The Cocaine Deal

THE following months were the most difficult and harrowing Eric had experienced since he joined the force. The delay in the payment of salaries went from the third to the fourth month and then to the fifth. Officers began to go berserk. Some resorted to selling household belongings to keep body and soul together. Even those who were notorious in collecting bribes at checkpoints could no longer do so because the IG had activated a police Special Monitoring Unit (SMU) to apprehend any officer found collecting such bribes. Eric, who had decided to go against his principles in order to cater for his immediate needs, was almost caught by officers of the SMU the very first day he went to a checkpoint with the intention of collecting bribes from motorists. After the barrage of questions and threats from these officers, he told himself he would never again indulge in the act. Even Umaru, who was slowly drawing from his bank account, soon ran out of cash and announced to the young corporal that he was broke. To make matters worse, Rose came home the following weekend with a very cheerless news. She was now in the second semester of her first year.

‘The lecturers in my department have all come to a unanimous decision that henceforth, submission of assignments via textbooks will earn the student fifty per cent of the entire semester’s grade,’ she told Eric.

‘And what does that mean?’ he asked.

‘It means whenever you want to submit your assignment, you have to insert it into the textbook for that particular course before submitting it. After the assignment has been marked,  you take back your textbook.’

It was now Eric saw the implication. ‘That means you will need to buy the textbook before you can submit the assignment.’

‘Yes,’ Rose nodded. ‘Actually, it’s not a new thing. But the per cent has always been just five or a little over five and it could be overlooked. With this new regulation, you will need to buy the textbook or you carry the course over. And you know that I have bought just two out of the fifteen textbooks for this semester.’

‘This is serious.’ Eric was at a loss of what to do. He had been waiting for the salary to be paid so he could buy the remaining textbooks as well as meet Rose’s other financial demands. Rose would be going back to the campus the following day and all he had to give her was barely enough to cover her feeding. Even the money to type her assignments was not there. Something had to be done, of that he was sure. But what?

‘What are we going to do?’ Rose asked.

‘For now, I don’t know. There is no one to borrow from because everyone is broke. Even Umaru, who has always helped out, is himself looking for someone to borrow from. Maybe I’ll just have to sell the TV and the shelf.’

‘You can’t do that,’ Rose said. ‘Besides, the money from their sales would not even go halfway.’

‘It’s the only thing to do for now.’ From the worried look on her face, Eric could tell she was just as anxious as he was but only trying to hide it. ‘You don’t need to worry. I’ll get all the money you need. I am a police officer or have you forgotten?’

‘But I don’t want you to get involved in all those bad things the others are doing,’ she told him.

Eric wanted to tell her about his ordeals in the hands of men of the SMU but decided against it. It could make her suspect him all the more. That evening, he went to the different tokumbo shops where fairly used furniture items were bought and sold. But none of them was ready to buy a TV set or a shelf.

‘Sorry sir, we are no longer buying. We have too many in stock and we want to sell off the ones we have first before we stock new ones.’

‘No sir, bring them next month.’

‘Sorry, we don’t buy televisions and shelves.’

That night, it was a tired and frustrated Eric that came walking up to the door of his house. He was about to knock but stopped when he heard a disturbing sound coming from the inside. It was Rose and from the sound of it, she was weeping loudly and bitterly.

‘Oh God, please help me,’ Eric could hear her saying in a tearful voice. ‘Please, help us. I don’t know what to do. I am so helpless. How am I ever going to get out of this dilemma? Please, help me, help us…’

That broke Eric’s heart. He was always uncomfortable at the sight of Rose’s tears. It took him some time before he was able to take hold of himself and then knocked on the door. The weeping from inside stopped immediately. He could hear the rustling sound of clothes and concluded she was probably drying her eyes. He was not far from the truth because when Rose opened the door, her face was dry even though the swollen eyes were enough to give her away.

‘You are back?’ she said, trying to pull a smile. ‘How did it go?’

He did not reply her but gently took her arm and led her to one of the sofas in the room. ‘I heard everything,’ he told her.

‘Heard everything? What did you hear?’ There was a strange ring of fear around her eyes. It was something Eric had begun to notice of late and he wondered why she should be so agitated over a problem that was squarely his.

‘Rose, please don’t cry anymore. I have told you not to worry; I’ll make sure everything is alright at the end of the day. You will buy your textbooks. All your school demands will be met. I have never disappointed you before, have I? What makes you think I will disappoint you this time?’

‘Eric, it’s not the textbooks. It’s not the fees. It’s…it’s…’ She broke down and began to weep afresh.

‘Don’t worry.’ Eric held her to himself. ‘I know you will not agree because you don’t want to hurt my feelings. But I know. And all these tears are silently killing me. You know I cannot stand to see you cry. It makes me want to cry.’

He managed to calm her down. But as they lay on the bed that night and Rose had slept off, Eric could not help revisiting Oldso’s proposal. He found himself weighing the options. What were the risk factors? Oldso was untouchable and everyone knew this. Even Umaru had told him that much. If the kingpin was untouchable because he was connected to the powers that be, did it not mean that those working for him would also be untouchable? If in the course of carrying out the illegal assignment, something went wrong, would the mention of Oldso’s name not let one free? He told himself the danger with Oldso was actually you working against him, not you working for him. So, what if he decided to do the runs for Oldso once, just once? That consignment was worth fifteen million. Twenty per cent of that was a whopping three million. With that kind of money, all his problems were over. He would be able to pay Rose’s fees up to her final year and still have some left to live a stable life. So, what if he worked for Oldso once? And in any case, the delayed salary would eventually be paid sooner or later and life would go back to normal.  Before he managed to sleep that night, Eric was convinced of what to do.

As soon as Rose had gone back to the campus of The university the following morning, he brought out his phone and dialled Oldso’s number.

‘That you Eric?’ Oldso’s voice was calm and cool from the other end.

‘Yes sir. Good morning sir.’

‘New Year in August! Why did it take you so long to call back? And all this while, you stopped picking my calls.’

‘My official duties,’ Eric told him. ‘I was kept too busy.’

‘So, have you made up your mind at last?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘So, when am I expecting you?’

‘I will be on duty from now till 6pm. When I am done, I will come over.’

‘Alright.’ Oldso paused. ‘When you are coming, please remember to come in your uniform. It could be helpful.’

‘Okay sir.’

