Episode 1

The office was so empty, you would hear the collapsing sound of a pin. The Doctor adjusts his sitting position so as to unveil the nature of my mother’s illness. Fear gripped me, sweat trickled down my face despite the chill of the room; an effect of the air conditioner hanging above the window behind the doctor’s chair. Just as the tension was becoming almost unbearable, the Doctor asked where my father was. I had thought to myself earlier that he would wonder why and how a young boy like me would stand in place of my father.

“You can talk to me doctor, I’m not a kid.” I said to him and pressed my face into my palms. “Besides, the man is in the lane, he died when I was 11.” The addition was meant to make him share what he was about to, without consciously belittling me. On the contrary, he said he was sorry for my catastrophe as if it mattered to me at the moment. He made the unfortunate gesture; his two palms behind the head. I shrugged, and asked about mother again. I was eager and nervous to know her condition as she has been bedridden for over 4 days.

“Son, I won’t lie to you. Your mom’s condition is quite critical but I strongly believe that she will be fine Insha Allah.” His soothing words gave me comfort and I believed my mother would be fine again, it is just a matter of time.

“Please go home and rest son, you’ve been here since dawn. And kindly bring her something to eat on your way back here.”

“Alright, sir.” I said, as I walked out of the Doctor’s office.



Ohh, I haven’t introduced myself... I’m so sorry, Na situation cause am. My name is Oluwatimileyin Turner, but you can call me Timmy Turner to make things easier. I’m a 100 Level student of University if Ilorin. This story you’re reading is my true life story. I grew up with a single parent. My Dad passed away when I was in JSS 1 and ever since then, my mother had to take care of my two brothers and I. Being the eldest son, I know how hard and difficult single parenting is and a typical example is a bird using a wing to fly. Almost impossible, isn’t it? Yeah that’s how it is. Life was so difficult for us with my mother raising 3 kids. She was a primary school teacher which wasn’t enough finance to cater for her boys and put food on the table. My mother still have 3 other side jobs aside being a teacher in which she engaged in daily, just to make ends meet.



My uncles and aunts from my paternal side weren’t helping matters at all. I could remember back in 2012, they accused my mother for his death. They clamoured that she was responsible for the death of my father. They called her a witch and all sorts of mean names. They took everything away from us. The car, the house, and the joint company which my mother and father operate together while he was alive. The confiscated everything from us.

Life was really tough after my father’s death. Being the first son, I had to hawk goods for my mother early in the morning before going to school and on weekends so as to put food on the table. I was exposed to the dreadful streets of Lagos at a very tender age.

“Timmy, you’ll become successful one day, and you will make me and your late father proud. I believe in you.” My mother would always say to me. Especially when I make huge sales.

EPISODE 2

As I exited the hospital, I went home to prepare lunch for my mother and siblings. While re-arranging the house, Feranmi, my youngest brother, approached me. He, in his young innocence asked when his mother would come back home.

“Soon, she’ll be back home very soon.” I said and landed a soft pat on his shoulder. I pressed his body gently to mine. We all ate silently until I broke the silence. “Wale, I’ll be back soon, I want to visit mom at the hospital. Please take care of Feranmi.” I carried the food flask which contained my mother’s food and headed for the hospital.



On getting to the hospital, I saw some set of nurses pushing a patient with the aid of a wheel out of the ward. The figure was covered with a white cloth from head to toe. I told myself, peradventure, the person is gripped with cold. I shrugged as I found my way to the ward where my mother had been admitted. I received the greatest shock of my life when I didn’t meet her there. I dropped the flask I clutched tightly in my hands and ran blindly to the Doctor’s office with tears in my eyes.



I met the doctor in his office with his hands akimbo, he tossed around his office higgledy piggledy. He paused when he saw me. “Oh Timmy, you’re back already?” He asked. He appeared quite bothered.

“Yes sir, I’m back. I’ve brought her food as you’d requested.

But sir, I can not find her in her ward when I got there. Where is she?” I asked. Tears began to stream down my face like the massive flooding of a shop.

“Oh Timmy, c’mon, you’re a man and you need not to worry about your mother this much.” He said while taking me out of his office. We headed towards another section of the hospital. A completely different part.


The doctor held my hand and squeezed it at intervals till we got to a big door with a ICU tag on the wall. Although, I didn’t know what it meant but I was pretty sure it was a medical term. After a short while, we got to where mom was laid. I let go of the Doctor’s hand and ran towards my mother. I called her and held her palms which I squeezed gently. “Mama, can you hear me?” I asked in an almost silent tone. After a while, she opened her eyes gently and smiled at me. Mama held my hands and said something which sounded more like a gibberish to me. After a brief moment, her voice was clearer. She said “Ayomi” which means “my joy.” Mama alone calls me by that name

“Mummy mi.” I said amidst my tears. I squeezed her palms together.

“Wipe your tears my boy, you won’t have any cause to cry by God’s grace.” she smirked and looked away.

“Amen” I said while I sobbed.

