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Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by tspun(m): 6:18pm On Dec 03, 2013 |
oga zuby welcome bak. Ride on, I day follow u bcus ur head day there. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by poccahunter(f): 10:16am On Dec 04, 2013 |
wonderful write-up. Its like reading a Sydney Shelldon book. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 1:35pm On Dec 04, 2013 |
Chapter 47: Plan B Before Emeka could let out a scream, Ricardo held his mouth tightly and muffled the sounds from coming out. ”I asked if you know me and not where you see me. If you try to give me another silly or dumb answer, i will try your head next. I don’t care if you die here or not” i said. ”Brother please, i will tell you everything. It was not me, it was Mr Clement who sent us to you. He wanted us to beat you. We followed you for many days before we tracked you down to the Gasperdam lake” Emeka said. ”I have not asked who sent you or why, i have just asked if you know me, although your statement helped. But i want us to do this one after the other. Who is your second at the lake”? I said. ”His name is Jamal, he said he is from Algeria. We smoke weeds together at the coffee shop inside the canal near the Amsterdam central station. That is where i met him” he said amidst sobs. ”I want to know where he lives. If you give me the address, you will leave this place alive but if you don’t, i am sorry i can’t help you”. I said. He said he didn’t know where Jamal lived but said he could give me his phone number and tell me how to track him down. ”Well, i am going to lock you up here and gag your mouth with cloths and tapes until i find Jamal. By the way, since Clement only asked you to beat me, why did you push me inside the water to drown and die”? I asked. He started crying. As always, it was the handiwork of the devil. The devil had manipulated him to push me inside the cold water where i could have died. ”Where are you from”? I asked. He said he was from Onicha-Ugbo in Delta State. He was apparently of Igbo Origin. ”Do you have brothers and Sisters and Parents”? I asked him. He nodded. I want you to call your mother now and tell her that your girlfriend will call her in the morning and talk with her. Tell her that your girlfriend lives in Onitsha and that you met her on the internet. Tell her that she will call her later tonight and speak with her. Remember, if you say one silly thing, you die. I am not going to do anything to your mother Emeka. I only want to know your village and compound. That is the only way i am going to make sure that you won’t try anything on me again if i let you go; you can see its for your own good” i said. I gave him his phone and he called the mother. He told her that the girl she wanted to marry will call her and will possibly visit her the following morning. The woman, as would many other mothers, was happy that his son was going to bring a wife home. Right inside the warehouse, i called Evelyn in Onitsha and told her what to do. I lied to Evelyn that the woman she was going to visit in the morning had been disturbing his son Emeka to get married. ”I will send you some money in the morning. Give the woman N5000 and use the rest for transport” i had told Evelyn. She was happy that she was going to get some pocket money. She was my cousin wo depended on me for her school fees. ”What if i had died inside the water you pushed me into, would you have told my people”? I suddenly asked Emeka. ”You can’t die like that, the water is not too deep” he said. I hit his head with the log of wood i was holding. As usual, he was stopped from crying out. ”You are going to remain here until your wife return from visiting your mother tomorrow. I may release you and go after Jamal alone, if you leak any information to him, i will capture you again” i said. He swore never to tell Jamal anything if i allowed him to go. Right inside the warehouse, i knew that i had just kidnapped someone. It was a major offence everywhere in the World. It was something that could easily land me in prison for a long time but whatever risk i was taking was minor compared to the fact that i could have drowned in Gasperdam lake. There were things that fortified our nerves whenever we witnessed them. Pushing me down into a lake was a near death experience. I could have hit my head on the metal rail that ran down to the water, which could have in turn, rendered me unconscious. There was no way i could have been able to swim or survive if i had been unconscious. And there was the lunatic called Emeka who sat in front of me, telling me that i could not have died. At about 12pm, we gagged Emeka’s mouth with a piece of cloth and tied his legs to the chair he was sitting. His hands were also tied in front of him. The Surinames wanted to tie his hands at his back but i took pity on him. Dennis left with his gun around 1:25am while i stretched myself on top of a long refrigerator. Sleeping was out of question since our victim could have started anything anytime. At around 4am, i got up and sipped from the bottle of Hennessy sitting on the floor. ”Emeka, we will stay here until the afternoon of today” i said to him after swallowing the hot liquid from the bottle of Hennessy. ”Like i warned you earlier, if you try anything, i will hit your head with this big metal on the floor and you could die instantly. You know how African deaths are treated in this Country. The Dutch government won’t care as long as you cannot come to defend yourself in court. The worst that could happen to me is three months prison term and deportation from here. Therefore, i am going to warn you one last time. Stay quiet especially if you hear any noise outside. I have people who are monitoring the movements of people outside and they will be walking past here from morning to afternoon. Do you understand” i said. He nodded and remained calm. As a result of his obedience, i removed the cloth in his mouth and allowed him to breathe heavily. Around 8am, Dennis came with some food. They all ate except me. The food was some Suriname junk which i wasn’t interested in eating. Apparently they had to do something since i had given €500 to Ricardo for their services. I had also promised to give them another €500 for each day that i used his warehouse for my operations. ” War is nothing more than organized insanity. That’s why crazy and unexpected tactics work most of the time. When they don’t, we won’t live to tell about it” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Manweysabi(m): 2:24pm On Dec 04, 2013 |
Hello zubby, Please, i didn't see the concluding part of your previous thread 'There And Back on Time' Where can i read it. Thanks. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 2:41pm On Dec 04, 2013 |
Manweysabi: Hello zubby, www.globalruns.com Season 4. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 11:19pm On Dec 04, 2013 |
Chapter 48. When i returned back to the warehouse from where i had gone to send some money to Evelyn for her transportation and other expenses to Onicha-Ugbo, Ricardo and Dennis were still there. They had moved Emeka to the back of the warehouse and blocked him with four large freezers. They explained to me that they needed to open the door of the warehouse to avoid suspicion from people who usually see the door open. I understood. I had sent €100 to Evelyn and told her to go straight from the Bank where she received the money to Emeka’s village. I had told her to give N5000 to the woman she was going to visit. ”Emeka, Your mother could call you anytime. It could be that your wife had located her. If she calls, tell her the necessary things she need to hear. Like i told you, i want to know your place so that you won’t do anything after this ordeal. I am going to give my people instructions in Nigeria, to locate your place and burn everything in it including humans, if they didn’t head from me at three days intervals. You see, you put yourself in this situation. I don’t know what Clement gave you and what he told you but pushing me into a lake to die was extreme. It is unpardonable” i said to our captive. From my wallet, i produced another €500 and gave it to Ricardo. I needed to make him understand that we were still together. He was all smiles after receiving the money. Things were very hard in Amsterdam and the entire Europe. €1000 was such a big money especially if you had no serious work that gives you money constantly. At 10:20am, Evelyn called. She had located her mother in-law and they were getting along pretty well. She had answered some questions and had given some money to the woman. She had also managed to meet with two of Emeka’s siblings. They had exchanged numbers too. She did very well. I felt a little guilty sending her to that kind of dangerous errand but someone was going to do it for me. ”Evelyn, the guy you visited his mother tried to kill me here but i survived. I have him now and that is why i sent you to locate his place. When you get back to Onitsha, call Kapito, Awilo, Chiko, Chuks and Umunede. Tell them what happened. Take them to Onicha-Ugbo and stay around the place you visited. Don’t show your faces in public places. If i call you, i will tell you what to do. If i don’t call every 30 minutes, call me. If i don’t answer, pick the woman up and tell her that you returned to take her to Onitsha and show her the house Emeka bought there, she will follow you” i said to Evelyn on the phone after she left Onicha-Ugbo. ”Now that we have settled the village matter, it is time to call Jamal. I am going to remove every rope that tied you to the chair. I will also give you your phone. If you try anything funny, your mother and siblings dies” i said to Emeka. I removed the ropes on Emeka and gave him his phone. ”Call and tell Jamal to meet you in Bijlmer. I will allow you to meet him at the bus stop” i said. I called Ricardo aside and told him to tell Dennis to go and hide the gun somewhere. I walked with Emeka slowly to the front of the Kempering building. There was an Afroshop owned by a Nigerian there. We got into the shop and bought recharge cards, then we stepped outside and called Jamal. Jamal said he would be in Amsterdam Zuid-Ost (South East) in an hour. Amsterdam South East was where Bijlmer was located. As we waited at a cybercafe opposite the bus stop, i lectured Emeka on what to do when Jamal arrives. ”You can see that i am not a killer Emeka. You people started this nonsense and that is why we are doing this. I am not going to do anything to Jamal. I just want to see and know his face so that i could be careful with him in the future. Therefore when he comes here, tell him that you bought a fridge at the warehouse which you wanted him to help you carry out to the road. He may be angry that you brought him to Bijlmer because of such small reason. Remember to be apologetic. Remember also that one wrong move could be dangerous for your people down home. I don’t care if i die or not” i said. Emeka pleaded with me to forgive his actions. According to him, he didn’t know things would escalate to that level. They were only sent to ruffle me up but they saw an easy opportunity when they