Fortunately for Eric, he was not sent out on patrol that day. But he could not stop thinking over Oldso and the illicit assignment. He tried as much as he could to avoid Umaru for fear that he might give himself away. Umaru had a way of looking at you with deep probing eyes that seemed to get information from you even before you opened your mouth to speak. It was an effective means of getting the truth out of criminals. Eric did not want the DSP to get the slightest inkling of the decision he had taken concerning Oldso and the cocaine deal.

That evening, as Eric walked through the short drive from the gate of Oldso’s mansion to the main building, he was for the first time unconscious of the environs and the beauty they exuded. His mind was far too busy to accommodate that kind of thought. Oldso was as usual at the balcony. He was seated before a table and the usual bottle of foreign whiskey was on the table in front of him. Eric wondered if he ever got tired of whiskey.

‘Welcome, welcome,’ he said when Eric came in. ‘Please, have a seat and help yourself.’ He pointed at the bottle.

Eric took the offered seat but declined that of the drink. ‘Please, can we get started?’ he asked.

Oldso laughed. ‘At first, he did not want to get involved but now, he cannot wait to get on the beat.’ He took a sip from the glass. ‘You know what, Eric? If not for the fact that I know you very well, I would have been suspicious at your sudden change of mind and the urgency I now see in you.’

‘I have a host of financial responsibilities hanging on my shoulders,’ Eric replied. ‘The earlier we get it done with, the better.’

‘I see.’ Oldso nodded in an apparent show of understanding. Raising his voice, he called, ‘Absalom!’

Almost immediately, the servant came in with a briefcase which he placed on the table, beside the bottle of whiskey.

‘This briefcase is different from the one I saw the other day.’ Eric was beginning to get suspicious. But Oldso’s next words put his mind at ease.

‘Quite observant of you,’ Oldso said. ‘That particular consignment has already been disposed of and the agent is now richer by three million. That money would have been in your account by now if you were not slow in making up your mind. But not to worry.’ He was opening the briefcase as he was speaking. The lid snapped open and he pushed it across to Eric. ‘See? This one is even better than the first one. This coke is worth twenty-five  million.’

‘And it goes with the same commission?’

‘Yes of course. Our commission is fixed irrespective of the amount of the cache.’

Eric did a quick mental calculation. Twenty per cent of twenty-five  million was five million. That was enough to put an end to all his financial challenges. If there was one consolation he got for going out of his way to indulge in such a criminal activity, it was the fact that he was doing it to protect his future with Rose. Five million naira was enough to do that. He told himself no sacrifice was too much for the girl for whom he had left family and friends. And if engaging in a criminal activity once was what it would take to do that, he felt no qualms about it. 

Oldso brought out what looked like an inner waterproof wear and carefully arranged the sachets of cocaine powder into it. Eric pulled off his uniform and, with the help of the other, tied the consignment round his body. Then he wore his uniform on top of it. It made him feel somewhat heavy and awkward but he did not mind. Five million naira was worth any kind of discomfort that came his way.

‘You will go with the empty briefcase,’ Oldso told him.

‘Why?’

‘As a decoy in case any overzealous officer at a checkpoint gets suspicious. Though I don’t see that happening. You are a well known face here and I don’t think anyone would want to embarrass you with a search. Another reason is that you will use it to repackage it for the buyer when she comes.’

‘She?’ Eric was surprised. ‘You already have a buyer?’

For a moment, Oldso looked like he had been caught off guard. But he got himself back immediately. ‘Well, we are actually discussing with a lady even though she has not yet made up her mind,’ he told Eric. ‘That means you will soon be relieved of the stuff and your bank account will become heavier.’

Eric wanted to ask why the lady could not come to Oldso’s house to take delivery of the cocaine herself if they were already negotiating with her but the thought of the five million naira commission made him think otherwise. He did not want Oldso to change his mind.

‘She cannot come here Eric because she does not have the protection of a uniform like you do,’ Oldso said, looking directly into his eyes.

Eric was stupefied. How did the older man come to know what was going on in his mind? It was now he began to understand what Umaru had always told him, that every professional criminal was a psychologist and one had to be very smart when dealing with them.

‘I understand,’ he told Oldso. ‘And when am I getting my pay? Is it from source or you will make a transfer after collecting from the buyer?’

Oldso smiled. ‘Now, you are talking like a pro. But don’t you worry. Oldso is a business man to the core. He will not double cross you. You will get your commission from source. The buyer will be notified and he or she will give you your own cut as soon as they come to take delivery of the stuff.’

‘That arrangement is okay with me.’ Eric took up the empty briefcase and made to leave.

‘One more thing Eric,’ Oldso said, stopping the other in his tracks. ‘You are a smart police officer. That’s why I picked you in the first place. I like to work with smart people so long as they don’t get smarter than themselves. You see, my clients are people with whom I have been dealing for years. They have come to trust me. So, when I tell them there is  a certain gram of coke in a particular consignment, they believe me because that is the truth. So, they make an advance payment before coming to collect it. Imagine what would happen if after paying the advance, they come to you and for some reason, you are unable to deliver the consignment to them.’

‘But why would that happen?’ Eric was at a loss. ‘Why would I not give it to them?’

Oldso did not answer him immediately. Instead, he dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a photograph. ‘Some time ago,’ he told Eric, ‘I had a fellow who worked for me. Just like you: smart and intelligent. Unfortunately, he got smarter than himself and attempted to double cross me. Here is what became of him.’ He gave the photograph to Eric.

Eric took a look and flinched in horror. Despite all his expeditions against men of the underworld, he had never seen a more gory sight. It was the photograph of a man hacked to pieces. The bloody limbs were stacked together with the head placed on top of the heap.

‘You mean… you mean you did this to a fellow human being?’ he found his voice at last.

‘Eric, you are smart. Please, don’t get smarter than yourself. Be sure to deliver the consignment to the buyer when she comes to collect it. You may take your leave.’

Eric gave him back the photograph and left. It was now he really began to dread Oldso and company. The picture in that photograph kept coming up his mind again and again as he left the compound and went to a nearby junction to wait for a taxi. He felt uncomfortably heavy as he walked with the weight of the cocaine. Soon, a cab came along and he boarded. Contrary to his fear of a possible stop-and-search encounter at a checkpoint, the ride was uneventful. He found himself silently thanking the IG for coming up with the SMU initiative. Ever since the operation was activated, the city highways had been witnessing a drastic reduction in the number of checkpoints, most of which were illegal anyway. 

