An account has it that the father of four, who was into rentals, had gone to pack some chairs he rented to Celestial Church of Christ, Oshodi Parish, on Olatunji Street at about 8p.m., as the church had celebrated its annual harvest and extended its tents beyond the church’s premises, owing to the crowd that graced the occasion.
As one of the dignitaries, who came with police escort was leaving the venue, some social miscreants (agbero), reportedly accosted him.
In the policeman’s bid to disperse the miscreants, eyewitnesses said he fired some shots, one of which hit Waliu in the head, killing him on the spot.
However, another version of said Waliu was on his way to pack another set of chairs, when the stray bullet from the venue of the church’s programme hit him in front of his house, on Bello Street.
When Vanguard arrived late Waliu’s residence on Bello Street, the bloodstains were still on the spot where he slumped and died, which was over a kilometre away from where the shot was fired.
Sympathizers thronged his abode to commiserate with his widow, Mrs Yemi Daudu, who was seen crying.
Sharing her last moment with her husband, the widow said: “I was in the shop when I saw him on an okada. He said he was going to pack his things, promising to be back. But he never came back.
“Rather, I got a call from someone, who asked where I was. I told the person I was in the shop. The caller asked where was my husband? I told her he had gone to work. She said I should call my husband to know where he was, that she had unpleasant information. I called my husband’s telephone number, but the line didn’t go through.
“Almost immediately, I heard another person making calls in front of my shop. I heard the caller asking the person at the other end if it was that man that rented chairs. At that point, I became scared. I rushed outside and held the man by the shirt, asking what happened. He said we should go to the house. By the time I got home, I met my husband on the ground, dead.
“My husband left me with four children. Tell me, where do I start from? He had great dream for their education. He assured them that he would give them the best of education within his financial limit. He was a quiet and easygoing man.”
At this point, her children— Abeeb, 12; Basita, nine; Basit, six, and Alim two, held their mother, weeping.