₦airaland Forum

macpetrus:
Clement weds Dolapo... End of story...
Two update for the Day?

Is that what you envisaged? Well, since I started this story, so many people have predicted the next course the story would take, but their predictions were not always right. Maybe, you'll join those who have predicted wrongly.
I just hope you'll follow the story to the end, then see what eventually happens.

kocvalour:
dunno why an almighty president should be impeached when the majority is with him... He should always find a way of escape


Cool story.. Clement should quit

Bro, the majority could be on the president's side and yet he could still be impeached. Remember, he was charged with 57 inpeachable offences, that's too much man! He needed to win the majority to his side by expertly winning the majority to his side, remember, evidences were well presented and documented.
You can ask Mr Murtala Nyanko of Adamawa how he was impeached sometimes this year.
No offence meant to the office or camp of the former governor.

That would be all for today. Remember, its christmas, I only managed to type and drop these two updates.
Updates resumes tomorrow, oh! Boxing day? Lets wait and see how things turn out.
Goodnight!

--continuation--
Clement has refused to return home or go back to the office right after his wife was transported to a motuary. Efforts made by Mike and Ngozi to make him go with them or at least sit back at home died on arrival.
He couldn't place the force that was controlling him, because the next minute after Ngozi came out with Amanda, he was out of the house and before anybody could catch up with him, he had driven off furiously with no plan of returning home or to his job anytime soon.
Truely, there seems to be solace in drinking. He felt peace in the past five hours since he had been sitting in the bar. His mind was less foggy and less occupied as he drank with reckless abandon, such that everyone in the bar looked at him in total dismay with the way he drank.
He knew he deserved a world recognition for the number of bottles he had consumed, for someone drinking bear for the first time in his life, it was a remarkable feat to achieve.
"Thank you very much sir for you kindness." One of guys whose bill he footed came forward to thank him.
"Oh! Its.. nothing." He said absent-mindedly.
"I still have to thank you."
"Join me here." Clement said.
The guy, as if being controlled quickly removed a chair and sat down opposite a well respected police officer who as a result of his tattered dressing, no one could identify him.
"Barman, give my friend something to drink." He said at the top of his voice.
"Thank you sir. May God continue to bless you." The guy said once again.
Clement smiled, who blessed him in the first place? Was it not God. Who blessed his job and made everything he did successful? Was it not this same God? Who made him meet Rachel? It was God. Who blessed their union? He could remember the day they were both exchanging marital vows in the presence of great people from far and near, including the president of the federal republic of Nigeria, about twenty one state governors and their deputies, about seventy senators, two hundred federal honourables, every minister in the president's cabinet, even world leaders were all present at him wedding, those who couldn't make it to church, either because they were sinners and are afraid to enter the church all made it up by gracing the reception. He could remember the priest calling on God to bless the union, bless the marriage and other prayers which all had the name of God in them. He didn't remember the priest saying anything like God should take his wife after two years, so why should his wife die now?
"What's your name my friend?" He asked.
"I am Roland." The guy replied.
He had switched on his observative sense right from the time he entered the bar, there seemed to be equality between everybody. The way a man who came in his car would exchange pleasantries with a wretched looking man will make one wonder if they both owned the car or both are wretched.
With the little senses he had left in him, he knew he would be at least a decade older than the guy in front of him, but he doesn't seem to care.
He thought about his little daughter. Did he just behave like the best dad he ought to be? He shouldn't have left home that way and even if he wanted to leave home, he shouldn't have driven himself to a bar to drink.
He was sure Amanda is fine, Ngozi will definitely take good care of her, but with what? He couldn't say.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A family doesn't neccessarily mean someone related to another by blood or by marriage. Family simply symbolises love and unity.
Dolapo might have lost the first family given to her by God, but she miraculously found herself in another family, all thanks to late Dayo, whose parents took her in and caterd for her until Dayo died. She lost her foster family too and miraculously, she found another family, all thank to Inspector Clement. Maybe her name should have been miracle.
Even if her relationship with Mrs Rachel Obi-Patrick has not been rossy, she still loved her because she made her feel at home the first time they met. She couldn't fathom what took her out of the hospital, but the moment she heard that Rachel was killed, she took a cab and came home immediately where she had been with Ngozi and little Amanda.
"Hello darling. I won't be coming home tonight. Clement is not home and I need to stay with his baby." Ngozi said as she walked into the kitchen where an emotionally traumatised Dolapo was, boiling water with no idea of what she would do with the water. She just felt the need to boil water.
"That's my fiancee." She heard Ngozi say a minute later.
Really? But she didn't remember asking her who the caller was. Maybe she had said something prior to her saying it was her fiancee. She must have lost her mind completely.
First, it was Darasimi, then Tolani and now Rachel in just seventy two hours. And God is somewhere up there watching.