It was almost midnight when he eventually got home. He carefully unpacked the sachets of cocaine from the inner wear and repacked them into the briefcase. Then he went to the bedroom. He had already created an opening on the ceiling before he left for work that day. Through this opening, he put the briefcase on top of the ceiling and closed the opening. It was so neatly done that not even Rose could detect there was anything hidden there.

Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?

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The Robbery At Ikorodu Roundabout

THE crowd was a thick surging mass at the gate of the Mainland police station. The gate had been locked to prevent them from coming inside, yet they still came pushing forwards, trying to get a glimpse of the drama going on inside the station’s premises. The officers of the station had tried in vain to disperse them and now the crowd was such that traffic on the expressway, along which the Mainland Division was located, was at a standstill. They had come to witness the end of Badiyo and gang, a band of notorious armed robbers that, for months, had terrorised residents of the city. So brazen and devilish was Badiyo that his infamy had spread not just within the city but across the entire country. His specialty was robbing banks and dispossessing people of their exotic cars. He was also notorious for killing police officers whenever his gang spotted them in any of their operations. Most Officers lived in dread of him and comedians often cracked jokes of how police men and women ran for cover whenever kids in play shouted ‘Badiyo is here! Badiyo is here!’. The media was awash with unsavoury comments and editorials on the need to overhaul the security architecture of the country and often called for the resignation of Usman Yisa, the police IG, if he did not have what it took to catch Badiyo and gang and bring the reign of the daredevils to an end.

Now the kingpin had been reined in and the jubilant crowd had come to see the end of the one who had made them have sleepless nights. They jeered and booed while some, who were directly affected by Badiyo’s criminal exploits, rained curses on him and the day he was born. Some even tried to pelt him with stones but were stopped with the threat of being tear-gassed out of the station’s premises.

All of a sudden, the sound of a siren could be heard blaring from the distance. The sound grew louder and louder until it became obvious a convoy of cars was coming towards the direction of the police station. Vehicles stuck in the traffic were now forced to clear off the main expressway into the service lane in order to make way for the convoy. A team of officers came to the gate, opened it and began to clear the crowd. Soon, a way was made and a black Mercedes jeep slowly rolled into the station, closely followed by two police patrol vans. Even as the vehicles were coming in, the Divisional Police Officer of the Mainland Division, Superintendent Adeola Disu, had come out of his office and was waiting for his boss near the entrance of the station. The state’s Commissioner of Police, CP Clement Agbaje, had earlier called him to say he was coming to the Mainland Division to get an on-the-spot briefing of the arrest. To the DPO, this was a great honour. Normally, the captured robbers were expected to be taken to the state command headquarters where the CP had his office but an elated Agbaje was so excited about the capture of Badiyo and his boys that he broke protocols. He wanted to see the captured bandits as well as the officers that recorded the feat.

‘Good afternoon sir.’ Superintendent Adeola saluted as the CP alighted from the jeep.

‘Congratulations,’ the other said, taking his hand in a warm handshake.

‘Congratulations sir,’ Adeola replied as he led his boss to a police van, parked at a corner of the compound, where Badiyo and his men were lying in a pool of their own blood.

Three of the armed robbers were lying motionless at the far end of the van. It was obvious they were dead. The fourth one seemed to have suffered severe injuries and was writhing in agonized pains. Badiyo himself had a bullet wound on his left lap but he was fully conscious and so was in handcuffs. A triumphant smile came up the CP’s face as he beheld the man who, for several months, had been on the Most Wanted list of the NPF. Unconsciously, his hand went up to caress the reddish scar on his left cheek as his mind went to that horrible night when this same criminal nearly snuffed life out of him in a dare-devil, unprovoked attack on his convoy. But for the special training he had taken in the UK on combatant defence, he would have been a dead man by now.

‘So, we got you at last,’ he addressed the handcuffed kingpin. ‘Now, you will learn the bitter lesson. You will learn that no matter how notorious or hardened you think you are, the long arm of the law will eventually catch up with you.’

Badiyo had been looking at an imaginary object on the floor but now, he turned to look up at the one person he had always wanted dead. The hatred flickering in his eyes was unmistakeable as he spat in the direction of the CP and then followed with, ‘Bastard!’

The officers around the CP were irked by this; before Agbaje could stop him, one of them raised his baton and hit Badiyo across the face. It was a smashing blow and Badiyo recoiled in agony at the impact. His lips were broken and fresh blood went down his cuffed hands as he tried to soothe the pain. The crowd at the gate cheered wildly at the officer’s action.

‘Don’t hit him again,’ Agbaje told the officers. ‘He will have his day in court. And then, he will go where his type have gone.’

With that, he followed Superintendent Adeola and both men went to the DPO’s office, located behind the station’s main building. As soon as they were seated, Agbaje made known to the DPO why he decided to come and see things for himself. 

‘I want to use this visit to commend you and the officers under your division for a job well done,’ he Told Adeola. ‘I also want to meet the gallant officers that did the job, to have a first-hand discussion with them. That’s why I decided to come even without the PPRO.’

‘I am grateful for the visit sir,’ his host replied. ‘It will serve as a further boost to the morale of the officers in the division. As for the officer that captured Badiyo, I’ll send for him in a minute.’

‘Wait a minute,’ the CP said. ‘You mean it was just one officer that captured him?’

‘Yes sir. Even though there were actually five of them at the scene of the robbery incident, it was one of them that accomplished the feat. I’ll call him so that you can hear the story from his own mouth.’

‘This is incredible!’ Agbaje said.

‘Incredible but true. And that’s the most incredible part of it, the fact that it is true. And this is the same officer I have been telling you of, the one who has been instrumental in the success stories this division has been recording in recent times.’

The DPO ordered his secretary to call Corporal Eric Gboneme. Eric was at the officers’ mess, located at the back of the station’s main building, narrating his encounter with Badiyo and gang to a group of wide-eyed officers, when the secretary came to fetch him. They were soon in the DPO’s office and Eric was standing before the Number One police officer in the state. It was the first time Eric was meeting the CP. The Police Public Relations Officer (PPRO) was the one that had always attended to him whenever a sensational arrest was made by his team. It was thus a rare privilege to stand before the much revered Commissioner of Police.