saw me sitting on the edge of the water. ”I am not like that. This man even gave us just €300. Now see what i have gotten into because of such small money” he had said. ”You mean i was supposed to die because of just €300”? I asked him. He didn’t say anything. As i reflected on his latest revelation, i came to the conclusion that the lives of humans were only hanging on threads. It was so ridiculous and shameful to die because of €300 after everything i had gone through in life. I didn’t die for deals worth Thousands of Euros i had done. I didn’t die for the Chase by a connected Madam Grace in Portugal. I didn’t die when the Okada group nearly lynched me in Lagos. I didn’t die when the Nazi skinheads and the Arabs were after me in Germany. I didn’t die when i was nearly caught at the Cathedral in Abdijan Ivory coast. No, i couldn’t just die because of €300. It was the crab that blamed himself after swimming across the ocean and ending up in an old woman’s pot of soup. After reporting Clement to the Enugu meeting, they had confronted and warned him but it seemed that the warning escaped from his ears. Since he wanted violence, there was no need to report him to anybody anymore. It was time to take the laws into my hands and do what i loved doing; Revenge. Emeka and I waited patiently for Jamal until he showed up, then Emeka approached him and convinced him to follow him to the warehouse. I walked about 100 meters behind them, making sure that they didn’t see me. They got to the warehouse where Ricardo and Dennis were working on a damaged Computer CPU. I had warned them to hide the gun and every incriminating object in the warehouse. ”Are you Jamal” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Ayokunleayoolashakirudeen(m): 3:12pm On Dec 05, 2013 |
@zubby i have read 100 page in the part 1. am suprised that those following,did not join here...its sad...there is still over 30 pages to read...i might yet find out why... i cant wait to see what you did to the alayes...and how you regained your 11450 naira from them...this is just brilliant |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Kx: 3:43pm On Dec 05, 2013 |
Thread to follow 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by DewiseKing: 9:24am On Dec 06, 2013 |
@ Zubby; Nice write -up!!!! 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 1:06pm On Dec 06, 2013 |
Chapter 49 The startled Young man looked back. ”Yes, i am Jamal. Who are you” he said. Obviously he didn’t know me. The job of beating me up had been contracted to Emeka who in turn, contacted Jamal to help out. ”I saw you at the bus stop and recognized your face as one of the people who pushed me into the Gasperdam. I recognized this Jacket you are wearing” i said as i pointed to his ‘Harley Davidson’ jacket. ”My friend, i don’t know what you are talking about. I am not the only person who own this kind of Jacket” he said. Whoosaa! A big slap flashed across Jamal’s face. It was from Ricardo. He staggered back and forth and stood in one place. Dennis had come out to the front of the house pretending to be calming things down. ”I am going to ask you a question Jamal. Why did you push me inside the water to die” i asked. ”I didn’t push you inside the water, my friend here pushed you inside the water. I have told him that what he did was not good. I also told him that we should go back and help you out of the cold water but he said that he didn’t want you to see his face” Jamal said. He was obviously saying the truth. The Arabs usually cracked under pressure. Emeka was there and he didn’t deny. Jamal also said that he didn’t know why Emeka wanted to beat me. According to him, Emeka just gave him €50 and told him that he wanted to ruffle me up. ”I followed him but when we got to the lake, he pushed you from the back and told me to run” ”You Know Jamal, i believe you. Therefore i am going to let you go. I want the €50 you collected from Emeka. We need to return it to a man who had sent Emeka to kill me” i said. Jamal fumbled shaky hands in his wallet and gave me €50. I told him to leave Bijlmer and never come back if he wanted to live. He walked fast out of the garage and disappeared. I and Emeka walked out of the garage as well. ”I need the money Clement gave you, the remaining €250” i said to Emeka. He didn’t have the money with him but asked me to follow him to his house. We stopped a Snoda and drove to his place. He gave me the money and told me to please call off my people from his home village in Delta State. The visit of Maria had made me lose concentration on the Clement issues. I didn’t know that he could go to the extent of bribing petty thugs to beat me up or even kill me. I placed a call to Evelyn and told her to take her squad and leave Delta State. Onicha-ugbo to Onitsha was not far. I promised to send her some money the following day to take care of the squad she took to Delta State. They were all my foot soldiers but to maintain them, i usually send the minimum of €100 every month which was a large sum of money then in Nigeria. At the end of the day, i had cleared my problems with Jamal and Emeka. I had gotten all the information i needed from them. As i suspected, it was Clement who sent them. Due to the visit of Maria, i had taken my mind off Clement but as it stood, it was time to go after him. When i left Emeka, i drove back to Billy. Billy was the Chairman of the Enugu meeting in Amsterdam. I had previously reported Clement to him and i believed he confronted him but based on what happened at the Gasperdam, it was obvious that Mr Clement didn’t heed the warning, advice or suggestion Billy gave him. He had decided to attack me by sending petty thieves who had no hope of returning to their countries, to come after me. Since Maria had left back to Napoli, i had every time i needed in the World to concentrate on how to attack Clement and protect myself. I had taken my eyes off the ball and the result was that i almost got killed. It was so unlike me. Clement had given me some signs that he was after me. I should have done the things i knew how to do best which was to initiate attack before my enemies. The little relapse in calculation, coupled with the fact with the days i spent with Maria had caused the major scare. It was luck that saw me got out of the waters alive. It was a pretty cold water which could have even killed me. I had had to live with the soaked clothes until i got home. Pat was living in my room throughout the entire period i spent with Emeka and Jamal at the warehouse. She could have returned to wherever she lived but i feared that she could open her mouth anyhow after smoking marijuana in the city. As a result, i gave her enough money to buy a bottle of Hennessy and some weeds, then stay in my apartment. I had also warned her not to reveal anything to Robin. Robin believed that i was staying with Ify and Samson. It was the reason why he didn’t ask why i left someone in my room alone. I had also stopped dealing on drugs because the environment had become a little hostile for me. My war with the people of Nando had gone viral. People had become scared of dealing with me due to the fear that i was unpredictable. I didn’t care much anyway since my little investment with Robin was yielding enough money to pay for the house rents and take good care of my family in Bulewijk. I had also saved a lot of money which i had sent home to be paid into my diamondbank account. At a stage, i felt that it was time to sneak out of Holland and visit somewhere else for a few days or even weeks. It was the top of my priorities until Clement sent his thugs to deal with me. Anger had wiped away my thoughts of leaving Holland. It would have been very difficult for me to live with myself if i didn’t do anything about Clement. As i sat in my room, i brought out my phone and typed in some of the things i was going to do. First on the list was to find a way to send Ify and Samson out of Amsterdam. After that i will locate Clement and teach him how to beat an enemy. Then after that, i will leave Holland to allow the dust to settle before returning to Amsterdam. The list contained the possible destinations where Ify was going and where i was running to after hitting Clement. Paris, Rome and Napoli were my three top destinations. ” You’re a clever strategist, but not all battles require tricks. Sometimes the simplest way to kill something is to swim up to it and bite it in half” 4 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:21pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
Chapter 50. I accidentally met Maria at the Kwakoe festival. She had come for business as she said. We had visited Ify and Samson, then African Kitchen before leaving for Red Light district that Night, we eventually ended up at the Sinners night club. RedLight District of Amsterdam is the largest prostitution hub in the World. It was situated near the Amsterdam Central station. The district was specially created for sex workers. There were thousands of shops/rooms where the prostitutes rented and paid to the government of Netherlands. There were sections for every known races and sub races on planet Earth. There were Negros, Caucausians, Neanderthals and every other known races. Among the Negros were mostly, the Caribbean and South Americans. There were sections for male prostitutes who had somehow managed to turn themselves into female species of humanity. As i learnt, some used dangerous operations to cut off their penis and create vaginal holes to make them look like ladies. There were also lesbians’ and homosexual sections. There were sex museums where one can go and see all kinds of sex equipments. There were sex shops in every corner of red light where one can buy anything ranging from condom to vibrator, viagra and sex enhancement balms. Rumour had it that the district was created to reduce women rapes in Holland. People trooped from all over Europe to Redlight for sex and smokes. I had taken Maria to Redlight so that she could understand how sex was being regulated in Amsterdam. She was intrigued by what she saw. Men and women showcased themselves inside glass doors and rooms decorated with neon lights. The deceptive lights were capable of turning an ugly girl into a beautiful one all in an effort to convince their customers. Police could be seen walking all over the place making sure that people behaved. As it was, men would bring their girlfriends and wives to work at the redlight for money. The men would leave their partners and return to pick them up later in the night. The redlight district of Amsterdam was the opposite of everything i learnt about sex as a kid. Back then in Africa, we were told that sex before marriage was sin before God. We were told that if we looked at a beautiful woman with lust, we would go to a hell where the fire never stopped burning. We were brought up to believe that sex was meant for people who were married in the Church. But right there in Redlight, i saw things differently. I saw men bringing their wives to sleep with other men for money. I saw men sitting outside the door listening and watching while other men slept with their wives. I took Maria to a section where we paid €5 