--to be continued--

--continuation--
Clement considered taking the kitchen door into the house to catch whoever was in the house unawares, but on a second thought, he realised that the kitchen door would probably be locked from inside, thereby making it impossible for him to enter.
He diverted towards the main entrance. He pushed the door open and eased himself in without making a sound. His fears was making him grow weak, because by this time, little Amanda's cries were getting louder.
"Rachel." He called.
Maybe Rachel had left him like he ordered when he was leaving the house five minutes ago.
He rubbed his eyes to confirm if he was dreaming or seeing it live. Rachel was lying down in her own pool of blood.
"Rachel, who did this to you?" He sreamed as he jumped a couch and squatted on the floor beside her.
"Tak to me, what happened?" He placed his left ear on her chest, but he couldn't feel her heartbeat. He rememebered he has once damaged his left ear as a kid, maybe it was malfunctioning again, he placed his right ear, no difference still.
He violently shook his wife as tears rolled down his cheeks, so many thoughts ran through his mind that moment. He blamed himself for his wife's death, how he wished he had stayed a bit longer with her, instead of walking out of the house, but he couldn't stand another minute with her beside him which was why he left. How he wished he had taken his time to beat her some more, how he wished he had beaten her until she passed out, then he can drive her to the hospital and thereby making it impossible for her killers to get her. He felt empty that moment, he could feel his world crumbling at his feet, and he was watching without being able to do anything to probably avert the situation or reduce the damages done. If he as a police inspector who has been responsible for stopping many criminal activities, bringing law offenders to book, securing the lives of millions of Nigeria by foiling terrorist attack couldn't save his wife. Just one person we are talking about here, the most important person to him, his life partner, the mother of his kids.
Who could have done this to him? Who could have shattered his hopes of a much better tomorrow? Who could have decided that killing his wife was the best way to get at him? Why not kill him instead and spare his wife so that she would be able to take care of the seven day old Amanda.
He thought about his life right from when he could differentiate between good and bad, right and wrong, evil and good. He remembered that the majority of his life was lived without a female companion, he was seperated from his mother and sister right very young, he attended a boys only secondary school in Nigeria, attended the University of Lagos from home, giving him no chance to make friends, he did his youth service in Lagos, all from home except the three weeks orientation camp which was a death camp for him. Then proceeded to a criminology and intelligence institution in the United states, where he met about a hundred classmates and friends, among which one hundred and seventy were boys and the megre thirty were girls who were tomboyish and acted like boys. So it was all living with boys in his three years stay in the states.
Sirens sounded in front of his house and a few seconds later, he could hear footsteps trottling towards the front and back doors of the house.
"Clement, what's going on?" Ngozi asked.
Clement stood up and turned to face his greatest companions both in and out of work, the only trusted friends he had, the ones who understood him, even though he was about four years older than Ngozi, a total of seven years was seperating him and Mike.
"I just don't understand." He replied.
It was a wide believe among the yorubas, an ethnic group in the south-western Nigeria, that a man shouldn't cry over any misfortune that befell him. But it seemed they forgot to give thorough explainations. A man who looses his mobile phone shouldn't cry, but a man who looses his business has every reason to cry.
Ngozi left Clement and other police officers as well as the medical team which has been summoned immediately. She returned a few seconds later with a crying Amanda in her arms.
It was then Clement remembered he was a father, no one paid attention to the cries until Ngozi, the only woman present went in to bring her out.

--to be continued--

Well, today is Christmas and that explains why I have been away. I'll update later in the night by God's grace.
Omotalkie, Lilyomi, onemansquad, MhizEnkay, Tecno4life, Bluestarry, bossricky, Bg14, Stuff46, Uthman51, Moyosi, shankies215, Melancholy, ReLaTE, Rounakid, Fatalveli, Niwdog and several others who have commented so far today.
---
MhizEnkay: My not replying you is not intentional. Try to understand, I can't reply everybody here. I hope you forgive me.

Tobilastik:
sir D and 2 all readers ...sorry for derailing d thread ...
d guy pushed me to d wall

No wahala. We are cool now

Update will definitely drop when I am done typing. Some things are actually delaying me.