‘Good afternoon sir,’ he saluted.

‘How are you my boy?’ Agbaje ignored the salute and took his hand in a handshake. ‘You have made the force proud today. Come and sit beside me. I want to hear the entire story before you brief the PPRO. Come and sit here.’ He indicated a space beside him on the couch.

Eric hesitated. ‘You want me to sit there sir?’ He pointed.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ Agbaje told him with a fatherly smile. ‘Haven’t you heard that when a child washes his hands clean, he can eat with kings? You have washed your hands clean; you will now dine with kings.’

‘Thank you sir,’ Eric said and hesitantly took the offered seat.

‘Now, tell me the story. I want to know how one officer, just one officer, was able to round up such a notorious kingpin as Badiyo and his boys.’

‘Sir, I was actually not the only one involved in the operation. At about 1200 hours, I and my team were at a roadblock near Ikorodu roundabout when we got a distress call that armed robbers were at a nearby junction, robbing a bank. There were five of us: three constables, myself and one inspector who was leading the team. We immediately mobilised and drove towards the junction. But the road was blocked by empty vehicles. The drivers and passengers had abandoned them and fled into nearby compounds for safety. So, we alighted from the van and began to sneak towards the premises of the bank where the robbery was taking place.

‘It was from the people fleeing past us that we got to know that it was Badiyo and his boys. And as soon as they heard this and also heard the sound of gunshots coming out from the bank’s premises, the three constables suddenly developed cold feet. Before we knew what was happening, they had pulled off their uniform and were running for cover with the rest of the people. When I tried to stop the third officer from running, he asked me if I could not hear the gunshots, that they were not coming from ordinary rifles but automatic SMGs. He said he had a wife and three children and did not want to die and leave them to an uncertain future.

‘So, it was now only me and the inspector. We called for reinforcement but realising  that before it could come, Badiyo and his boys would have made a success of the robbery and escaped, we decided to attack them even though we were outnumbered in terms of weapons and personnel. By now, we were before the bank, behind a parked car in front of the compound. One of the robbers was standing on the bonnet of a car in the compound, releasing bullets into the air and shouting “This is Badiyo! This is Badiyo!”. Everywhere had been deserted save for the abandoned vehicles along the road. Other members of the gang were moving cartons of money from the bank into some motor bikes parked by the side of the compound. It was obvious they intended to escape with these bikes as there was no way they could drive a car through the main road.

‘Now, there was only one strategy we could use to win the day: bring down the man standing on the bonnet, engage the others inside the bank and keep them busy until reinforcement comes. But there was no way we could take a perfect aim at the one on the bonnet from our present position. So, I told the inspector to provide me with a cover so I could move to a position where I could take the aim. He obliged and in the next minutes, the air was rented with the sound of shots and counter shots between the robber and the inspector. I quickly took advantage of the cover and dashed to another part of the compound from where I took a careful aim at the man. The bullet got him on the chest and he fell down and gave up the ghost immediately. This got the attention of the men inside the bank. One of them came out and began to fire at the very point from which I had taken the shot. But I was no longer there. I had rolled under another car behind which I now took a shot at the man. I got him on the head and he, too, fell down dead.

‘It was at this point that the inspector made the mistake that cost him his life. Maybe he ran out of bullets. Or, seeing two of the men had been felled and probably thinking it was over for the gang, he rushed forward to snatch the SMG from the one who had fallen from the bonnet. He got to the man and was at the point of taking the gun when Badiyo himself rushed out and shot him dead. While Badiyo was at this, I engaged two other members of the gang who were coming from behind him. I got one of them on the head and he dropped dead. The second man was luckier; he did not die but got the bullets in his stomach and thighs. At that point, luck ran out on Badiyo because his gun ran out of bullets. Cursing under his breath, he threw it away and made straight for the gun of one of the felled men behind him. But I did not allow him to get that near. I shot him on his hand and, while he was still writhing in pain, I shot him on the lap and he fell down. I could have finished him there and then but knowing you would prefer him captured alive, I merely disabled him. At that moment, reinforcement came. Badiyo was handcuffed, together with the other wounded member, while the remains of the three dead robbers were carried into the police van. The dead inspector was taken to the command hospital. That was how it all happened sir. But permit me to say that if those three constables had not deserted us at that crucial time, we probably would not have lost that brave inspector.’

For a while, after Eric was through with his narration, there was silence in the office. The CP did not know what to say next. He now came to agree with the DPO that the most incredible part of the whole thing was that it was true.

‘Sir, you now see why I told you that even though there were five officers involved, it was actually one that did the job?’ Adeola said when Eric had gone out of the office.

‘You are right,’ Agbaje agreed. ‘As an officer who rose through the rank and file, I have been involved in many action operations but never have I been faced with such odds and still came out without a scratch. And this is the same officer who, even when he was just a constable, played a major role in the capture of Baba Lafe, Lamidi and Oscar the Terror?’

‘The same person. And those are the ones you know about. There are others which were too minor to be brought to the notice of headquarters. Even as a corporal, he has inspired his team to victory on many occasions despite the fact that there were senior officers in those teams.’

‘I think the rank of a corporal is too small for such an officer,’ the CP said. ‘If he can do all these at this level, imagine what he would do if he is made to lead a particular unit. Imagine the inspiration he would bring to the officers under him.’

‘Sir, that was what I wanted to say next. You know I brought up the issue of his promotion twice before. But it did not see the light of day. He has put in eight years of meritorious service and yet, he is still a corporal. Seeing how intelligent he is, I used my personal resources to enrol him for the Detective Course. He wrote the exam and came out with flying colours. Yet, he was not promoted to the rank of a sergeant which that course attracts but was retained as a corporal.’

‘The memo for his promotion stopped at the desk of the AIG,’ the other agreed. ‘But this time, I will by-pass the AIG and speak to the IG myself. As soon as I get home this evening, I’ll call him on his personal line and bring the matter before him. I think it is better if it is brought as an unofficial, informal discussion.’

‘If he can be promoted, it would help a lot in boosting his morale and those of other officers here because they would know that there is a reward that awaits them if they work hard,’ Adeola was not ready to let go of that angle of the discussion. ‘Already, I hear he is being mocked and taunted that, despite all his exploits for the NPF, he is still a corporal while most of his course mates are now sergeants and inspectors. This officer deserves double promotion if it is possible. Besides, he stays in a face-me-I-face-you one room in Bariga, where he is exposed. Someone like him, who has become a household name and a terror to the men of the underworld, deserves to live in a more secure environment.’