each and watch people having live sex. Right there at the Amsterdam Redlight, the Biblical story of Sodom and Gomorah came to my mind. Sodom and Gomorah were two cities that indulged in illegitimate sex according to the Bible. God in Heaven had punished them by sending fire from the sky. Whether it really Happened or was just coined together to scare us was still unknown to me. According to the Church, it was actually those white people who brought their Religion to us. They brought the Religion together with so many other things including schools. While schools and education in General dealt on facts, Religion remained a myth. While Science developed with time, Religion remained stagnant. According to history, The Catholics were the first to show up. Their ideologies and rules forbade women from wearing trousers or leaving their hairs open inside churches. It remained that way forever until some modern Churches took advantage of the situation and allowed women to show up at their own Churches with trousers and open hairs. In Nigerian and Blackman context, women generally preferred their beautifully made hairs to be seen rather than covered even in the Churches. Half of the Nigerian women went to the Church to show off clothes and hairstyles. Maria whom i believed, was a prostitute in Italy was surprised at what she saw in Amsterdam redlight district. At a stage, she called me and said that it was time to go. We had walked down to the sinners nightclub and drank until it was 4am, then we took the official taxi and drove down to Bijlmer. Maria and I ended up in my Krainest Apartment. I had hoped that she would leave for Napoli in a day or two but she didn’t. She said she wanted to spend a week or two with me. I was alerted because she could have something else up her sleeves. I would go out alone and return in the evening but at a stage, she started going out with me. Rumour started flying here and there. Ify got the news that Maria was still in Amsterdam. She had called me one day and confronted me with the issue. She accused me of sleeping with Maria which i had no intention of denying. She was right. I was sleeping with Maria since there was only one bed in my room. We had managed to start having sex again but i was careful to use condoms at all times. ”Why are you doing this to us” Ify had shouted at me. She was crying. I kept quiet and allowed her to cry to the fullest before i said: ”I was thinking that i owned myself. Now i know i belong to you Ifeyinwa. I understand why you are crying. The only thing i can promise you is that i won’t allow two of you to lack anything or suffer here but you don’t have to dictate my life for me”. She was surprised to hear that from me and had started crying again. It was the major reason why i had decided to send them out of Holland. I needed them to go to Dublin or any city in England. It was going to be difficult since the entire United Kingdom was an Island. But ”where there is a will, there is always a way”. I was going to try. ”Its Ok Ify, stop crying. I will send her away in a few days” i had said and left them. On my way back to Krainest, i had considered the easiest way to tell Maria to leave. She had said she would spend a week or two but at that stage, she had just spent five days. ” It is not for us to calculate our victory or fear our defeat, but to do our duty and leave the rest in God’s hands” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:26pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
Chapter 51: Fear. When i got home, I told Maria what had happened between me and Ify. She handled the matter maturely. She told me that she would feel the same way if she was Ify but also said that she won’t be leaving Amsterdam because Ify wanted her to leave. Life between Ify, Maria and I had continued. As a result of the little dispute between Ify and Maria, i had taken my mind away from Clement and the Nandos. I had walked the streets of Amsterdam without watching my back. Maria were seen everywhere with me. Rumour had it that i had imported a lady from Italy. I didn’t care. The whole thing had started getting to me. There was a lot on my mind. I was pitying Ify a lot. It was true that i provided everything they needed but they wanted something different; me. Yes, they wanted me. Ever since Maria showed up, i didn’t sleep with them. I had left them alone in that quiet cold part of town. I had indulged in enjoying myself while they missed me in Bulewijk. I was almost tempted to close the house in Bulewijk and bring them to Krainest but we did drug deals in Krainest. I didn’t want them to live with such things. Maria spent Eleven days in Amsterdam. She added weight. During her Final days in Amsterdam, i would take her to the Gasperdam lake and sat at a point where we would talk and drink red wines or beers. Sometimes we would bring bread and threw to the ducks in the lake. Gasperdam was a large artificially created body of water. The North side of it served as a beach while the south side was protected by heavy metal pans to stop the large lake from spilling into the city. The entire South East Amsterdam, including Bijlmer were reclaimed from the sea. It was the reason why one could sea Canals all over the place. Before Maria left, i promised her that i will visit Napoli in no distant time. She had assured me that she lived alone in Napoli and would take good care of me anytime i visited. I believed her. Save for the time i suspected that Maria wanted to use Juju to hook me up in Benin City of Nigeria, she never did anything suspicious again. Right inside me, i knew that it was a matter of time before i visit her in Napoli. When she left Amsterdam, i continued visiting the Gasperdam lake. The black society of Amsterdam had started seeing me as a devilish guy who was capable of sending anybody back to Nigeria anytime. Some believed that whatever Ikenna or the rest of the Nandos did to me, i should not have send them back to Nigeria. If there was anything the Nigerians in Holland and all over Europe feared most, it was going back to Nigeria without money, in other words, it was being deported. The proverb of ‘When one door is closed, another one is open’ meant nothing for the Nigerians. Everyone of them wanted to make it big before going back home. Therefore whenever they perceived that anybody posed the danger of causing them to be deported, they would isolate the person. They would even be afraid to greet the person on the road. That was the fate i faced in Amsterdam but i didn’t care. I didn’t need too many friends anyway. It wasn’t their faults but some of them had brain IQs that was as low as that of a goat. Some of them were dragging me down with their methods and modes of thinking. I recalled one of them came to my house one day and saw me reading a novel. He said that it was a waste of time since we had come to Holland to make money. As a result of the isolation, i had taken to the Gasperdam lake to find solace in the quietness and calmness of the slow moving waters. I also recalled the pressure i was facing while i initialy searched for the papers and connection to take Samson and Ify out of the Netherlands. It would have been easy if i had wanted them to relocate to any other Central European country such as France, Belgium or Germany. The above mentioned countries were all stone throws away from Holland but i wanted them to go to an English speaking Country. I wanted the little Samson to learn English and become something good for the Nigerian society in the future. I knew he would be brilliant since i mentored him but crossing the English Channel to the sub-continental United Kingdom required a lot of luck and money. I had gone to Sylvester in Utrecht, a man rumoured to have connections of sending people to the United Kingdom. I had met and discussed the issue with him. He claimed to have the connections quite alright but he asked that i paid him €6000. That was a lot of money which could do a lot of things for me back in Nigeria. During that period, €6000 was approximately N1.2 million in Nigeria. It was enough to bring two hustlers from Africa to Europe. I knew i was doing good for Samson and the mother but what exactly was in it for me. The leftist part of my mind had argued that i may not have access to them again if i sent them to UK. No matter how much i tried to counter that argument, i knew that it could be true. Another reason why i hesitated was that i didn’t trust Sylvester. He had asked for half of the money upfront which was the part of business i hated most. It was the above troubles that were all over my mind when i returned and decided to go to Gasperdam lake to listen to Lucky Dube Music and relax. It was the Lucky Dube song called ” Is This Freedom” that was filtering through the earphones when i felt a huge push on my back. I had fallen into the unclear waters of the Gasperdam and when i raised my head to check what had happened to me, i had seen two male figures running away from the scene. One of them was wearing a large jacket with the inscription ‘Harley Davidson’ written at the back. He was yellow in complexion. His friend was a black man but i couldn’t see any of their faces. I had managed to get myself out of the waters and walked back to the point where i was sitting. That was where i found a small Nokia phone that pointed me to the culprits. It was all planned by Mr Clement. He had just touched the tail of an angry Tiger. “Perhaps you have been wondering about how you will win the tournaments of life. This is an important moment of your life. Just know where your goals are. Dress in the jersey of action and enter the game of vision! Work with your talents, skills, and tactics and with determination! Don’t commit any foul; don’t put yourself on an offside position. Be at the right place at the right time. Attack your failures and defend your goals; look up and watch the time because the whistle may blow at any time. Don’t waste the chances you get! Target the goals and with winning in focus, you will be there” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:30pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