Here is the result of the Nairaland monthly award for the month of December. Unfortunately Tiff lost out, but came second. As a result of you guys voting late, it cost Tiffany the monetery prize. But she'll definitely get something.

post=29169840:
Before the results, I would like to hear suggestions from everyone and anyone on this section on how to make this award better, without error, fear or favour in the coming year.. So Don't just be a participant, your votes and your voice counts.

***
Now the results:

Bluestarry - 3
TheRock555 - 94
Julietanka - 1
candy- 21
Tiffanyj - 79
Oma4u - 2
prettyspicey - 3
exislove - 2
kingzpen- 7
hazardous - 1
kayemjay - 1
repogirl - 6
safarigirl - 4
Julietakk - 3
shaxee - 3
Larrysun - 1
Touchemeder - 2
Almacherish - 1

The winner: Therock555! Congratulations to you!

We can do better next month.

adewealth027:
Thanks my Love

Lobatan!

Well, the satisfaction of my readers should be my major concern and I can't because of two people disappoint hundreds of people.
You know as e dey go na, person suppose dey do shakara sometyms. Why will I suspend the story? I dey mad?
Update resumes when I am done with the works on my table.
PEACE is the word.

florjay:
Oga D, u are a professional writer made in heaven


More GB to ur 4one
More ororo to ur elbow


I love the suspense, emotional twist and turns
coupled with the loyalty u av to ur readers by updating regularly and most times lengthily, this captivates the interest of the readers and encourages to keep reading till the end.

I hereby humbly request that u be be my mentor in writing

Please pride goes before destruction, but u are to good

mmmmuuuah

Well, I really appreciate all you said, but permit me to reject the request about me being your mentor in writing. I am still a learner, learning from great writers, so I am not qualified to be a mentor yet. Shey you get? The best we can both do is to learn together from the great writers.
But I can be a critique, start a story and I'll point out where you need to improve provided I am not making such mistakes in my stories. You get the drift?

Tobilastik and onemansquad. Its hight time you two stopped your fight. Any abusive word from you, you will be reported.
We are here to read. Lets read and maintain peace.

bdabuwa:
Nice update, but there is no where in the north that shari'a permit a man to beat his wife

Well I am not from the north, so I know nothing about Sharia law or the norms and culture over there. My assumption was based on tv programme I watched somtimes ago, but that's not why we are here.
I will edit that part. And to my brothers and sisters from the north, abeg no vex.
Bdabuwa, no vex abeg.

--continuation--
Ngozi walked into Jay's cell. And switched on the flourescent bulb thereby illuminating the whole room.
"Hey!" He said on sighting her.
Ngozi ignored him as he walked towards him on the chair where he was seated and binded.
"Won't you answer my greeting?" Jay asked smiling.
What's making him happy? What's amusing his useless self? When you have been charged with murder and terrorism, whose punishment is death, you are here smiling. She thought as she walked towards him and started tearing of his shirt.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" He asked, an alarmed look on his face, but there was nothing he could do. He was currently immobile.
"What does it look like?" She asked rhetorically, but suprisingly he managed and answer.
"You are tearing of my shirt? Do you want to strip me of my clothes?" He asked.
"Just watch me." She said and with one mighty pull, the buttons on his shirt came down at once and his bare chest came into view.
Jay stared into his sister's eyes for answers or clues on whatever she was looking for.
"What does this mark stand for?" She asked.
Since she concluded that Kelvin was somehow connected to the Khal corp, she had been tempted to call him and ask him if truely he knew anything about the emergence and existence of the largest and the richest insurgent group in Africa, according to forbes magazine. Its weird isn't it? Why would a group of people sit down around a table and draft the list of richest terrorist groups in the continent Africa? They are jobless right? But mere sitting down and drafting the list is a job.
Even though she would still call Kelvin and interrogate him over the phone, she needed to get first hand knowledge about him from Jay, if truely he belonged to Khal corp. She knew it is unethical of her to ask a terrorist if he is one, who would be so silly to declare himself a terrorist to even his best friends, not to talk of a police officer.
"What does this mark represent?" She asked once again producing a sharp kitchen knife and flashing it accross his face.
"I won't hesitate to us this on you. Tell me about the mark. I know it was given to you at the Khal corp, because I have seen it on Viktor's body and something similar to it on Habeeb's shoulder. Now tell me everything, and who is this Danger-kelv of a man?"
Since she had seen the acronym D-K on Kelvin's singlets and she had heard of a terrorist who goes by the name Danger-kelv and had suspected Kelvin to be a terrorist, she had stringed up everything and had formed a perfect tactics to stop the Khal corp. But first things first, she needed to know more about the mark which she had seen something similar on Kelvin's body and then know more about Danger-kelv. No doubt, the 'Kelv' stands for Kelvin.
But which Kelvin?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Clement pulled up in front of the gate and walked up to the pedestrian gate, but to his utmost suprise, the gate was left opened.
Where is Akpan? Why would he leave the gate unclosed? Were the questions on his mind as he walked into the compound where everything was normal except for the silence that enveloped the compound. It was quite unusual for the compound to be this silent at the time of the day, because the presence of Akpan alone in the compound will always produce sounds. He could either be whistiling or singing, at times, he listen to his transistor radio. Anything that could make sounds and keep everywhere lively can be found on Akpan.
"Akpan." He called as he knocked on his door, but go no response, not even a sign of him sleeping, because Akpan was a loud sleeper who would snore from the moment he shut his eyes till when he opens it. And to say it is impossible for someone to have fallen asleep between the moment he left the house five minutes ago and now that he is back. So where could he have gone to?
He pushed the door into his house open and it was empty, save for his belongings, about five transistor radios, both functioning and malfunctioning ones, his phone, a television, a DVD, his bed, his bag of clothes and a bucket. He walked out of his room and made for the main house, then he got the shocker of his life when he saw Akpan's lifeless body lying by the side of his house with blood oozing from the back of his neck.
Immediately he removed his gun and bent down beside the corpse. He felt his pulse, but it was lifeless. No doubt, Akpan is dead.
He picked up his phone and dialled Ngozi's number.
"Hey Ngo, arrange a backup team and drive down to my house. My gateman has been killed by only God knows who..." He was saying, but a baby's sharp cry made him drop the phone as he ran towards the main house.