‘By the way, I hear there is a myth about him being invincible,’ the CP said.

‘Yes, I think it’s because of the fact that he has never sustained any injury in all those operations. And I am also sure that’s why they have not yet gone to attack him in that unsafe area where he resides. But just like you said, it’s only a myth and one of these days, one of those robbers would want to test the truth of that rumour. The earlier he moves into a more secure environment, the better.’

‘The accommodation part will be sorted out as soon as the new barracks are ready,’ Agbaje said.

‘Will they ever be ready?’ the DPO scoffed mildly. 

The CP shrugged helplessly. He could detect the sarcasm in the other’s voice but felt it was justified. The new barracks project had been on for many years and had passed through several IGs, with annual budgetary provisions allocated to it. But the project had remained a work in progress. The media had lately begun to accuse officials of the police service commission of corruptly diverting funds meant for the project into their private pockets.  

‘Don’t worry,’ the CP found his voice at last. ‘I’ll talk to the IG this evening. Call me around 8pm. By then, I will have spoken with him. Meanwhile, take the gang to headquarters. And as soon as the PPRO is ready, bring the young man along with you for the media briefing. He deserves a space in the media for his courage and bravery. As for the officers who deserted their duty post at that critical time, send their names to headquarters for the appropriate disciplinary measures.’

Soon after, the CP rose to leave.

Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?

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A Cold Reception In The Church

                

WHEN neither counselling nor scolding nor even beating could make Eric stop seeing Rose, Uncle Sam decided to adopt another approach. One day, he called Eric into his house and asked him to invite the girl to church. He reasoned that if Rose could start attending church and gave her life to Christ, it would be easier to make her stop her sinful conducts, including her unwholesome relationship with Eric. The man of God had to make that decision in view of the dilemma he suddenly found himself. The news of Eric’s  relationship with Rose had now spread round the entire village and elders of the church were coming to him to complain of the ugly development. The church council had also met over the issue, telling him that if something urgent was not done about it, it could soon drag the name of the Believers Church of God in the mud and people would start leaving the church. But Uncle Sam could not bring himself to excommunicate Eric from the church. And it was not because Eric was his nephew. He believed that chasing people away from the house of God, on account of their wrongdoings, would do more damage than good to their spiritual life because it could push them permanently into Satan’s kingdom.

Eric was too thrilled for words when his uncle laid the proposition before him. ‘You mean I should invite Rose to church?’ he asked in disbelief.

‘Yes,’ Uncle Sam reaffirmed. ‘Remember every Christian is an evangelist, vested with the task of bringing people into the Kingdom. So, bring her to church.’

Eric was full of hope and expectation as he took the good news to Rose that evening. If Uncle Sam was eager to have Rose become a member of the Believers Church of God, it could only mean that his mother had given up the fight and had handed everything over to the man of God. With time, he thought, Uncle Sam might come to like Rose and accept her into the family. 

But, to Eric’s surprise, Rose declined the invitation to the Believers Church of God. ‘Have you forgotten what I once told you, that I am a Catholic?’ she asked Eric. ‘I would have started attending the parish in this village but my Mum says I should wait for all these rumours to clear off.’

‘But that should not be a problem.’ Eric’s voice betrayed his disappointment. ‘Can’t you see it would bring you closer to my people, which would make it easier for them to accept our relationship?’

‘Once a Catholic is always a Catholic,’ Rose told him. ‘It is impossible for me to change from a Catholic church to a Pentecostal church.’

‘Just regard it as a sacrifice to save our relationship.’

‘What about you: can you do the same? Can you leave that church and come to join me in the Catholic?’

‘Of course, you know there is nothing I would not do for you. If it was the other way round and I had the choice of coming over to join you so that your family can accept me, I would gladly do it. But that’s not the case with this situation.’

They argued late into the night and by the time Eric left, Rose had agreed to come to the Believers Church of God on the condition that he, too, would come to her Catholic church to worship once in a while. But, as fate would have it, the very Sunday that Rose came to the church, Uncle Sam was away on a missionary journey to Abudu, a nearby town. The assistant senior pastor, Pastor John Ukadike, was in charge of the service that day. 

As Eric walked into the church with Rose, he was conscious of the disapproving eyes with which the members were looking at them. Fingers were pointing; mouths were whispering into ears. But he did not mind. The fact that Rose was at last in his church and everything would soon be okay was enough to overshadow the cold reception. As it was unacceptable for him and Rose to sit together when they were not yet married, Eric ushered her to a seat in one of the rows while he himself went to another row to take a seat. Pastor John paused briefly to glance at their direction and then went back to his sermon, which incidentally was on the topic: Loving Everyone, Including Your Enemies.

But then, the unexpected began to happen. As soon as Rose sat down, everyone on that row stood up and went to other rows. Alone and Visibly embarrassed, Rose looked frantically around, as if searching for Eric to come and rescue her from the humiliation. Where he sat, Eric was boiling with anger. He was disappointed not just with those who left their seats because of Rose but also with Pastor John, who did nothing to save the situation but went on with his preaching as if nothing was wrong. More fingers were now pointing; the whispering mouths became more audible:

‘Is that not the daughter of that witch from Asaba?’

‘Yes, the one who has bewitched Brother Eric, the senior pastor’s nephew.’

‘What is she doing here? Does this place look like a coven?’

‘So, they are not satisfied with their sinful union but have also come here to rub it on our faces?’

‘What insolence!’

Rose was looking for a way of escape. The opportunity came when the pastor asked everyone to bow their heads for a ten-minute prayer. Knowing that most of the eyes were now closed, she quickly stood up and walked out of the church. Eric, too, stood up and left through the back door.

Rose was almost by the roadside when he caught up with her. ‘Rose, I am sorry. I am very sorry.’ He attempted to hold her hand.

‘Leave me alone!’ she shouted, hitting his hand away.

‘I am sorry. It’s because Uncle Sam is not in church.’

‘I say leave me alone! Can’t you hear? Leave me alone!’ She was now screaming and passers-by were stopping to stare at them. Eric did not say anything more. He followed at a close distance as Rose left the main road and took the street that led to the junction facing her mother’s house. When they got to the junction, she stopped to face Eric. ‘Where are you coming?’ she asked. ‘Go back to them. You have succeeded in tricking me to your church so that I could be made an object of ridicule. What else do you want? Eric Gboneme, answer me, what else do you want?’