“I want you to take care of your younger ones, and also take care of yourself. I so much believe in you. You’ll make me and your father proud one day and we will be pleased with you.” Mama said and let go of my hand.

“Mummy, you’ll be fine. You’re going to take care of us. You’re not going to die. The doctor has assured me, he had said that you will be fine.”



My mother closed her eyes and didn’t answer me again. I started crying bitterly and refused to leave her side until the securities dragged me out of the room. I had wanted to touch her more but I couldn’t.



When it was 8:00pm that night, the doctor called me and told me he’s done for the day. He asked if I won’t mind if he drove me home which I budged to. The Doctor instructed me to visit the hospital early the next day.

EPISODE 3



The next morning was a Saturday, I woke up as early as 5:00am to make breakfast for the family. I arranged the house and swept the whole compound. When my siblings woke up, we all prayed for our late father to continually rest in peace while we prayed for mom’s quick recovery. After the lengthy morning devotion, I served my brothers breakfast. I served mom’s breakfast as well. I couldn’t eat because I had to wait upon the Lord with fasting and prayer for her quick recovery throughout the day.



I took my bath and headed for the hospital. It was a cold morning, the sky was filled with dark clouds like it wants to rain although it had rain earlier, in the night. The sun was nowhere to be found. The drainages were full to the brim with waters flooding every part of the street. I was about to start my journey to the hospital when my phone rang. I brought out the phone and realized Tumise was the caller. Tumise was my girlfriend, I clicked the green button.

“Happy birthday, baby!” one could feel the excitement in her voice.

I hesitated at first, I later replied her and wondered why she sounded so excited. I asked myself if the day was truly my birthday. I asked her in disbelief and she replied in the affirmative.

“Today is your birthday, love. Today, August 29th. Do you intend to play pranks on me?” I greeted her excitement with silence and she asked what was wrong with me.

“You’ve stopped talking with me for some days now” Tunmise added. I agreed with my instincts when it told me she felt disappointed.

“Oh, yes it’s my birthday.” I said feigning ecstasy. It was meant to ensure that I avoid her questions. I didn’t inform her that my mother is terribly sick.

“I’ll call you back baby... I have to do something important at the moment.”

“But we haven’t fin....”

Tunmise tried to continue the discussion but I hung up and zoomed off to the hospital.



At the hospital

The hospital environment seemed to change today unlike the other days. I said to myself as I went through the security checkpoint. I entered the main building, the smell of the environment wasn’t inviting at all. It was a bad a choking smell. I went straight to the nurse on duty that morning and stated my mission to her.

“Oh, good morning Timmy” she said. “Doctor Hassan would love to see you. He is in his office presently.” the nurse added while she pointed at Doctor Hassan’s office.



I walked towards the Doctor’s office. On entry, I was surprised to see him seated because he told me he won’t be coming to the hospital that Saturday. “I’m off duty,” I could remember he said it while driving me home the other night. Doctor Hassan greeted me warmly and offered me a seat right beside him.

“Timmy, I don’t have to keep you in darkness anymore.” He paused for a while before he continued. “You mother is affected by cancer, leukaemia, to be precise.” It appeared that it was as worse as he had concealed the true illness from me before this time. I repeated after him softly. Leukaemia. Leukaemia. Leukaemia.

“Leukaemia!” I yelled and gripped the shoulders of the chair I sat on.

Leukaemia was something I had read about in magazines, I had watched programs about it on TV and I had been taught in school. It was said to be a very dangerous kind of cancer. I never believed and I never thought, even for once, that my mother would battle a life threatening sickness like it. My heart shattered and felt pity for my mom for the first time.

How can this be true? When did she start her battle with leukaemia? Why didn’t she tell us about it? I asked myself a lot of questions in the few seconds of silence and I couldn’t conceive a clue to answering them.

“She has been battling with it for four years now.” Doctor Hassan added. Aside that, “your mother wished you a happy birthday and she wanted you to have this.”

He stood and walked towards his table. He brought out a box which I recognized instantly. It was her necklace box, her most prized possession. According to her, her mother, which is my maternal grandmother, gave it to her before giving up the ghost. It was a real gold jewel.



I collected the necklace from Doctor Hassan and kept it in my pocket.

“Can I see my mother, sir?” I asked, as I licked the tears on my face with the edge of my cloth. He sighed and shook his head for a moment before he finally opened up to me.

“You do not understand yet.” He paused and stared at my face. “We lost your mother to the cold hands of death this morning, we could not save her.”

“You lost who?” I screamed at him. I intended to be at ease but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.



The next three hours of my life that day wasn’t the one I would love to experience again. The pain of seeing someone you love die slowly right before you and you couldn’t help it was the worst pain one could feel. After much pleading, I was allowed to see her corpse. She had been covered already. I walked towards her. She laid there lifelessly. I gently removed the white robe from her face. She looked just beautiful and radiant like ever. Her brown skin glowed as if she just took her bath. Her body was cold.