Chapter 52: Ijburg Islands. Ijburg is a nearby suburban in Amsterdam. It was a small beautiful suburb reclaimed from the Lake Ij. According to the small history book i found at a bookshop in Amsterdamse Poort, Ijburg was planned for the middle class. The proper construction started in 2004. It was clearly a new Suburb. As at the time i was having problems with Clement, only two Nigerian families lived in Ijburg. The houses over there in Ijburg were a little expensive. One obviously had to be a Dutch citizen to be able to live in Ijburg. It was in this Ijburg that Mr Clement relocated. Whatever reason why he relocated to Ijburg was unknown but i assumed he was running away from me. Maybe he wasn’t running away from me but i had made the assumption to protect myself. Peharps his thugs had told him how i got the information of his failed attempt from them. I didn’t blame him. He was a typical Igbo man, full of ego and pride. His brother had done something wrong and paid the price for his actions. Rather than finding out what happened, Mr Clement had chosen the part of fire and destruction. Why was he running away from Bijlmer where we all lived? Peharps he had all of a sudden, decided to exercise the powers of his Dutch Passport. Ijburg was an isolated town sitting on top of lands reclaimed from the Lake Ij. There were some carefully planted levees that prevented the lake from overflowing into the residential areas. The population of Ijburg was less than 10,000 since it was a town carefully constructed for the middle class. Among those small population lived Mr Clement and whatever family he had. Over 80% of the Igbo people in Amsterdam were Catholics. They attended Masses at a house called African House in Diemen which was not far from Ijburg. I met Mr Austin, a Nigerian Man who also lived in Ijburg when i started searching for Mr Clement. I had finished shaving my hair at his Salon when i heard him talking about the Ijburg Island. He boasted that they were only two Nigerian families in the entire Ijburg Islands. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying until he mentioned Clement. I had pretended that i didn’t know what he was talking about and went home. His hair salon was very close to my apartment in Krainest. As a result, i started going to the hair saloon on daily basis, just to sit and watch television as if i didn’t have a television at home. Mr Austin liked me a lot due to the articles i wrote on the newspaper. One afternoon, i brought up the issue of Ijburg and asked Mr Austin some questions. I told him that i wanted to visit the Island. He agreed to take me to his place where he lived with a Suriname girlfriend of his. On our way to his house, he had pointed to a house and said that it was where Clement lived. On our way back, i had looked at the house again and saw that the house number was 12. However i made a stunning observation. Every household in Ijburg owned a vehicle. No one was seen walking to anywhere. The entire Island was calm since there was no bus station, train station or any public anything. Ijburg was just a quiet place. The only encouraging thing i saw there was a man with a bicycle who distributed letters and newspapers to each door. The following Sunday, i went to the Catholic Church at the African house. It was my second time of going to the Catholic Church since i arrived in Amsterdam. The first time was when Dozie tried to practice the Nigerian mentality of ”If you don’t go to my Church, we can’t live together” with me. At the African House Church, i saw Mr Clement. He was seated at the front when i entered. On seeing him, I had decided to sit at the back to make sure that he didn’t see me. I endured the boring routine of Catholic mass until the Church was over, then i watched Clement climbed into a blue Toyota Corolla with a woman and drove away. He had apparently bought a new car. Some businesses must have clicked since he now lived in an expensive suburb and had a new car. I was happy that i saw him at the Church. I was also happy that i knew where he lived. What was left for me was to find out if he worked and where he worked. It was going to be a difficult one. Amsterdam was a city filled with thousands of bicycles. Every organised person in Amsterdam owned a bicycle. As a result, i had gone to a shop and bought a used bicycle. A day after i purchased the bicycle, i rode it to Diemen where a daily Dutch newspaper plant was situated. The newspaper company were always looking for distributors. Nobody wanted to work for them because their weekly pay was as good as nothing. ”Good morning Sir” i had greeted the man i met at the reception hall of the newspaper. He had responded and asked what i came to do. I told him that i was looking for a distribution job. He had asked me to sit down and asked a few questions which i answered. After keying my data into their computer, he told me that the pay was €180. The pay was ridiculous but i believed they paid according to what they made. He told me to start work the next day. My work was to go to the newspaper house as early as 5:30am every morning, pick up newspapers and start distributing them in Ijburg. I had specifically chosen Ijburg and the excuse i gave him when he asked was that i loved looking at the man made Islands. He had claimed that he loved it too and had asked me to always remember to cover my body properly since the early morning weather was usually harsh. As it stood, Ozoigbondu had just been employed to work in the Netherlands. Work usually required legal documents and bank accounts but since the newspaper company didn’t pay well, they usually preferred to give money to their workers directly. As i rode home on my new bike people stared at me. When i got home, Robin confronted me. ”What are you up to this time” he had asked. ”Nothing, i just found a job that required bicycle and here we are” I said. ”Don’t do anything stupid” Was his last words. 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:32pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
AMSTERDAM WILL STOP IN CHAPTER 60. WE WILL MOVE TO PARIS NEXT. PARIS WILL HAVE A NEW THREAD. WE WILL BEGIN TWO UPDATES DAILY AGAIN. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by aao: 4:56pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
Nice write up zubby77 |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by uboma(m): 6:54pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
ZUBY77: Welcome to "Life on the Run" Series. Nice write-up so far. I can do some editing for you if are interested. My email is on my signature, feel free to send a mail when you are ready. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Bulcqlay(m): 7:46pm On Dec 08, 2013 |
Weldone zuby77, cnt wait to c d next update |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:31pm On Dec 10, 2013 |
Chapter 53: The new Job. Very early in the morning the following day, i rode my new bicycle to the newspaper plant in Diemen. The manager who had interviewed me the day before was sitting at his desk. He greeted me and commended my punctuality. I had worn a black Jean, a Shirt, pullover and a very well padded jacket. On my foot, i had opted for a sports pair of shoes to enable me ride my bicycle freely. I had also covered my head with a Russian furcap that also covered my ears. I picked up three bundles of newspapers, tied them at the back of my bicycle and mounted the ride. I had leant to ride bicycle back in Nigeria when i was in Junior secondary school. I had also used a bicycle for a few months back in Brandenburg Germany. Therefore, it was easy to master the piece of technology once more. As i expected, the entire streets in Ijburg were deserted and lonely. There was no single person seen outside. I rode past house number 12 and went all the way down to the end of the street, then i started distributing my newspapers slowly backwards. I would go to each doorstep and drop a newspaper, then move to the next door and do the same. Before i got to the middle of the street, the early rises had started going to work. I watched as people came out of their houses, entered their various classy vehicles and drove out of the Island through the main bridge near the biggest levee. I worked my way up slowly until i got to number 30 down the street. Number 30 was about 80 meters away from the number 12 where i was told Mr Clement lived. I had parked my ride near a house where a man had came out from and had driven away. I had also started sorting my newspapers, pretending to be looking for something in particular. Then she came out. The woman i had seen with Clement at the Church. She was a black beautiful lady. She could have been from Nigeria or any other African Country. Or maybe she could have been from the Suriname or Antilles. I didn’t care where she came from anyway. All i wanted was a confirmation that Clement lived there. I had just made that discovery and it was time to leave the area. I had stopped sorting the papers and had started distributing the remaining ones as fast as i could. The lady who came out of Mr Clement’s house had entered into a garage and came out with the same Toyota Corolla i had seen with Clement at the Church. It could have belonged to her since Nigerians in Amsterdam hardly drove such new cars but i wasn’t there to determine who owned what. I had walked up with my ride to Clement’s doorstep and dropped his own copy of the newspaper and moved to the next door. As soon as i stopped at the next door to deliver the newspaper, I heard a door opened behind me, it was Clement. A quick glance had turned up Clement picking up the paper i had just left on his doorsteps. He was wearing a sleeping robe. The type you see the Royals families wore in Castles in Paris and Rome in olden days. He was apparently living large after Hiring thugs to kill me. There was the coward who had given a paltry €300 to people so that they would beat or harm me. I was going to teach him how to sponsor such operations. There was him living like a king in an Island with a beautiful black woman who resembled Naomi Campbell. The Naomi Campbell look-alike obviously had a good paying job. It was obvious she wasn’t Nigerian since Nigerian ladies in Abroad hardly attained that level of status in Central and Western Europe. And even when the Nigerian ladies did attain such levels, they won’t want to have anything to do with Nigerian men. That was the pathetic situation we found ourselves in Continental Europe. Ofcourse there were Nigerian ladies that had good paying jobs but almost all of them preferred to marry a foreigner; preferably white men. Therefore it was safe to assume that Naomi Campbell was either a Ghanaian or Surinames, although there were outside chances of her being a Nigerian. Definitely not Igbo woman since Igbo women had the general lazy belief that their husbands or boyfriends should be the one with the big money. I watched Clement picked up the paper and returned inside the house without even looking my way. Peharps if he had looked my way to say ‘Hello’ or ‘good morning’ like the white men who had come out of some of the houses to pick their own papers, he would have seen or noticed that it was me; although i covered half of my face with the furcap. As soon as he returned inside his house, i distributed the papers quickly to the rest of the remaining ten houses on that street and rode my bike back to Bijlmer. I was done for the day. I had distributed two bundles and it remained one. When i got back home, i dumped the papers inside my living room and went into the bathroom to take my bathe. ”Are you back already” the voice said from the living room. It was Robin. He asked how the work was and if i had enjoyed it. ”Its a nice job Rob, atleast it allowed my lazy ass to ride some sports bicycle around town. Better than sitting in one place everyday” i had said. When i finished my bath, i rode my bicycle to Bulewijk. Ify was still sleeping when i came. Since i was not in the habit of knocking on doors, i called her to open the door for me. She did. I told her that i found a job at the newspaper plant. She didn’t believe that i could do that kind of work. Samson was growing fast. It was supposed to be that way since everything needed to raise a kid was cheap in Western Europe. ”Ifeyinwa do you know anybody in England or Republic of Ireland” i had suddenly asked. As an Igbo girl, she asked why i wanted to know instead of answering my question. I told her that i want her and Samson out of Amsterdam as soon as possible. She had hugged me and said that she loved the idea but didn’t want to leave me behind. ”I want to leave Amsterdam and i need you to leave before me” i had said. ”I don’t know anybody in Ireland but I know someone in Birmingham England” she said. ” The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:33pm On Dec 10, 2013 |
