Liberia has seen its fair share of mysterious disappearances, but the recent case of Zeopuegar Augustus Reeves is nothing short of a divine intervention story.
It all began on Monday, February 3rd, a regular workday for Reeves. He left for work as usual, but when the evening came, he never made it home. His wife, Angeline Scott Reeves, raised an alarm, reaching out to friends and family in a desperate attempt to trace his whereabouts. Hours turned into days, and panic set in.
By Tuesday, calls were made, prayers were whispered, and fear gripped those closest to him. Where was Zeolo? What could have happened? The search led nowhere.
But then, 82 hours later, on the evening of February 6th, a breakthrough, a call from Madam Esther Gargar Totimeh. Her voice carried both relief and urgency. Zeolo had shown up at her house, weak and speechless. She was nervous, unsure of what to do next, and so she reached out for help.
When his family arrived, Zeolo had regained some strength. His voice was weak, but his story was chilling.
He explained that on Monday evening, after work, he was heading to Boys Town, Marshall to discuss a house plan with a client. Pressed for time, he left his work gadgets at the office and carried only his phones. Since it was rush hour, finding a bike was a challenge.
Just then, a white Jeep pulled up. The driver offered him a ride, as they were heading in his direction. A young woman also hopped in, making it clear that she was only going as far as Duport Road.
Inside the vehicle were two men, calm, collected, and seemingly harmless.
As they approached the Congo Town intersection, the men explained they needed to take a detour to pick up their mechanic. The stop was near the Chinese Embassy, where they waited for a while before the mechanic finally arrived.
When he opened the door, the young woman in the vehicle asked him to enter from the opposite side, as she was getting off soon.
That’s the last thing Zeolo remembers.
When he regained consciousness, he was in a dark, enclosed space, tied and blindfolded. The air was damp, and he suspected he was being kept in a pantry or storage room.
Minutes later, he heard a woman crying. Who was she? What was happening to her? The thought sent chills through him, but he had no answers, only fear.
By Tuesday morning, he overheard a conversation among his captors. One voice, likely the ringleader, told the others:
“Whatever we do to this guy will not serve our purpose.”
An argument broke out, but something, or someone, was at work.
Moments later, he was untied, escorted out of the fence, and taken a short distance away. His captor, still holding a knife, warned him:
“I am releasing you, but if you look back, I will slice you.“
And just like that, he was free.
Wandering in the Shadows of the Unknown
Dazed and confused, Zeolo found himself near the beach, wandering until he spotted a dusty path leading to the main road. He followed it until he reached Madam Esther Totimeh’s house, where his ordeal came to an end.
What happened to Zeolo in those 82 hours? Who were the men in the Jeep? What was their purpose? And what happened to the woman who cried out in the night?
Some questions may never have answers, but one thing remains certain: God showed up.
To those who prayed, called, and stood in the gap, thank you. This is not just a story of survival but a testimony of grace.
Let’s remain vigilant. Stay safe, Liberia.
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