Caveat: The entries contained in this story are the intellectual property of the individual behind the Moniker 'Jaykan ©'and is Copyright protected under Local and International Copyright Laws and treaties. Any unauthorised print or reprint, reproduction, adaptation and/or plagiarism is prohibited. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express permission from the author. All characters are fictional and resemblances to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental.
September 2016

Fridays.. The buzz around town could barely be contained. As the city's inhabitants poured out of their different workplaces the numerous bars,eateries and clubs were quickly filled by revelers and fun seekers whose options of releasing the pent up energy contained in their bodies were manifested in drinking, eating and wild gyrations.
Among the numerous hotspots in town one of the most popular was along Marian road. It was a mini highway that served as an alternate and more hectic route to the larger and laid back Murtala Muhammad highway
Lots of eateries,bars,clubs and relaxation spots lined this long expanse of road and served as a veritable feast for the eyes and wallet. It was a cold evening, the day had begun with a customary downpour that had lasted intermittently for the better part of 6 hours. Thanks to the city's close proximity to the Atlantic ocean. As dusk began to fall a cold blast of air from the Atlantic blew across the city lowering both temperatures and inhibitions.
Young nubile girls from the city's universities could be seen trooping into various establishments either with their sweethearts or in groups of 3 or more hoping to catch either a well heeled younger man or an older moneybag for the night.

The taxi drew to a halt near the bank and a squat figure exited from the vehicle, he dipped his hands in his wallet, paid the driver and crossed the dual lanes of the road and disappeared into the club that was adjacent the bank
He wound his way through the gyrating bodies glistening with sweat in the middle of the floor and perched on top a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. A few shots and a couple of cigarettes later he turned his attention to the girls leaning casually in the darker recesses of the club house and viewed them critically. His roving eye caught a fat bottomed girl slowly moving to the beats emanating from the speakers and he made his move...

An hour later and he was still on his feet grinding, spurred on by the alcohol and the sight of the very impressive bottom pushing hard against his groin, as the music died down and the revelers went to catch some respite and free up space for the others who wanted to have a go he steered her to the bar and ordered a drink for them while simultaneously chatting her up.
As the conversation got deeper he fancied asking her to return home with him so they could spend the night together when he felt that familiar pressure caused by a full bladder and excused himself to take a leak
He took his time.. Checked a few messages on his phone and then headed back to the bar.

He was halfway there when he caught sight of something that made his blood boil with rage..

Another guy was chatting up his 'babe' and from the look of things she was obviously very interested in whatever he was telling her. He saw her take a cursory glance around obviously to check if he was around but he knew she wouldn't see him because at that very moment he had withdrawn into the shadows to see what was going to happen. She downed her drink and stood up in an obvious move for the exit.
Peter Ekpo had always had a short fuse even as a child. He could still remember his mother's words ringing in his ears twenty years ago as she surveyed the nasty gash on his cousins head where a large stone had left a very impressive injury.

'This ya hot temper go put you for wahala' the distraught woman had screamed as she tended to the injured cousin.

That ferocious temper of his had led him down a long road which had ended with him becoming a fully blooded member of one of Calabar's most vicious confraternities now as he neared his eruption point,he walked gingerly across the swathe of bodies and cut off his intended companion's route and that of her new sweetheart

He grabbed her in a viselike grip,his eyes burning and in a grating voice asked her where the hell she thought she was going

She's going home with me.. D'you have a problem with that ? The cool voice only served as fuel for his anger and he turned towards the impostor and addressed all six feet of him..

You dey craze to come carry my shima comot like that? No make me change am on top ya head now o

The six footer switched to pidgin too addressing the girl
'The nigga na your boyfriend?
No o.. Came the reply
Him just block me for here o accompanying it with the eye roll perfected by all females the world over.
Seeing that he had stolen the other man's thunder the six footer decided to make his victory absolute and made a mistake that proved to be fatal...

Let's get outta here drawled the six-footer steering the girl away from Peter. You should hang out less with ruffians like this and star...
An up swinging right hook ended any further talk from him as the shorter man threw a well aimed blow at his jaw releasing a molar or two. Stunned by the blow, the six-footer staggered backwards but he quickly regained his balance and threw a flurry of well aimed blows back at his assailant
Due to his disadvantage height wise Peter was getting the worse out of the fight as the punches connected with his face. Seeking a way out he launched himself through the air at his opponent connecting with his ribs and sending both of them crashing into a table laden with drinks. The girl had since melted away into the gathering crowd.

His hand wrapped itself round the neck of a Hennessey bottle and without any hesitation he brought it down on the head of his opponent.. The bottle didn't break. Down it went again.. The explosion was deafening. Loud enough to send the bouncers running towards the commotion. Peter extricated himself from the tangle and slipped into the crowd and out of the club leaving his opponent lying barely conscious on the floor

Saturday morning dawned bright and early.. For everyone except the six-footer... The bottle had caved his skull in causing a massive brain hemorrhage. He died a few minutes after his assailant had slipped out of the clubhouse. Word had spread, his body had been deposited in the mortuary and like the low ranking Nazi officer whose death had been a precursor to the Holocaust, his death would be the little spark that would grow into the wildfire that would turn the city into a bloody theatre

While Peter was carrying out his normal Saturday activities a group of young men were on his trail. They were the friends of the recently deceased six-footer and also members of one of calabar's most prominent gangs. They'd returned back to the club after depositing the body of their friend at the city morgue and had started making enquiries. They'd gleaned a bit of information from one of the girls who had hung out with peter a few times and had traced him to his area in the southern part of the city. They observed the neighbourhood and left without saying a word. Nobody took any notice of them