I screamed. I could remember that I slapped and pinched her body but she didn’t wake up. She would not answer me. I called her name and her father’s, she didn’t wake up.

“Mummy, it is my birthday. My birthday is today.”

“I still want to take you to London, mom, I haven’t forgotten my promise of buying a 4matic Benz for you, mummmmy” I said and wailed bitterly but she would not move an inch, nor lift a finger. I fell to the ground and wept. That day, I wished tears could bring our dead people to life, and perhaps, my mother would come back to life.

EPISODE 4



Life hasn’t been the same ever since the death of my mother. Home hasn’t really been home when the loved one is gone. After my mother’s death on my birthday, August 29th, I wasn’t myself. I was rather a shell of myself. I often saw her smiling at me. Sometimes, she talked to me and pet my brothers. I told Doctor Hassan about it and he moved us out of the house to his residential house where he lived with his wife and daughter.



Her burial ceremony was scheduled to hold on a September 5th, a week after her death. Friends and families were present, distanced relatives also found their way to the burial ground. Each tried to do one thing or the other. Few of my friends from UNILORIN also graced the interment, I was actually surprised when I saw Ayewa Precious, the lady in Zoology, whom I had a misunderstanding with during schooldays.



At the graveside, dark clouds covered the surface of the sky, then it started drizzling. The pastor preached about living a good life. Afterwards, people said their good words about her when she was alive. I was called upon to read a poem in honour of my late mother, I read it with tears in my eyes.



“When I lay there beside you,

Would you feel me there?

My arms were wrapped around you,

And I was stroking your hair.



I was talking about all the good times,

For me they were every single day.

I wanted you to feel love and comfort,

And happiness in some way.



I watched your every breath,

And prayed that each won't your last.

The time we got to share together,

Went by too quick...Too fast.



I wanted you to wake up,

Please Mum...you can still open your eyes.

And tell me this is a nightmare,

And not our goodbyes.



As your last breath drew closer,

We lay silently together.

My heart continually breaking,

Because I wanted you forever.



Then there it was,

Your final breath of air.

I didn't want to believe it,

You were so cruel and unfair.



I held your beautiful face,

And prayed you'd breathe again.

I wasn't ready for you to go,

I couldn't admit that this was the end.



But then I realized that you were now in peace,

And you would not suffer anymore.

You were beginning the life of an Angel,

And your body would no longer be sore.



I held you close and squeezed you tight,

And tried to say goodbye.

I've lost my Mum and my number one best friend,

All my heart could do is cry.



I slowly got up,

I wanted so much to stay.

I leaned over and gave you a kiss,

It was so hard to walk away.



Mum, you are my entire world,

And I miss you very much.

I wish I could feel your lovable cuddle,

And your soft and gentle touch.



But for now I have to wait,

Until we meet again.

You will always be in my heart and thoughts,

My dear Mum and best friend.



Always and Forever,

Our hearts will always touch.

Always and Forever,

Your baby boy loves you so much.”



I finished the poem with a heavy heart that I didn’t know when I gave myself into a loud cry. My immediate brother did the same too except for Feranmi who wasn’t aware of what was going on at the moment.



I watched as my mom was lowered into the grave. Darkness hovered around her coffin as the sands poured on it. The Pastor said his memory verse, ‘ashes to ashes, sand to sand…’ and eventually prayed for the family.



After the interment, I sat right beside my mom’s grave which has now been covered with sand. She was buried right beside my late father’s grave. I could remember she once brought me to the particular spot and warned me about the dangers of smoking and how injurious it is to health.

“Your father died of lung cancer due to his high intakes of cigarettes. His lungs were damaged when he died.” She always told me, when she was alive, “Son, even when you become successful in life, don’t ever think of cigarettes and alcohol. Smokers are liable to die young.” Her words are now memories.



While thinking about my mother, I received a text. It was from Ayewa Precious, my friend in school. It read:



“I’m sorry about your mom’s death, may her soul Rest in Peace. I’ve gone back home when I didn’t see you after the interment... take care of yourself.



Xoxo

Precious”



When it was some minutes after 7, Doctor Hassan came to where I was sitting and said words of motivation and encouragements before taking my siblings and me to his residence.

EPISODE 5



Night turned to days, days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months after we moved into Doctor Hassan’s house. Everything went on smoothly. We lived in harmony. Doctor Hassan treated us like his kids. He made us the kids he never had. He registered my siblings in one of the top private schools in Lagos State. We went for picnics on the beach and also went shopping occasionally. Doctor Hassan made sure we weren’t lacking anything at all. To me, Doctor Hassan is the definition of a father I never had.



Tough times doesn’t last forever. They say, but good times does not last forever too. The mixture of both is what we call life. My happiness soon turned sour one evening when Mrs Hassan got a call from an unknown caller who later told her that Mr Hassan was involved in a ghastly motor accident and he was, at that period, battling with his life at Zenith Care Hospital. Mrs Hassan screamed and broke down in tears. She was disorganized totally. By the time we got to the hospital, Doctor Hassan was in a state of coma. The accident was indeed a fatal one: his vehicle was crushed beyond recognition and Doctor Hassan on the other hand suffered lot of bruises. Some of his bones were broken. I wondered how he survived the accident.