She walked towards the house and Eric followed without uttering a word. When she got near the door, she quickened her pace. Anticipating what she was about to do, Eric increased his own pace. Rose got to the door, went into the corridor and began to shut the door on Eric’s face but he was ready for her. He grabbed the door and began to push from outside while she pushed from inside.

‘Leave this door, leave this door,’ she was shouting and panting as she struggled with him. 

‘No, I won’t leave.’ He was resolute.

‘If you don’t leave now, I will bite you. I swear, I will bite you.’

‘Are you the only one that has teeth? If you bite me, I will bite you back.’

Rose’s mother was lying on the bed in the room, having a late morning nap, when she was woken by the noise coming from the corridor. She sprang up and hurried to the direction of the noise. Rose was trying to drag Eric’s hand into her mouth while he fought back when the old woman got to them. 

‘Stop this nonsense!’ she shouted, trying to pull Rose away. ‘I say stop. Oya, Rose leave him.’

She finally succeeded in disengaging Rose from Eric and directed her to go to the back of the house while she took Eric into the room so he could tell her what the matter was. As Eric narrated the incident that took place in the church, he noticed the woman was looking strangely at him. Suddenly, she got up and went out to where Rose was seated on a bench under the tangerine tree at the backyard. Rose was weeping silently, the tears streaming down her face.  

‘So, you eventually went to that church after I told you not to go?’ she said. ‘Ntoy-y-y-y-y-y!’ She had now placed a finger on each cheek, taunting her daughter.

Eric was at a loss. He had thought the woman would plead his case as she often did when he had minor quarrels with Rose; now, she was pouring fuel into an already burning fire. When the old woman was satisfied with taunting Rose, who was now crying more loudly, she went back into the house without uttering a word to Eric.

For a long time, Eric stood where he was; he realised he could neither go to the daughter nor to the mother. After a while, he decided to go home. He knew it was not proper to leave Rose alone in her present mood but also knew that his continued presence in the house would do nothing but bring back to her memory the ugly incident that happened at the Believers Church of God. He was also afraid that if he got closer to her, it might trigger another bout of emotional outburst. He had since known that, just like her mother, Rose was sometimes unpredictable, especially in the heat of tension.

With this in mind, he began to walk towards the corridor. He was about to step into the narrow passage when he heard Rose’s voice: ‘Eric, please come back.’

He turned and walked back towards her, noticing that she had shifted on the bench to create room for him. Eric quickly took the offered seat, afraid that she might change her mind. When he was sure she had completely calmed down, he took her hand and she did not resist.

‘I am sorry,’ he told her. ‘Believe me, if Uncle Sam was in church, what happened today would not happen. He would have known how to handle the situation when those idiots, who call themselves Christians, were misbehaving in the house of God.’

‘I, too, am sorry for being rude to you,’ Rose said. And then, she went on, ‘Eric, you must promise me that you will never ever again talk to me about going to that church. I can never step into that church again. My Mum warned me not to go but, to please you, I disregarded her warning and went. Look where it has landed me. Imagine the way they were moving away from me, as if I had shit on my body.’

‘Rose, after what happened today, no one would blame you if you decide not to go to that church again.’ Eric was not happy at the thought but he knew he had to agree with her for the sake of peace. With time, she might change her mind. ‘I will not force you to come to my church if that’s what you want.’

‘That’s what I want!’ she snapped. Her voice was beginning to rise again. ‘Why do you make it look like I am being too difficult? Do you know what I went through?’

‘It’s okay,’ Eric said, patting her reassuringly on her back. ‘I just told you, I will not force you to come to the church.’

When Eric left, that day, he was a happier person. Rose had completely forgiven him. But her mother did not answer his greeting as he left. Rose told him not to worry; she would talk to her and calm her down.

When Uncle Sam came back the next day and heard about the incident that took place in the church, he summoned Pastor John to the church office. The senior pastor was not happy with his assistant for not having the maturity to handle the situation despite all the training he got at the Seminary. 

‘The house of God is made for sinners to come in and get transformed,’ he told Pastor John. ‘Our master, Jesus Christ himself, ate and dined with them when he was here on earth. Why then should we, who profess to follow his footsteps, behave like the Pharisees and chase away people from the church because we perceive them to be sinners?’

‘I am sorry, pastor,’ Pastor John said. ‘I wanted to reprimand them when they started leaving their seats but I was afraid that people might start leaving the church if I did that. You know the tension this girl and her mother have generated in the church over the past couple of weeks.’

‘Is it the people you should fear or God?’ the senior pastor asked. ‘Is this how you will handle the church when I eventually leave for Lagos and you become the senior pastor? Will you be preaching what the people want to hear or what is right in the sight of God?’

That evening, Uncle Sam called Eric and asked him to take him to the house where Rose and her mother lived. The man of God had decided that the best way to appease the girl and her mother was to go and apologize to them before it became too late. He also decided to go there himself, instead of sending one of the church workers, so that the apology would carry enough weight and have the desired impact. Eric was not sure it was time for any member of the church to go and see Rose and her mother when they were still smarting from the incident of the previous day. But he could not muster up enough courage to tell his uncle. 

Rose and her mother were as usual at the back of the house cooking when Eric and his uncle walked into the long corridor. Eric saw Rose whisper something to her mother and at once, the woman stood up and made for the corridor.

‘Yes? Who are you looking for?’ The anger in her voice was also evident in the expression on her face.

‘Good evening madam. I am…’ Uncle Sam began.

‘I say who are you looking for?’ Her voice had risen and before Uncle Sam or his nephew could say anything, she continued in the same anger-ridden loud voice: ‘Get out of here now! I say get out of here!’

‘Please, Mama, I am here to apologize over what happened yesterday,’ Uncle Sam started again.

But she would not let him finish. ‘Okay, you don’t want to leave, abi? Wait for me.’ She disappeared into one of the empty rooms along the corridor.

From where she stood at the end of the corridor, Rose was frantically signalling at Eric and his uncle to leave. While Uncle Sam was contemplating how to handle the unexpected development, Rose’s mother suddenly came out of the room. She had a basin of water and before the unwanted visitors could duck, she poured the smelly content on them. It was when the water hit its target that Eric and his uncle discovered it was water that had been used to ferment cassava. They quickly made their way out of the house, the heavy stench following them. A little crowd had gathered outside but neither uncle nor nephew paid them any attention as they walked towards the junction near the house. When they got to the junction, Uncle Sam stopped and turned to Eric.