Chapter 54: Dublin Connection. Chinwendu was a lady from Ozalla in Nkanu area of Enugu state. We had met in the Asylum camp in Eisenhutenstadt Germany. She was pregnant during our stay in Eisenhutenstadt. She was the closest person from my state of origin in Nigeria and had been like a sister all through our stay in camp. According to her, the husband had sent her to Europe to give birth since she had already gotten pregnant in Nigeria before coming to Germany. She had somehow managed to end up in Berlin where her elder brother lived. After our stay in camp, she was posted to another Heim in another town while i was posted to Brandenburg. She had returned to Berlin to live with his elder brother. Her elder brother had called me one day and said that he needed help with some money to send Chinedu to Dublin where she could get legal resident permit as soon as she gave birth to her child. I was already doing well in Brandenburg then and as a result, i had given them €1000 to help send Chinwendu to Dublin. A week later, she had called me from Dublin to thank me for the money i gave them. She had promised to send the money back to me as soon as she started work but i had told her not to worry about it since i knew that she or her brother who already had a German Passport then, could be of help to me someday. It was time for them to return the favour. Right inside our apartment in Bulewijk, We had called Matilda, the friend whom Ify said she knew in Birmingham. We had told her that we needed Ify to Migrate to the United Kingdom. After rambling on how difficult things were in the United Kingdom, Matilda had finally told us that she couldn’t help us out. Before Ify could start to complain about how she had helped Matilda in the past, i had called Chinwendu in Dublin. ”Ada Enugu Ji Eje Mba, how are you today”? I had greeted Chinwendu. ‘Ada Enugu Jim Eje Mba’ which loosely translated to ‘The Lady pride of Enugu’ was the name i had given Chinwendu over time. She was a yellow beautiful woman who somehow resembled Ify. Chinwendu had started asking me if i had gotten married which was the same question she had been asking me ever since we parted ways back in Germany. According to her, she had given birth to her third Child while i was still single. ”I have a son and a wife now”, i had said to her delight. Before her joy could subside, i hit her with the request that i wanted my wife and Child to relocate to Dublin. She had welcomed the news and said that she would help however she could. I had narrated my needs to her. Firstly, she was going to send me her resident permit card and which of course covered her last son who was born almost at the same time with Samson. She had agreed and also said that she would accommodate them until they finished registration at the foreign office in Dublin. It was true that Ify had a Nigerian passport with a temporal Dutch resident permit in it but the permit couldn’t allow her to travel outside Holland yet. When i finished talking with Chinwe, Ify marveled at how connected i was to every part of Europe and beyond. She had also asked me how i was going to meet up with them in Dublin since she had mentally believed that we were destined to be husband and wife. ”I will find my way to Dublin when i’m done with Europe. There are some things i need to finish up here before going anywhere” i had told her. I didn’t know where she got that belief that she was going to be my wife. I was a soldier who preferred to be single until i got to atleast 35years. I had always visioned traveling all over the World before allowing a woman to tie me down to one place. But every woman i had come across tried one way or the other to tie me down in one place and start to produce little MEs and little HERs. It was good to have kids but life was a one time journey. I wasn’t going to allow children to live my own for me. And if i died before having any child of my own, so be it. How could i even care what happened to me when i am dead. I was born in a society where women believed that it was a must to get married and have Children. According to them, it was the norm and anything contrary to that would make you a society misfit. I had also lived in a society where marriage was never a priority. Of course back in Germany, i had seen boyfriends and girfriends who lived together for years until they even got to an age where they couldn’t bear children anymore. I had seen married couple who decided not to have children and yet lived happily ever after. I had seen people who mutually agreed to have children without getting married. I had seen couples who divorced and yet lived under the same roof. After seeing all those things, i learnt one thing from them; it was that life was all about how you want it to be for you and for you alone. Doing things because other people did it was a great mistake since your brain was not wired to operate the same way as that of the other people. But back in my own Society in Africa, it was marriage or nothing. As soon as man starts to make small extra money, his people would show up with the marriage suggestions. They would even suggest who to marry and how to marry her. They would suggest the kind of wedding they wanted even without contributing anything. Our lives were being lived for us by other people. It was a pity but i had hoped that someday, i would be able to open up a center where i could be teaching people the things i learnt throughout my sojourns around the World. Before i left Ify, i told her to start getting ready to leave for Dublin. The resident permit card from Dublin could arrive before one week and when it does, she would be on her way out of Amsterdam, the World’s capital city of Drugs and Sex. She would go to Dublin where life was better for women and children. She would leave the war front for me and Mr Clement and all those who would step on my toes later intentionally. Dublin was her Destiny and Destination. ” Men have two greatest fears: the first fear is the fear of being needed, and the second fear is the fear of not being needed” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Bulcqlay(m): 9:16am On Dec 11, 2013 |
Whaoo, gr8t fair tale 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 2:56pm On Dec 11, 2013 |
Emilo:. My first comment . @the bolded,i woulda called you a useless fool if you are not already that. . You need to start afresh and read this because it seems you don't understand him. . His life,his principles,his rules. . You said its because of the pvssy but I remember where he wrote that she made advances which he rejected. . You sound very far from the real world so I'll advice you to go get a life. The likes of ikenna who needs thrashing 3 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by tspun(m): 6:46pm On Dec 11, 2013 |
ZUBY ZUBY i day greet u o, ur writing skill no get mate. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 10:06am On Dec 12, 2013 |
Chapter 55 My second day at work was pretty much the same. I had almost quit the job since i had found out what i wanted at Ijburg Islands but i wanted Ify And My Son out of Holland before taking that decision. According to Chinwendu, she had sent the document a day after i asked for it. It will arrive a day after she sent it. She had used fast express delivery. It all meant that she was really eager to help my family relocate to Dublin. She was also hoping that i could show up in Dublin as well. She said she had missed me and wanted to set her eyes on Ozoigbondu again. After the second day at work, i went to the Amsterdamse Poort and bought a large Samsonite bag for Ify and Samson. When i got home, i helped them packed everything they needed into it. Ify was surprised at the speed at which the preparation was moving. I was surprised too but soldiers were not created to show their surprises like women. I spent the rest of the day with Ify, preparing her for the Journey ahead. I told her everything she needed to know about Dublin. According to the lecture, Dublin had only one airport; the Aerfort Bhaile Atha Cliat airfield which served the city and its environs. The country used Euro Currency which had been as a result of their agitation to separate themselves from the Imperial Number 10 Downing Street London and join the Eurozone that was powered by German Economy which was the richest in Europe. The Irish had also opened up their doors for the rest of Europe to come in and develop the Country. New Structures could be seen emerging from every angle. Half of the Poland citizens had migrated to the new Haven and so was many other countries from the Eastern Europe. Ireland had also opened up for Africans especially the pregnant women who would get instant resident permit as soon as they delivered a baby. I had known a little about Ireland from the research i carried out in Germany when i wanted to run away. I had decided not to run to Ireland because it was an Island. I hated living in Isolated countries such as Ireland or England. The reason was that as a hustler, one thing or the other could easily triger a police hunt on you and it would be pretty difficult to run away from an Island. There were usually only two exit methods and entrance routes to an Island and that were through the air and through the water. Those were the two easiest places to catch a criminal. But in Continental Europe, Germany alone had land borders with Holland, Denmark, Poland, Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland, France and Luxembourg. Nine different countries. It all meant that one can sneak in and out of Germany from any angle. For instance, if one committed an offence in Munich Bavaria in the South, the authorities could be searching the Switzerland and Austrian borders down there in the south while you head up North to the Denmark border. It was true that the whole thing seemed like it was hinged on illegal business but the truth was that i was Illegal in Europe. Seriously Illegal and yet was doing illegal business as well. It was always a matter of time before luck ran out on people like us and before we knew it, the cops would be all over us. One goodluck i had been having was that i knew when to run. Then in Amsterdam, i knew that it was time to run. The only good reason why i was still there was because of Ify and Samson. I didn’t have a clear picture of what would become their fates if i had left them behind in Amsterdam. I recalled what happened to Jennifer when i left her in Berlin. As a result, i was paying the prize of that single action by sending her money from Amsterdam every month. It was true