Around 8pm that night, Doctor Hassan kicked the bucket. He was buried the following day according to the Islamic rite. It was indeed a black week for us. The following week after Doctor Hassan’s death, his wife attitude changed towards my siblings and me. She would raise her voice at us at any given opportunity. She would hit me with any object she could lay her hands on at the moment. Mrs Hassan accused us of bringing bad luck into her family which was responsible for her husband’s death.



Things turned from bad to worse every day. Mrs Hassan turned me to a intimacy gadget so as to satisfy her sexual desire. She would have sex with me at any given opportunity. I could remember the first time it started, it was the same day she deflowered me and took my innocence away.

It was a Friday night, I was in the kitchen doing the dishes we had used for dinner. My brothers were fast asleep as I was the only one awake. Mrs Hassan who was in her early thirties crawled up to where I was with a transparent night gown which clearly revealed her bosoms and her thick thighs. Mrs Hassan had a big, round and robust breast which appeared perfect for her body. She had a glowing, fresh brown skin which made her very beautiful and attractive alongside her gap teeth and dimples.



“Timmy, come over to my room when you’re done. My waist is aching me seriously, you’ll help me to apply this balm on it” Mrs Hassan said while waving the balm at me so as to get my attention.

“Alright, ma.” I said with a bit of shock. Mrs Hassan hasn’t called me for such thing before. I said to myself almost loudly that she could hear me.



Mrs Hassan left the kitchen as soon as she delivered her message. I went to her room after I finished doing the dishes. Little did I know that Mrs Hassan had other plans for the night. By the time I got to her room, she had removed the night gown which she wore earlier and was only putting on a bikini pants and brassiere. She laid flat on her chest with her ass faced heaven.



I wanted to go back and tell her that it wasn’t appropriate seeing her unclad but she told me to do just as I was told. “I believe I know what is right and what is wrong.” She said and looked at me scornfully. She added that I should apply the balm on her waist. She tossed the balm over to me. I knelt down on the mattress right beside her and gently applied the balm on her body. I kept glancing at Mrs Hassan fresh, brown skin, spotless and her protruding bosoms while applying the balm on her waist. My joystick was gaining momentum gradually but Mrs Hassan couldn’t notice it because she faced the other side of the bed.

“Lead me not into temptations, oh lord” I prayed silently.



I continued with the back rubbing and massage still maintaining the waist region not until she was giving out a moan. She adjusted her pants and shifted it downwards a bit.

“Rub it down a little” she commanded, she sounded trembled, I was quite shocked with her weird requests.

“This isn’t right.” I hesitated and held my hands back in doubt. When Mrs Hassan noticed that I wasn’t doing as instructed, she gave me a hot slap and pulled me over herself. She started undressing herself that moment, she removed her hands and bra. I opened my mouth in disbelief and wanted to force my way out of her room.

“Where do you think you’re going to you son of a b**ch?” Mrs Hassan said as she pulled me back. She took off my clothes and tore my undies like a hungry lion who haven’t had a prey to feed on for years. She pushed me to the mattress and played with my dick till it got hard then she sat on it and started riding it like a cowgirl.



Mrs Hassan continued like that for about thirty minutes, she was moaning loudly and jerking seriously than before, she released some sorts of juices on my dick and slept on me.



During the whole process, I tried to plead with her but I couldn’t over-power her, she seemed to be more powerful than I was. I couldn’t help but to cry.



Mrs Hassan got up after she finished satisfying her selfish sexual desire. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’re still a Virgin. But you look grown and mature and you have a very good dick.”

“Timmy, it’s been years since I had a great fun like this. Mr Hassan is such a boring man when it comes to things like this and he’ll always get tired after 2 minutes of fucking me.” I felt that she only tried to justify her action.

“But you must not tell anyone about what happened between us tonight, not even your brothers. I’ll surely kill you if you do!” Those were Mrs Hassan’s threatening words to me that night.

EPISODE 6



Ever since the night Mrs Hassan deflowered me, and took my innocence away, she has been coming back over and over again for it like as if it’s her human right. Mrs Hassan would have sex with me at any given opportunity. In the morning before the morning devotion, in the afternoon as well, and mostly at night. I started losing weight and my legs started hurting so bad due to Mrs Hassan’s heavy weight and pressure in which she exert while having sex with me.



It got to a point I got tired of it all as the assault became too much. Became unbearable.

I have to end it all. I said to myself one night. I was overwhelmed with ideas on how to get myself out of the mess which Mrs Hassan had got herself interlocked with me. The first idea which came to my mind was to stab her to death before daybreak, and escape with my siblings afterwards. That would be before dawn. I then remembered the Lord’s Commandments in the book of Exodus, one which state that “thou shalt not kill.”