‘Don’t ever go near this house again,’ he told him. ‘The evil lustre I saw lurking in that woman’s eyes was like hell. It was burning with a strange fire of bitterness and hatred. That woman is indeed evil. You may associate with the girl in school and try and win her to Christ but don’t you ever come to this house again. Am I clear?’

‘Y-yes,’ Eric answered hesitantly. The hope of Rose getting closer and accepted into his family was now receding into the horizon of despair and he was completely devastated at the ugly development.

Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?

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Eric And His Rose

‘I don’t know how to tell her I love her.’

It was during the break period and the two friends were seated as usual under the big mango tree in front of their block. It was now almost a week since Eric first met Rose and he had finally confided in his friend that, of a truth, he was in love with the new girl from Asaba. But the challenge was how to tell her about this love. Unlike Ubaka, Eric was the shy type, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He had tried on one or two occasions to tell Rose of his feelings for her but was not able to do that. Once, during the evening games, he called her to a secret corner with a determination to let it all out. But when she came and cast those deep and penetrating eyes on his, he lost courage and said other things instead; even though, with the way she was reluctant to leave, it was obvious she was expecting to hear some other things from him.

‘You really want me to go back to the Games?’ she had asked.

‘Y-yes,’ he stammered. ‘You may go back to the Games. That’s all I wanted to know: how you are faring in your English Language class.’

She had then gone back, leaving Eric who was now full of regrets that he could not do what Ubaka once referred to as ‘the easiest thing in the world’. At last, Eric decided to share his problem with his friend. After all, he had often heard Uncle Sam tell his mother that a problem shared was a problem half solved.

‘I don’t know how to tell her I love her,’ he repeated.

‘You don’t know how to tell her you love her?’ the other said, a mocking look in his eyes. ‘Well, you can tell her she is the only cockroach in your cupboard, the only sugar in your cup of tea but that the only challenge you have is that wicked pair of bras of hers that has kept in perpetual custody those big and very soft, succulent, delicate and tantalizing…’

‘I am serious!’ Eric told him.

‘But so also am I,’ Ubaka replied. And then, he went on in the same scornful tone: ‘You want me to tell you, the most celebrated English Language student of Obodo-Uku Grammar School, how to talk to your girlfriend? Why, that’s the most absurd absurdity I’ve ever seen.’

‘Please, help me,’ Eric pleaded, ignoring the verbosity. ‘You know I don’t know much about these things like you do.’

There was silence for a while and then, Ubaka said, ‘I have an idea. Why don’t you write her a letter? A love letter in which you express your feelings for her.’

A love letter? That appeared to be a smart idea to Eric. He would have an opportunity to tell her all those things he had always wanted to tell her but this time, it would be in a letter and those bewitching eyes would not be there to cast a spell on him. Yes, Ubaka was right. A letter was the best option in the light of present circumstances.

‘Who will deliver the letter?’ he now asked.

‘I’ll be your courier my boy,’ the other replied with an air of a coach. ‘What are friends for? I’ll help you deliver your consignment.’

There was no time to waste after that. They went to the school bookshop and bought a sheet of writing paper and an envelope and went to the library which was always quiet. Here, they sat and Eric penned down the letter while Ubaka occupied himself with Charles Dickens’ A Tale Of Two Cities.

At first, Eric did not know how to start off with the letter. He wanted to ask Ubaka but realised this might earn him another bashing from his friend. He finally wrote:

Dear Rose. Ever since you came over to help me with that carton of stationery in front of the VP’s office, my life has not been the same again. I see you everywhere I go. Even in my dreams, I see you.  I can no longer concentrate in class because of you.

My pen is knocking at the door of your heart. Please open and let me in; otherwise, I will go crazy. I love you not just because of your angelic beauty but also because of your intelligence. You are the most beautiful and intelligent girl I have ever seen.

I promise to take care of you and treat you like the queen that you truly are and if anyone dares lay a finger on you, they will have my consuming wrath to contend with.

There is no limit to the benefits that will come to you if you agree to be my girlfriend. As the senior prefect, I will use my position to protect you from troubles while in school. I’ll also help you in your school work and make sure you come out with good grades. I can even come around to help you and your mother fetch water from Owa river. That would not be too difficult since we live in the same quarter.

Too much words, they say, confuse the mind. So, I will stop here and wait for your reply which I hope will be positive because, like I earlier stated, I’ll lose my mind if you say no.

Waiting for your reply. Eric Gboneme, SP, Obodo-Uku Grammar School.

When Ubaka saw that his friend was done with the letter, he took it from him and read through. ‘I think this is okay,’ he finally gave his verdict.

Eric thought for a moment and then said, ‘Give it back to me; I want to add something.’ Ubaka gave the letter back to him and he folded it and wrote on the flip side:

Rose! Rose!

Fair is too foul an epithet

For you O fairest of mermaids

‘Hmm!’ Ubaka exclaimed when he took the letter once again. ‘You are indeed a genius. “Fair is too foul an epithet”. That’s a classical use of oxymoron. How did you manage to come up with it within minutes?’

Eric laughed. ‘Actually, it’s not an oxymoron. I think it’s a paradox or something close to it. As for coming up with it, it’s actually not an original. It’s from a book I once read. I only substituted Rose’s name with the original name that was there.’

‘The crime you have committed is called plagiarism, stealing someone’s idea and making it look like it’s your own,’ Ubaka accused.

‘I just owned up to the fact that it wasn’t original, didn’t I?’

‘That does not remove the fact that you stole.’

‘Alright, Impeccable Judge! I plead guilty, I am guilty as charged.’

They both burst into laughter. Since the break period was almost over and there was no time to waste, Ubaka took the letter, which was now inside the envelop, and went off in search of Rose. Eric went back to the classroom to wait for him. Not long after, Ubaka came back.

‘How did it go?’ Eric asked. ‘Did she accept it?’

‘Mission accomplished,’ the other said. ‘Your consignment has been successfully and precisely delivered.’