that i had a stone heart but when it comes to women, i hated to see them suffer while there was something i could do. Women were generally vulnerable in our World. Men were general mean to them as well. After making sure that Ify had learnt everything she needed to see her travel safely with Samson to Dublin, we played together until it was time to sleep. The following morning, the DHL courier agent brought the resident permit document to our door step in Bulewijk. After receiving it, i took it to a Ghanaian travel agent called Mr Osei near Venserpolder. He sold a one way ticket to me with the KLM Royal Dutch airline. Ify and Samson were traveling the next day. Robin had called and asked why i had not returned for two days. I told him that Ify and Samson would be leaving for Dublin the next day and that i needed to be with them since it could be the last time i will ever see them. I didn’t wish not to see them again but i was a person who embraced reality. The truth was that Samson was my son but not biologically. There were slim chances that Ikenna or his people could make big money someday and come for their son. There were chances that Ify could get Married to someone else someday and reduce the chances of me claiming Samson as my son. There were also chances that i could end up somewhere where i could not be able to see or hear from them for many years. As a drug dealer, one never knew where he could end up. I knew people who were jailed in Spain and Portugal for over twenty years. I had a friend who was captured in New York while transporting one kilogram of cocaine to USA, he was handed a 30 years jail term. Imagine me spending 30 years in prison and coming to claim a son who wasn’t biologically mine? Samson would be over 30 years then and the truth was that you can’t claim a man of 30 years, who wasn’t even yours in the first place. My friends, That was the truth about ‘Life on the Run’. That was the reality that awaited everybody who was dealing on illegal materials such as arms and drugs. That was the fate of everybody who had a heart as large as mine. What baffled me was that i had no fear whatsoever. I was no longer human. I was no longer normal. My life had been stolen by circumstances but i had one thing; Hope. Yes, i hoped to someday retire in my own Country. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 10:08am On Dec 12, 2013 |
Chapter 56: Mind of the Gods. ”They are with me now” the female voice said over the phone. It was Chinwendu in far away Island of Ireland. Thanks to the wonderful technology called ‘aircraft’. I had just returned from seeing them off at the Schiphol international airport where they had boarded a flight to Dublin. I had decided to catch some sleep since i had woken earlier that morning to distribute the newspapers. I had slept for an hour or so before my phone rang. It was Chinwendu. She had just received my family over there in the Island of Ireland. ”Let me speak with Ify” i had said. ”Hello” i had said. She had started crying. I expected that. I knew she would get emotional. Everything that happened between us must have been like a dream to her. I had spent over €20,000 on Her. Money that i didn’t know i ever made. She wasn’t even married to me. Who could believe that? That was the real definition of my person. I was the kind who could remain poor as long as my friends remain rich and safe. I was that special. It was the reason why i was not one of the richest people in my place. I never worshiped money. I had my own set of rules which was closely guarded. Break any one of them and the consequences would definitely hit you. ”Why are you crying, you just got to a safer place” i had said. ”please don’t leave us out here alone. We need you, Samson needs you” She had said. I told her not to worry since i would come there someday. I knew i didn’t mean it but one never knew where the machinery and journey of life would take him or her. After speaking with Ify on the phone, i felt excited inside my heart. The Gods that wanted me to revenge on Clement had safely seen my family out of Amsterdam and out of danger. As a human, i was entitled to believe whatever i wanted. As a result, i had believed that if the Gods didn’t want me to revenge on Clement, they would have not allowed Ify and Samson to leave Holland very easily. But since the Gods approved their migration to that Isolated Island of Ireland, it all meant that it was time for Clement to leave Amsterdam. Since i was able to send my family out of the entire Holland just to protect them from the looming war, was it not foolish for Clement to remain in Amsterdam? He was supposed to run even further. He was supposed to leave the entire Europe. But the Bastard had chosen to take just a small leap. He had the entire Netherlands to choose from but he chose to move only two kilometers away from Bijlmer. Unfortunately for Clement, he had a Holland Passport. It all meant that he was aready a citizen. Holland was the only foreign Country where he could receive half of human rights as a black man. It all meant that it would be very hard for him to leave Holland. His Foreign passport which should have been a blessing to him had just become a curse. Mr Clement, you better start running. When i said running, i didn’t mean relocating from one part of a city to another. When i said Run, I meant leaving Europe. Since My Family had left Holland for him, it was only fair that he left Europe. He had tried to kill me. He had threatened to kill me and despite every report i made to people, he still went ahead to pay petty thugs to come after me. The thugs must have told him what happened but he must have foolishly believed that he was unreachable and untouchable over there in the small Ijburg Islands. As soon as i came to terms that Ify and my son had finally left, i called a small bus, parked some important items and sent them to Krainest. The Bulewijk apartment had just been closed down. I had called the house agents who gave me the apartment and told them that i was coming to take my €450 deposit which i had given them the very first time i moved in. After settling down in Krainest finally, i called Maria and told her that i could be in Napoli in a few days time. She wanted me to tell her the exact day and time i would come but since i didn’t know how things were going to turn out with Clement, i told her that i didn’t know. ”If you have anywhere to go, please do that. I will stay in a hotel and wait for you” I had told her. Napoli was an old city like many other Italian cities. The Italians were one of the oldest civilizations in Europe. Therefore i believed that there would be cheap hotels and guest houses all over the old monumental buildings that adorned the cities of Naples, Florence, Venice, Roma and others. After talking to Maria, i called Nnamdi in Switzerland. I told him that i could come to Switzerland anytime from the following day to the following week. He said he was waiting. I called Johnson in Berlin and told him the same thing. After talking to Johnson, i called Mike in Belgium and told him. Since i had covered all the neighbouring countries of Holland, i felt a little sense of safety. If operation ‘Hit Clement hard’ failed, it could be important that i sneaked into any nearby country first before going to another Country. I wouldn’t need a long Journey. I would need short journeys at intervals. I recalled in 2006 or 2007 when a bomber hit the train station in London. He was tracked and captured because he had sat in one train from London to Paris which was a long Journey. He could have stopped at the entrance of France and diverted to a smaller city, then to another smaller city and probably go back to a previous city where he had been or even start going back to London. Such unpredictable moves were capable of throwing the authorities off chart but luck also counted. After making sure that i had secured the areas where i could run to, i called Ricardo. ”Are you at the warehouse” i had asked. He said he was. I took a cab and went to his warehouse. He was alone when i came which gave me the opportunity to discuss what i had come for. ”Mr Ricardo, i need a Gun” i said. ”Gun, what for”? he asked ”I found the man who wanted me dead and it is time to square things up with him” i said. He smiled. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Bulcqlay(m): 10:48am On Dec 12, 2013 |
Revenge vs Avenge 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:52pm On Dec 12, 2013 |
Chapter 57: Time to Payback. ”Master how much will you pay me to take care of him” Ricardo said. Money was everything to those Suriname people. They could kill someone for as low as €500. On my own part, i needed to teach Mr. Clement some lessons, not kill him. Ricardo could kill him. I didn’t want any death on my conscience. ”No, Ricardo i need to do this myself. I want to watch him cry for mercy and help” i said. Ricardo hesitated a bit before telling me that he could get the gun from Dennis. He asked if i knew how to handle the piece of metal. ”I need to know how to release the safety latch. Apart from that, i can deal with any other thing” I said. Belgium was not far from Holland. The country was just a stone throw from some parts of Holland especially Breda. A day after taking delivery of the Pistol Gun from Ricardo, i started announcing to everyone around town that i was traveling out of Holland. The concerned people asked about where i was going and what i wanted to be doing there. Some asked about the Jokes on the newspapers and what would happen to it after i might have left Holland. The news that i was leaving town circulated fast. People had seen me carrying Samsonite bag in Amsterdamse Poort. People called and wished me well. Three days after leaking the information that i was leaving town, there was a huge get together of the Igbo community in Amsterdam. A certain self- crowned Ezendigbo of Holland was celebrating his son’s Church dedication in Gazenhoef. Many people were there. I had intentionally dragged my big luggage through the party field and took a cab to the Amsterdam Central Station. I had purchased a one way ticket to Brussels and traveled to Belgium that evening. I got to Belgium before 7:40 pm and checked into a cheap guest house. They charged me €30 per day but when i told them that i could spend up to one week, they reduced the price to €25. I paid for seven days and went into the room to drop my baggage. The room wasn’t a standard one but it would serve its purpose. I only needed a place where i could be sleeping outside Holland for the time being. After settling down, i went outside and bought a simcard. Then i called About ten people and told them that i had already left Holland and that i was in Belgium. After making the calls, i went back to the train station and entered a train going back to Holland. Luckily for me, i followed the French TGV fast train which had just arrived from Paris to Brussel. When we got to Rotherdam, i stepped out of the train and hired a snoda down to Bijlmer. I got to my apartment in Krainest some minutes past 2am. Robin was home as expected. I woke him up and called him out to the parlour. ”Brother please pay attention. Clement