The second idea which came to my mind was to file a serious allegation against Mrs Hassan. But I thought to myself, who will believe me? This woman suffering from malady is blessed with money, tables might turn against me and I might be jailed for wrong accusation. I may even have to pay for stress, for defamation of repute or calumny. I yawned and tossed around my room idly. During this process, I conceived another idea which seemed to be the perfect one on my mind at that moment.



The plan was to take my brothers to a Motherless Baby Home while I move out of the house so as to start a new life elsewhere. I made plans ahead and it seemed perfect to me. I picked a date which appeared convenient for me, a day I am very sure Mrs Hassan would not be around. Some days after, I started executing my plans by packing my clothes, as much as my sibling’s gradually. Unknown to me that Mrs Hassan had been monitoring my movements and was aware of the whole plan I had in mind. At least, it eventually appeared that she knew the basics.. On the day I was supposed to leave Mrs Hassan’s house, the unexpected happened.



I was on my way out with my siblings, we were heading for the Motherless Baby Home. It was around 9:45 am in the morning. The giant black gate at the entrance of the mansion flung opened and a troop of armed policemen came into the residence with their pistols and AK47 guns pointed at my siblings and I. “Hands up.” One of them barked the order.

I dropped all my bags instantly, my siblings did the same. I was surprised and frozen with shock when Mrs Hassan came in at that particular moment in company of another police officer.

“Yes, he is the criminal.” Mrs Hassan announced, she positioned her hands akimbo.

“I am not a criminal.” It was hard to raise my head, but I tried. They could tell, my voice was timid, let alone me. I only made attempts to justify myself. I pointed at the direction of my baggage, “Here are my loads.” I stooped down and started to remove my clothes from the Ghana-must-go-bag which contained them.

“It will be better if you keep your mouth shut Mr man, or anything you say will be used against you in the court of law!” Another policeman added. I froze, honestly, scared at the uncertainty of their next action. I have seen movies about Nigerian police brutality. I knew I would wear the same trouser with them – while they seek a truth that does not exist.



I was handcuffed and led into a black Toyota pick-up vehicle they brought. I couldn’t stop them, but I begged that my siblings be kept save from this. They would not hearken after all. They are the men of the Police Force, Nigeria.

I was arraigned before the DPO that same day where I was questioned.

“Is it true that you stole some goods which belonged to Mrs Hassan Olasunkanmi in her apartment and intended to abscond with them? The DPO who seemed to be more reserved spoke to me. He asked this question calmly. I answered in the negative. “No sir, I am not a thief.” I stammered. “I ha..ve ne..ver been one.”

“Hmmm, although you don’t look like someone who would do such... but those who do it don’t write it on their foreheads.” He shook his head in disagreement. “You’ll have to remain here with us until we finish with our investigations” the DPO added.



The DPO’s words were short and simple... he spoke as if he will be arrested for the numbers of words he say.

“Sergeant Adeyemi!

“Shan sir!”

“Lock this young man in Cell Fourteen alongside Kesari and those internet fraudsters we arrested earlier.”

“Alright Oga” Sergeant Adeyemi dragged me by my trousers. He took me to the counter where my shirt was removed and my mobile phone was taken away before being transferred to Cell Fourteen.

EPISODE 7



I spent four days at Division F Police Station before I was finally released. I spent most of the days either weeping or brooding. Dark thoughts occasionally crossed my mind about my siblings, I’d asked unanswered questions about their welfare. I bothered most, with the uncertainty that they had been locked up as well. I also asked myself where they would be; I worried about what would be happening to them.

Sometimes, the other inmates would make fun of me and call me names. Names like “mummy’s boy” or “omije oju…” I wasn’t bothered because I knew that most of the inmates were mean by default. I knew because I had seen movies about them. It was only a boy of my age who showed interest in me. We would always try to start a conversation. Maybe he’s one of the internet fraudsters the DPO spoke about. I couldn’t ascertain that reality.



The second day I spent at Cell Fourteen wasn’t a day I will love to remember for the rest of my life. A young man came to meet me behind bars that evening. “hey man” he called at me and tried to force out a smile.

I did not even turn to look at him as I continued humming the Rock of Ages hymn. He tapped me on the shoulder a number of times before he decided to leave because I didn’t give him the required attention.



I stood at the same spot, behind the cell bars till night time. I probably expected a miracle or whatever you may deem fit to call it. Another guy walked up to me. Actually, a far older man. He appeared to be in his late thirties, or early forties.

“Hellooooo, Omo mummy.” He said and stretched the words. He spoke like our Nigerian comedian, Broda Shaggi.

“I don dey notice u since yesterday and I no fancy d way u dey do like fowl wey pikin die for hin hand. “u gaz free yourself and forget about everything. This place na place of joy... if u no happy for here, gbagbe you no fit happy for anywhere.” He said to me. I asked myself what was there to be excited about, and why particularly he was excited. But it wasn’t for me to bother about. I cast my eye on his face, I could not utter a word.

