 12 and 13, or maybe slightly older - as they often have this smallish looks owing to malnutrition.

On this street, people walked by like nothing was amiss, and carried on with their laughter or private talks. Cars moved in and out of the estate; motorbikes stationed at the estate gate, call out to potential passengers.

These kids fought hard, while their friends stood and watched: each one trying to throw the other into the big gutter. Some of the bike men who were not so keen on picking passengers, amused themselves with the scenery; trying to see who throws the other into the gutter first.

The moment I arrived the spot and was about flagging a tricycle, I realised the madness of the moment, and screaming as hard as I could stopped the two children who were fighting. I immediately ordered them to come before me. Before I arrived, some people were standing at that spot, waiting to board a bus or tricycle; and they acted indifferent to these kids.

Once I had stopped them from their fight and made...