tried to kill me some days back. He hired two people to kill me. They pushed me inside the Gasperdam Lake to drown and die but i managed to get myself out of the water. I didn’t explain all these things to you earlier because i believed you Could have confronted him or even started to tell everybody in Bijlmer” i said. I could tell that he was already very angry despite the fact that it had been days since the incident occurred. ”Clement now lives in Ijburg. I have succeeded in locating his place and i am going after him anytime from now. I don’t want anybody to know about this. That is why i told people that i was traveling out of town. I just returned from Belgium where i had rented a guest house. Here is my phone number from Belgium” i said as i handed him the phone number written on a piece of paper. ”Now i know why you started newspaper distribution in Ijburg. You have such a criminal mind” He said. ”I gave you this number because people could start asking for me anytime from tomorrow or next. Tell them that i travelled to Belgium and that i plan to leave Belgium for France soon” i said. When i finished telling him what i wanted him to do, he asked what i intended to do to Clement. ”I am going to give him a mark he won’t ever forget. Don’t worry, i won’t kill him. You know i can’t do that” i said. Robin made several efforts to discourage me from doing anything to Clement but i made him understand that if i didn’t attack, i would be defending. I also made him understand that i preferred to attack rather than defend. When he discovered that i already made plans on how to hit Clement, he just asked me to be careful. Robin and I stayed awake all through the night. He had brought out a bottle of Jack Daniel but i refused to drink. I needed a very clear head to operate. I planned to go to Ijburg in a few hours time and it could be complicated for me if i took some alcohol. We sat there in the sitting room reflecting on how life had been for us in Amsterdam. We discussed how it all started from Nigeria. At exactly 5:30 am, i picked up two bundles of old newspapers and tied them on the back of my bicycle, then went up to my room and picked up the piece of Gun i had rented from the Surinames. The gun was a 12-Round live ammunition Pistol that was very light in weight. It was an American Military Issued Pistol which i didn’t know how the Surinames came across. As i walked down to the sitting room, i looked at Robin and told him to stay strong. ”Trust me, i will be fine but if anything happens, stay strong and tell my story the way it happened. I can’t sit duck and wait for Clement to Kill me first and i can’t run away from Holland because of him” i said. I rode out of Bijlmer where the Nigerians lived and headed past Diemen to the edge of the levee that held the Ij Lake from spilling into the town. The time was already a few minutes to 6am. The first time i distributed the papers in Ijburg, i had seen Mrs Clement leaving at a few minutes to 6am. I believed that it would be the same every other working day and i was right. Since i wasn’t going to distribute the old newspapers, i stopped at the beginning of the street and smoked a cigarette. Then i saw Mrs Clement. ” Grudges are for those who insist that they are owed something; forgiveness, however, is for those who are substantial enough to move on.” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:55pm On Dec 12, 2013 |
58: IS THIS CRIME OR JUSTICE? Chapter 58 Mrs Clement came out of the house as i mounted the bicycle and headed straight down the road. I had worn a different kind of face cap which covered half of my face. Coupled with the fact that the sun hasn’t come up yet, it was difficult to tell who i was, especially by people who didn’t know me previously. As soon as the woman drove out, i rounded a small bend down the lonely street and rode back up to house Number 12. As i stopped in front of the place, i made a small noise that was enough to let the occupants of the house know that someone was around. As expected, Mr Clement came out of the house to pick up his newspapers. ”Do you have a fire light Sir” i said while my face was facing downwards. A stick of cigarette was hanging from my mouth. ”Yes, let me get it for you”. He said. I had already climbed down from my bicycle and was standing opposite the entrance of his house. ”You didn’t bring a newspaper for us yesterday. There was something i needed to check on the jobs section but i didn’t see…” Mr Clement was saying. He had left his door slightly ajar while going back into his house to get the fire light for me. He had suddenly stopped and looked back as he heard a little loud thump of the door which had just closed behind me. ”Mr Please wait outsi….” Clement stopped his statement mid way as soon as he saw the gun pointing directly at his chest. ”Sit down” i said quietly. His hands were already on his head before i could ask him to do that. In a very low tone, i asked him how many people that were in the house. ”Nobody, my wife just left. I am alone here Sir. Please what do you want” he said with his eyes wide open. ”Sit down on that Chair” i said as i pointed to the single long sofa in the middle of the sitting room. He quietly obeyed. ”Are you sure there is no other person in this house? If i happen to see anybody else here, i will shoot you between the eyes” i said. He repeated that there was no other person except him. ”Where are your phones” i asked. His face brightened up before he could say the next word. I had just removed the face cap that covered my face and he had suddenly found out who i was. ”Clement i asked for your phones, where are they” i said again. He pointed at the small dinning table where two mobile phones were. His mouth had suddenly became dry and he couldn’t say any more words. ”Let me warn you, i came here for you and not to steal anything from you. I am sure you know that, therefore if you try to be James Bond, i will kill you. As you can see, this gun has a silencer, what it means is that nobody will hear any noise if i shoot you. Secondly i don’t care what happens to me after i might have killed you. Stay quiet and answer my questions, then i might consider not killing you” i said. I walked to one of the dining chairs and sat down while still pointing my gun at him. ”Do you know why i came here” i asked. He said he didn’t know. ”Why did you send people to kill me” i asked. He didn’t say a word. I got angry, picked up a small metal side-stool and threw it at him. It cut him squarely on his chest and gave him a wound. Small blood could be seen staining his white Royal lobe. ”Here comes the question again” i said as i picked up another side- stool. I was a little far from him, making sure that the center glass table was a barrier between us. The table was the security from any surprise attack on me. I was still scared that someone else could be in the house. I had hoped that the crash of the side-stool would bring out whoever else that was in the building but since nobody came out or said anything, i assumed that he was really alone in the house. ”Why did you send people to Kill me” i asked again. He was looking straight at me with so much fury in his eyes. ”I didn’t send people to kill you” he said and kept quiet. ”What did you send them to do Mr Clement”? I asked. ”I don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t send anybody to kill you or do anything to you”. He said. ”Mr Clement, this is not a court room or a police interrogation cell. This is just you and me and i happen to be the one with the gun. I don’t like lies. Someone i didn’t know before pushed me into the lake to drown and die. I managed to stay alive just to witness this day and how you will feel about not being in control. I remember what you said the day police left both of us together. I remember getting your number and calling you not to attempt anything silly. I remember sending Billy to ask you not to try anything stupid. I remember sending other people to you not to try anything about what happened between me and Ikenna. Mr Clement, despite all those things, you still went ahead and contracted people to kill me. You gave them a mere €300 to kill me. Is that what i am worth to you?” i said. He kept quiet again. I quietly dropped the side stool i was carrying with my left hand and pointed the gun on his leg, then i squeezed the trigger. A bullet caught his left leg and he let out a wild cry while clutching the point where the bullet hit him. ”You relocated all of a sudden because you knew people would be suspecting you if anything happened to me. Now that you have done your worst, what do you expect from me? If you lie to me once more, i will end your life here and now” I said. ”Why did you send people to kill me?” i said again. Amidst sobs and tears, he started talking. ”I was angry because of what you did to my brother and as if that wasn’t enough, you packed my people in one place and called the police. If it was you, would you not do something about it” he said. ”Mr Clement, Death is different from deportation. Death is the end of everything. If you had killed me, the war would have been over. I wouldn’t have had this one last chance to fight you. That is what death means” i said as i raised the gun again and pointed it on his right leg. ” The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 8:23pm On Dec 12, 2013 |
thanks tho you did it dirty!! . I prefer doing mine clean without trace since the sea is around. . *To everybody*NEVER OFFEND THE WRONG PERSON |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Sondy(f): 11:37pm On Dec 12, 2013 |
Oga Zubby's story is an eye opener....what i've learnt so far.Human beings are different some 4give easily,some never 4gives also not everytime you help someone there must be something to gain in return.Yea Zubby could go to the extreme in some cases but he has helped people selflessly. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by aao: 11:43pm On Dec 12, 2013 |
fingers crossed, waiting to see where this is headed. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 4:57pm On Dec 13, 2013 |