“Na me dem dey call Kesari. A.K.A. you see me, you die. I see you, you die... I be robbery gan. Dem talk say I be notorious armed robbery. But I sabi English o. I go school. I was apprehended last week while on an operation with my gang members. Na poor info we get, guy. But we gather dey my brother. We gather dey” Kesari said. He grinned and showed his yellow set of teeth.



I looked at him with so much displeasure that I didn’t know when a loud hiss escaped my mouth. Before I got to know what was happening, Kesari landed a hot slap on my face and rained punches on me. It took a while before the police officer on duty that night could intervene. I felt sharp pains on my body that night. I had dislocations as well, my waist hurt so badly that I couldn’t stand nor walk. I crawled to a corner of the dark cell where I sat and wept quietly for the rest of the night. Kesari and his accomplice, Skye, were laughing wildly at me. The young guy of my age who had come earlier did not laugh. He came to sympathize with me.

“I’m sorry about what happened. I wish I could help but I couldn’t. If I dared, we would get beaten together” he said, while he tried to stretch my legs.

“Thank you.”

“By the way, I am Samuel” he stretched his hands forward, towards me.

“My name is Timmy” I bone-face like someone who just fired bazooka. I refused to shake his hands. Disappointed, he withdrew his hand. “What brought you here, Timmy?” Samuel asked. He sounded like an inquisitive woman.

“Theft related issues.” I replied him and looked away.

“Wow! So you’re a thief?” Samuel asked looking at me straight in the eyes and glancing at Kesari secretly like we had something in common.

“I am not a thief” I fought back Samuel’s allegation “things just had to turn out this way.” I added.



“Well, mine is just a case of straying.” Samuel coughed then continued. “I was on my way to my place of work that morning when a SARS van pulled over beside me. I was dragged into the vehicle.” Samuel paused for a while, then he continued. “I was apprehended with thirteen others who were also on their way to work or home. We were told to pay a ransom of a hundred thousand naira or we would be detained although we did nothing wrong.” Samuel coughed.

“Those who could afford it were freed as soon as the money was transferred into the officer’s account and those of us who couldn’t afford it were detained. I tried to explain to them that I work in a junkyard and I have to walk miles every day while I push a cart around to gather used and condemn metals, but they turned deaf ears to all my pleas.” Samuel sighed. I instantly felt sorry for him. We were here by accident.



Samuel and I became friends that night and we were both freed the same day. Samuel had a similar story as mine, the only difference between us is that he never knew who his parents were, or what they looked like.



Samuel lived with his uncle in Egbe, Kogi State, until his uncle told him that he could no longer fend for him. He left Kogi, afterwards in search for a greener pasture. He said he heard that Lagos has work for people. He met himself in Lagos for such reason. He is a neat guy, one would not suspect he pushes cart to gather used metals. He told me he still dreams of becoming something better –

When I was freed from the police station, I dropped my siblings at the Motherless Baby Home as planned earlier while Samuel and I hunted for petty jobs so as to get engaged.

EPISODE 8



No matter what storm you face in life, always remember that God loves you and he will never abandon you. That has been the watchword that had been motivating me since I was young. It had kept me alive at each worse moment I face. The Lord is the refuge for the oppressed, a strong hold in times of troubles. Those who know your name trust in you, for you have never forsaken those who seek you diligently.

Psalm 9: 9-10 had been my watchword. I can proudly claim that it has been God since my family had deserted me. Since they’ve been stripped from me.



Samuel and I got a petty job to engage ourselves in so as to raise money to further our education. Samuel wanted to become a surgeon while I wanted to be become a lawyer. I wanted to advocate for people and fight for their right.



Samuel worked in a cafeteria as a manservant. He was in charge of washing the dishes. He ensured that the cafeteria is neat and well-kept always. Sometimes, Samuel would work overtime and serve as a delivery man.

I on the other hand, continued to hawk soft drinks in various streets of Lagos. I always made sure that I wake up as early as 4:30am so as to get the best goods and ice to keep the drinks cool.

My selling point was mostly on the dreaded highways with the congested often-experienced traffic. At times, I would stay at a crowded market. I hawk for ten or eleven hours in a day depending on the sales made before. Samuel and I would retire into an uncompleted building where we squat with Hausa motorcyclists. At the end of the day, I often gained a sum of three hundred naira. At times, I made up to five hundred naira. Samuel on the other hand receives a constant wages of two hundred and fifty naira daily. Aside feeding.



Things went on so well between Samuel and me. I did not expect that we would get along so well.

Day after day, week after weeks, months after months. Years scurried quickly. It passed us by. Samuel and I had saved quite a lot of money which could possibly see us through our first and second year in the university. When it was time to obtain UTME forms, Samuel began to exhibit irrationality. His behavior towards me changed drastically.



Samuel would go out for days without coming back home. He would not bother to call either. I, at that time, visited his place of work hoping to see him there but I was told he no longer comes to work and no one knew his whereabouts. All efforts to reach Samuel proved abortive until I saw him one day while hawking.