Eric was uneasy for the remaining part of the day. Now that the letter had been written and delivered, he did not know what to expect. Somehow, he was ashamed of the things he had written in the letter. What would Rose think of him now? Would she accept his proposal or would she scorn him and say he was an irresponsible senior prefect? Or, worse still, would she give the letter to her friends to read and make jest of him? Eric was scared of that last possibility because he knew it could lead to a scandal that could make it to The Community. The Community was the school’s media platform where events within and around the school community were published. The big publishing board of The Community was nailed to a wall by the assembly hall where students could easily come and read at their leisure times. Many students and teachers had, at one time or the other, been made to face the school’s disciplinary committee due to allegations published on The Community. Even though Eric was a sub-editor on the platform, he knew they would not spare him if the news got out that he had written a love letter to a female student of the school.

That day, at the close of school, Rose did not come to carry his bag home as she had usually done. Eric was apprehensive. He now began to question the wisdom of writing that letter. Maybe he should not have written it. But what was wrong with the letter? Had Rose misunderstood one or two things? Had she mistaken the word epithet for epitaph? Eric’s mind was running wild with all sorts of assumptions and negative possibilities.

On the way home that day, Eric met her. But as soon as Rose saw him, she looked at him in contempt and then ran off to join some students in front. Eric was downcast. He was now convinced it was wrong to have written that letter. It was all Ubaka’s fault. He was the one that came up with the idea of writing it. Before the letter, they were close; now, she was running from him. And all because of that stupid Ubaka!

Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?

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The Nightmare

THAT night, Eric could not sleep for a long time. He kept rolling from one end of the noisy spring iron bed to the other, thinking of what Ubaka had told him earlier that day. So, Ubaka now had a girlfriend! Eric had never had any. Apart from what Uncle Sam said about it being a sin, there was this fear that always came up within him each time he tried to talk to a girl. He recalled vividly what happened when he newly assumed the position of the senior prefect of the school and many girls, especially those in SS-2, were trying to get his attention. He sent a junior student to call one of the girls. But his heart was beating so fast and he was so afraid of what to tell her that he walked away as he saw her coming. Not even when the girl came the nest day to honour his call. Eric merely apologised to her and told her there must have been a mistake somewhere because it was another girl he had sent for.

So, Ubaka now had a girlfriend!

‘And do you want one yourself?’ a part of him suddenly asked.

‘No, no!’ the other part hurriedly replied.

‘But why?’ the first part was insistent. ‘Why don’t you want a girlfriend? Look at Ubaka. Despite his big words, he is no match for you. You are more intelligent than him; you are older than him. And yet, he has a girlfriend and you don’t. Is it fair?’

‘Uncle Sam says it’s a sin to have a girlfriend.’

‘What does he know? Many boys in Believers Church of God have girlfriends. Ubaka even knows them and their girlfriends. You heard him say so, didn’t you?’

‘I say I will not have any girlfriend! Get thee behind me Satan!’

To counter the disturbing thoughts, Eric did as he always did when confronted with issues that refused to leave his mind: he counted from one to hundred over and over again. He was still doing this when sleep came to his rescue. 

But it was to wander in the horrible and eerie land of nightmare. He found himself in the jungle part of Owa river, the main river that ran through Obodo-Uku community. A naked lady was bathing before him in the river. She was very fair and beautiful and had long hair reaching down to almost her waist. Eric, who had never seen the naked body of an adult woman, was mesmerized at the sight of all the curves. 

‘I am Oshiomo,’ she kept telling Eric. ‘I am Oshiomo, the new girl from Asaba.’

What she was saying was very strange and somewhat mystical, for Oshiomo was the name of the powerful river goddess that controlled most of the rivers of the Niger delta tributaries.

‘I am Oshiomo,’ she was still saying. ‘I am Oshiomo, the new girl from Asaba.’

Eric suddenly noticed that the water was coming up his legs and had even gone up to his waist. He tried to move back towards the bank of the river but realised he could not do that. An invisible chain had pinned him down and the more he struggled to free himself, the more he kept going under. The water was now almost up to his chest.

Now terrified, Eric turned to the bathing woman for help but froze at what he saw. She was no longer the beauty he had earlier seen. She had now turned into a monster with big unnatural teeth, a drooping tongue and a pair of malevolent eyes that were cast wickedly on him.

‘Help! Help!’ Eric shouted, turning his face towards the river bank to see if there was anyone nearby to rescue him from the monster. That was when he discovered a crowd had suddenly gathered at the bank of the river and was watching the unfolding drama. Ubaka was among those in the crowd. He was pointing at Eric and the monster and talking excitedly to those near him. Even Uncle Sam and Aunt Celina, his fiancée, were there too. Uncle Sam was looking sorrowfully at him while Aunt Celina was leaning on him and crying. And then, from the crowd, a file of uniformed officers – Eric could not tell whether they were soldiers or police officers – came out and began to aim their guns at him as if it was a firing squad and he was the target.

The water was now almost up to his neck. Caught between the monster and the gun-wielding officers, Eric was horrified and did not know what to do. And then, bang!-bang!-bang! The officers had begun to shoot.

‘Help!’ Eric screamed. ‘H-e-e-e-e-e-l-p!’

He woke up with the scream still on his lips. His body was covered with sweat and his heart was pounding so furiously that it was as if it would burst at any moment. Still shaking, he got up from the bed and looked round the room, trying to convince himself it was all a dream and he was not actually at the bank of Owa river.

Nne Ejime (or Mama Twins) had heard her son’s screams. She got  up from her bed, took up the local lantern lamp and made her way to his room. Eric was still seated on the bed, trying to shake off the effect of the nightmare.

‘What is it?’ Nne Ejime asked.

‘It was a nightmare,’ he replied. ‘I had a terrible nightmare.’

She slowly lifted the lamp up to the raffia ceiling above. ‘Sweep off all those cobwebs. I have always told you to make sure there are no cobwebs on the ceiling before you sleep under it but you will never hear. They make one have bad dreams.’

She stood by the door while he took a nearby broom and swept away the cobwebs. When she was satisfied that the job had been done, Nne Ejime told him to lie back on the bed and then went back to her own room. Eric waited until she had gone back and there was no sound coming from her room. Then he quietly stood up, zipped open his portmanteau bag and brought out his leather-cover Bible. It was a present Uncle Sam had given him some years back. He opened to Psalm 23 and began to read: ‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…’ He read the entire chapter again and again until he slept off.

Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?

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