Chapter 59: The second bullet cut through his thigh as he screamed once more. Nobody could hear him from the outside since every building was usually padded due to the harsh cold weather. ”This gun is loaded with 12 pieces of dangerous bullets. You have just received only two of them. More will be heading your way if you don’t answer my questions once more” i said. ”I know that you must be thinking of how to finish me off if you get another chance. Mr Clement, you may get another chance but know this: I have sent people down to your village in Nando and they have found your parents. If anything happen to me over here in Europe, your people will be murdered. I will continue with my questions now” i finished. Mr Clement was bleeding from three different points on his body. ”Please i won’t try anything again. Don’t kill me. My mother is sick and i am the one responsible for her. Please have mercy, i won’t ever come after you again. I will forget what happened” Clement said. He was visibly in pains. ”I am going to leave you under one condition. I don’t want you to tell anybody that i came here. If you do, i will definitely hear it and when i hear it, this war will continue. Remember what i said earlier, i am not afraid to die. If this war claims my life, so be it but be rest assured that if i ever come for you again, it will mean the end of you. Do you understand?” i asked. He nodded numerous times and continued his sobbing. I picked up his two phones and removed the batteries and simcards, put them inside my pockets and got up. Beside the television, was also the house phone. I walked to it and disconnected the network cable from the wall, then pulled the cable out of the phone box and put it inside my pocket as well. ”I am leaving now Mr. Clement. I will stay outside and wait a little. If i hear any noise from you, i will return and finish you up” i said. As i opened the door to go out, my phone started vibrating inside my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that it was from Robin. I dropped it back into my pocket and picked up my bicycle, the day’s job was over. As a matter of fact, the newspaper job was over. I mounted my bicycle and started riding out of Ijburg. I had put back my face cap which covered my face. People had started going to work as i heard some car engines coming at my back. I was sure nobody would pay much attention to the peasant boy who distributed newspapers in early mornings. As i rode down the rode out of Ijburg, i diverted right to a neighbourhood in Diemen where i knew that Nigerians didn’t reside. I got to a small Isolated Canal and threw the phone components inside the water. I also threw the entire newspapers inside the water and continued riding Northwards. I came across an abandoned old building and packed the bicycle inside it, Then i walked a few meters to the road and started waiting for a cab. Less than two minutes later, a young lady stopped to give me a lift. ”Where are you going Mister”? The lady had asked. I told her i was going to the Centrum. She opened her passenger door and i entered. ”Why are you out here in this cold weather” she asked me. She spoke good English. I told her that i had missed direction and had found myself there. She asked where i came from and how long i have lived in Holland. I became suspicious and started giving her short answers. I called Ricardo from inside the car and told him to meet me in front of a popular coffee shop opposite Central station. I had spent only 15 minutes before Ricardo arrived with his cab. I had pulled off my Jacket which contained the gun and hung it carefully on the Chair where i sat. I wouldn’t have removed it but since everyone inside the coffee shop had removed their own Jackets, it could raise some suspicions if i didn’t. When Ricardo came, i picked up the Jacket and went outside. He was seated in front of the cab with the driver. I opened the back door and sat inside the long chair. ”Driver please take us to Schiphol airport train station” I said. The driver said something to Ricardo in a strange language before engaging his gear. Ricardo turned to me and asked me how the operation went. I looked at the driver but Ricardo told me that it was Ok to talk. I told Ricardo that i didn’t want to talk but that everything went fine. I pulled out my wallet and gave Ricardo €400. He took it and smiled at me. I pointed to the jacket lying on the backseat and nodded. He understood what i did. We got to the train station at the Schiphol airport and separated. Ricardo and The driver left while i walked down into the station and bought a ticket to Belgium. The Belgium train which left from Schiphol airport was already there when i came. Since Schiphol was the largest International airport closest to Belgium, the people from that Country used it. As a result, trains to Belgium left the airport every hour. We got to Belgium before 12pm. We had stopped at the large Brussels central station where i had walked out of the station and took a cab to my guest house. As soon as i settled down, i called Robin. He asked where i was and i told him. He was clever enough not to mention anything about Clement. I told him to be on alert for any strange news. Since the Clement incident occurred in Ijburg, i knew that it will take days before the news could spread out to Bijlmer. At around 1pm that afternoon, I picked up my Belgium phone and started making calls. I called people in Holland. I called Germany and even Nigeria. I wanted many alibi. Things could get messy later but i knew that it would be very difficult for anybody to bring me back to Amsterdam anytime soon. My Portuguese resident permit was about to expire. I needed to start working on a new resident permit since i wasn’t going to Portugal for renewal. The only people giving out residents permit then was France. It was clear to me that my next destination was France, but i needed to rest in Brussels for a few days. ” Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die.” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:30pm On Dec 13, 2013 |
Chapter 60: Since i wasn’t doing anything in Belgium, i started making some unnecessary phone calls. On one of those calls, i had contacted Chinelo in Lagos. She was in jubilant mood but first, she blamed me for not calling her for long. I had changed my phone and didn’t give out the numbers to Chinelo and my Cousin Andy. According to Chinelo, they had asked for my number from my elder brother who claimed that he didn’t have the new number as well. There was some good news in the air. Chinelo was getting married and it was to Andy my cousin. I had hoped and waited for that news but ofcourse i wasn’t going to enforce my wish on anybody. They had already gone to Imo state for introduction. Chinelo couldn’t contain her excitement as she told me everything that has happened during the period they didn’t have my phone number. She was already two months pregnant and the traditional/Church wedding was coming up. After talking to Chinelo, i called Andy who also confirmed everything Chinelo said. I called my mother in Enugu and she also confirmed that the wedding was coming up. I called Okey in Jakande estate and asked him to release the bank Cheque i had signed for their wedding. I also called my account officer and gave him instructions to confirm the cheque for them. I was happy for them, especially for Chinelo. The young lady was doing well. She had opened up her own beauty Salon somewhere in Tedi. Andy, for some reasons best known to him, had decided to relocate back to Tedi in Ojo area. It was around the area we both lived together but not the same building. They had rented two rooms and parlour apartment and lived together. I had also told them to take over everything i left behind since i was sure i wasn’t going to stay in Lagos. According to Chinelo, she was doing well with her own beauty saloon which had cost them some big money to put up. She had thanked me for the money i left behind for the saloon and said that her only wish was for me to be present during her traditional wedding in Imo State. She said she would so much show her mother the man who brought her back from the world of uncertainties in Accra and led her to the Man she now loved so much. ”Don’t worry, i will come to Nigeria soon” i had told her. I also called Ify and told her that i had left Amsterdam. She complained that she couldn’t reach me for the past two days and was worried that something happened to me. I told her that i was heading to France but that i was still in Brussels. She was very happy that i left Amsterdam. She said she was scared that something bad would happen to me in Bijlmer. She asked when i would end up in Dublin, i told her that it could be sooner than she thought. Little Samson was fine and growing. He had started smiling and had also started to recognize the mother. They had registered at the foreign office and their resident permit was being processed fast since she already had a resident sticker from Holland. It was good for them. I called Napoli and told Maria that i was in Belgium. I also told her that i was going to Paris. She asked that i come to Napoli instead. I promised her that i will soon be in Napoli but that i needed to visit France first. Three days after i hit Clement, the news started filtering out into Bijlmer. The Nigerian community got the wind from nowhere. It had become talk of the town. According to Robin, some unknown men had gone to Ijburg and shot Clement twice on both legs. The news was that the men had worn masks which prevented Clement from seeing their faces. The Amsterdam Police had put up €5000 for information that will lead them to the two men who had shot One Mr Clement. Despite the fact that Clement was a Dutch citizen, he was still a black Nigerian man. If the same thing had happened to a white Dutch citizen, the police would have put up more than €100,000. In other words, it meant that they didn’t really care what happened to a black man. They will eventually come up with a story on how it was a drug related shooting or anything that will dent the image of black people. I didn’t know what Clement told the police. He might have told them who i was and the police might have decided to use the two masked men as cover. It was true that i warned Clement not to say anything about me but i wasn’t sure he would do what i said. I might have also scared him much with the gun. Maybe he didn’t believe that i was capable of locating him with a gun. Maybe he must have thought that nothing would ever bring me to Ijburg where peasants like me were not allowed to reside. Whatever it was, i was already out of the Country and luckly enough for me, i had made a fantastic choice of going to a guest house where my documents were not required for admission. If i had chosen a hotel, they must have demanded for my international passport which would have been dangerous for me. My name was written all over the African Bulletin Newspaper and if the Police started hunting for me, they must have circulated the names around Holland and the neighbouring Countries. Since i haven’t heard any news connecting the shooting to me from Amsterdam, i assumed that Clement actually didn’t tell them about me. Five days after leaving Holland, i headed to Paris. I was required to purchase TGV train ticket with my passport and that was risky. Therefore i opted to use Snoda and pay more. I had walked down from my guest house around 7pm and walked to the cab standing near the place. ”I want to go to Paris” i had said to the cab man. He said he wasn’t going but had called another man whom he said specialized in long journeys. The new cab had arrived fifteen minutes later and said that i will pay €350 to Paris. I agreed and we left for Paris around 8:30. A toll gate welcomed us into France. The border near Lille which separated the two countries had been demolished. There was no immigration control until we got to Gare Du Nord magnificent train station. The largest in Europe. ” Anger is just anger. It isn’t good. It isn’t bad. It just is. What you do with it is what matters. It’s like anything else. You can use it to build or to destroy. You just have to make the choice” 1 Like 1 Share |
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