I almost couldn’t believe my eyes as I dropped the cooler. “Samuel!” I yelled. “Where did you get all these?” I said, pointing at the D&G T-shirt he wore and the Rolex oyster wristwatch he wore which would definitely cost a fortune.

“Samuel, where have you been all these while?”

“Where did you get the money to buy these expensive things on you?”

“C’mon, Timmy. Don’t create a scene right here. We are in the middle of the road.” He tried to keep his calm amidst all my incessant pull on his clothes.



“Let’s go home” I said... and headed for where we used to stay together.



* * * * * * * * * * *



“I can’t continue this way.” Samuel said, refusing to enter the uncompleted building where we once lived together.

“I found a new work which will benefit us, Timmy.” He paused and looked at me in the eye. “See, we’ve been working so hard all these years with nothing to show for it. We need to work smart.”

He paused again, and continued. “While I was away, I’ve been working as well. I met some guys who introduced me to it. And I’ve made thousands from it in just a few weeks. All you need to do is to chat with clients and do some stuffs. That’s all. No big deal.” Samuel said.



“What stuff?” It was the only clumsy word from his illustration, “what stuff, Samuel? You’re now into internet fraud and you feel it is the best thing for you is to introduce me to me as well, right?”



“Whatever you call it Timmy, but you need to join me .... Let’s make some cool cash, man.” Samuel said grinning wildly. “Look at me, man, look at me and look at yourself. Get a mirror, things are changing. Join me, bro. it’s easy.”



“No. No. No. I can’t do that!

It is illegal, and you know, bro.”



Samuel hushed me with a cunning grin. “Don’t tell me about illegality or legality. I believe I am more of a specialist than you when it comes to things like this. And all I am trying to do is to change your life for good, and that’s all.” Samuel said while walking towards a motorcycle opposite the building. He waved at a cyclist.



I could hardly believe my ears. “Samuel, what has come over you? Are you going to throw away all our dreams, your dreams, Samuel – do you want to throw it away for nothing?”

Samuel responded “it is not for nothing Timmy, we are driving towards the same destination. Mine is just in a different way. Before I’m smarter than you are. Remember, the goal is to be rich” he added “after all, you do say that you need to work smart, not hard. It is what I am doing.”



“Yes, I said so, and this isn’t the kind of smart work I spoke to you about.... stop misquoting my words” I yelled back. He was no longer beside me.



Samuel appeared to be already irritated at my concern. “Well, no problem. If you would rather labour and work so hard for something you could get easily, that’s your choice. I only want to show you the good life because we’ve struggled together before now.”



“At least I will be satisfied that it is the reward of my labour. I am not interested in your fraudulent good life and I am warning you, Samuel be carefu....” I couldn’t complete my statement. The motorcyclist zoomed off.

EPISODE 9



It was a new morning, the sun peeped behind the dark clouds. It will rain any time soon. I told myself. The environment was busy with activities as usual; students, traders, businessmen and women roamed the streets.



“Agege, Agege” a bus conductor barked as he tried to fill in the empty seats of the bus with passengers. I said a quiet word of prayer as I entered the commercial bus with my goods rested on my laps. The bus zoomed off as soon as the seats were filled up. When I got to Agege. I bounced out of the bus with care, with my goods. As if they were eggs. As I walked the busy streets of Agege, thoughts of Samuel came to my mind. But I had given up on him. He had finally made up his mind to continue with the ‘yahoo yahoo’ he was doing. He has got himself fixed. I told myself.



Life moves on, with or without Samuel. I consoled myself. I still had him in mind. I was concerned he would see the light but it may be too late. I was worried he would be arrested and imprisoned. I wanted to cross the road to the other side but I could not hear the honk of any car. I didn’t look at my left nor the right. The women at my behind attempted to drag me. They said they called me but I didn’t answer them. I walked along the road and clutched my bucket of cold water and soft drinks in my hand. I do not know what happened but I knew I fell. And I could not see anything. My eyes was opened to the dark in daylight.



I gained consciousness some hours later after being in a state of coma. I tried to sit up from the bed where I was laid but I felt a sharp pain in my head. I laid back.

“Hallelujahhhh.” A woman screamed beside me. I realized someone had been siting there overtime, seeing to my movements.

“What happened?” my voice muffled. The woman came near me when she realized the movement of my lips. I asked her again.

“It’s a long story dear... you should rest now. Let’s thank God that you’re awake.” The woman responded. “You had an accident. You could not open your eyes when we came to your aide; I and some market women.” She talked gently and rambled on. I realized I had fell suddenly. I realized I had closed my eye and saw darkness just that morning.

“Where am I?”



“Do not worry.” She laid her palms on my shoulder. “You must have been bothered about something heavy on your mind. You could not take caution because you did not know a car was heading toward you with a great speed. Thank God I slowed down before I reached you.” She held my hands and rubbed it against hers. ”It would have been worse.” She said, and looked away.



I felt sorry for her. I began to tell my story. My father’s death was I was eleven. My mother’s death of leukaemia. How I tended for my siblings before Dr Hassan’s death and how I went to the police cell. ”I have to hawk goods daily so as to provide for my brothers in the Motherless Baby Home and also save for my university education. I am sorry I bumped into your car –“

“So you have plans for the furtherance of your education?”

“Yes ma, I do. I was already in my 100 Level before my mother passed away and I could not further my education since then. I was advised to withdraw by the university management after being absent in school for 7 months” I said. Drenched in my tears now.

“Ohh, that’s sad. May your parents rest in perfect peace.

Where do you live, boy?”

“I live in an uncompleted building. I squat with motorcyclists till I can sort myself out.”

“That’s serious.” she sighed.” Would you mind coming home with me when you’re eventually discharged? At least, for the night.”

I looked at her eye and I withdrew my hand. “You will be fine, boy. Will you stay with me?”

I knew I would stammer. I was not afraid, but I was worried I will not be accepted. Or I will be made to go through the same thing I passed through at Mrs Hassan’s house.

“Alr…ight, all riiight, ma.” I said those words one after the other.



Later that evening, the Doctor came to check on me. He gave me a few drugs to use and I was discharged afterwards. He added that I must be brought to the hospital after 3 days till my wounds are healed.



We headed out of the hospital while the doctor saw us off the park. The woman drove me to her house. It was quite a long drive but the woman made me feel comfortable. She chatted with me, she asked me about girls and made me laugh to her jokes.



The woman introduced herself as Mrs Adebowale. She was a single parent raising a child. Her husband left her for another woman and she hasn’t remarried afterwards.

We got to her house at around 8:30pm in the night. It was a mansion situated at Lekki Phase Two. I met with her daughter who introduced herself as Ayokanmi. She was almost the same age as mine. I’m only four months older than her. She is beautiful. I told myself when I saw her.



I found out – after about a month – that she was an aspirant of a university. She wanted to study Plant Biology. We started attending UTME lessons together.... we spent most of our times studying together. We played video games often too.

Ayokanmi and I sat for the UTME examination and passed in flying colours. Ayokanmi had a composite score of 270% while I scored 272%



Ayokanmi and I were admitted into the university, I was admitted to study Law while she was admitted to study Plant Biology.



*************

Days in the university went quick. When Ayokanmi was in her final year, I was in my penultimate. She wrote her final examinations. And while she graduated, I was in my final year.

On her convocation ceremony day, I proposed to her. I was actually afraid that while she go for her service year, someone would take her from me.

She was before her friends and my friends. A lot of things rushed through my mind. I had always consoled myself that she liked me, not until she introduced me to a guy she referred as her boy lover when she got to her 200 level. It was at the middle of her penultimate year that they ended things and I became her shoulder to lean on. I remember the first time we kissed. I smiled and wanted to kiss her again.

I eventually brought out the rings. I said the words. She pressed me to her breast and said yes.

I lowered my hands to her waist and pressed her body into mine. Her mother said I wanted to squeeze her to death. The gathering roared with laughter.



We eventually got married 3 years after my Law School year.

EPISODE 10



There is a light at the end of every tunnel although I reached a point in my life that I searched desperately for that light but I could not see any. It was totally out of sight. Indeed, life takes us through dark tunnels and sometimes we aren’t sure if we’ll even see the light. Despite all the challenges, against all odds, always find a reason to live.



Everything worked well for me eventually. I am definitely one of the best lawyers in Nigeria and my wife, Ayokanmi is a scientist and an international businesswoman. She established big shops in about 4 states in Nigeria and had many more in diaspora. She sold fabrics, clothes and jewelleries. Everything eventually fell into place.



I was overwhelmed with sadness when I realized that I would be going to Agodi prison in few days. I had tried my possible best in court but the charges against my client was more than I could appeal for. Samuel had lost at the Federal High Court. I thought I could take up his case for appeal but I realized he cannot win. All investigations proved him a criminal. The 3rd of September would be his birthday. Which was also the day I would be visiting him in prison.



I had not missed visiting him on his birthdays for the past 4 years when I heard his case. Samuel was always eager to find out if things were going on well for me. While I was ecstatic to tell him about the new improvements and the achievement my family made, I felt bad that he was in seclusion. And I wished he had listened to me many years ago.



We didn’t plan to live like this. Samuel had wanted to be one of the best surgeon in the country. He wanted to be my bride’s man although he wanted us to get married on the same day. He said we would switch turns when we need to take the vows. I liked him. I missed him.



He had met with bad friends and they had changed his path. He is now unfortunate. He was engaged in an illegal deal with a business he and his secret friends created. The business duped a big company and they were eventually caught. This opened other reports they had not been prosecuted for before. The case was judged together with previous offences. It was tragic, when the judge announced, that he will be jailed for years with hard labour.



I had promised Samuel to always be there for him. It was the promise I made to him the first time I visited him in prison. It is that same promise that will make me visit him again.



THE END

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.