--to be continued--

Tobilastik:
it is only a fool that will say:



mehn.... I hate dz guy with passion, ve been reading his comment so far ...so since u ve shown us hw heartless u re, has it bring any positive change to ur life?
mtcheew

Bro, its not up to that yet. We are here to read, its just a story. Let it slide, okay?

--*--
Chief Obi Patrick was seated in his living room watching the tv, something he hadn't done in months. He picked up the remote and tuned to his favourite channel, 'The Parliament 1.' A channel where live broadcast of the proceedings in the National and the state assemblies are being shown.
The first thing he noticed got his heart pumping excess amount of blood, it was a combined sitting of the two assemblies at the National level, that is, the senate and the house of reps members, presided over by the Senate president and deputised by the speaker, house of representatives.
What could have made them(the lawmakers) want to have a combined sitting? It only happens once in a blue moon, when an urgent decision, a matter of National security, development is about to be taken and they need the consent of the two chambers on the issue.
The sullen look on the lawmaker's faces another thing he notice. Of the five hundred lawmakers sitting down in the house, the over three hundred lawmakers in both chambers from the ruling party wore the sullen look, including the senate president and the deputy senate president.
Even though his greatest fear is about to be taken care of, he had ordered some men to go and eliminate Rachel before she mouth whatever secret she has to someone else. He also had a considerable amount of men searching around for Onome, the runaway maid. And thanks to Abdul Maleek who released his men, and he instructed them to check from one motor park to the otherr, and even though there had been no significant success, he was convinced that Onome was still in Lagos.
Then his eyes fell on the special adviser to the president of media and publicity standing before the distinguished and honourable house representing the president of the federal republic of Nigeria, as well as the secretary to the federal government. No doubt, the president's impeachment notice was being responded to.
He picked up his phone and dialled the president's line.
"Hello, Mr President." He said immediately the call was answered.
"The president is in the middle of something. He couldn't recieve calls as we speak." The president's ever present handler of phones replied and hung up.
Chief Patrick thought he should have introduced himself first before any other thing, but there is no point crying over spilt milk.
He dialled another number and waited for it to get connected.
"Hello madam." He said.
"Hello chief pat." A feminine voice replied.
"I called the president now and I was told he couldn't pick calls." Chief Patrick said.
"Aren't you watching? Everyone is in a bad mood presently, I even had to cancel my proposed trip to Bangkok for the annual communication summit, the minister for information would be representing me." The lady explained.
"I am watching also, that was why I wanted to call the president. But madam, what are our chances?" Chief Patrick asked.
"Sincerly speaking I don't know. He was charged with fifty seven impeachable offences, I don't see him getting out of it, but the senate president gave us his word, things would work our way." The woman explained.
"Alright. My regards to the president." With this he hung up.
If the first lady, a woman of pride, an egocentric woman who would stop at nothing to get whatever she wanted, she doesn't get worn out, she has been the one instilling confidence in the president, if she could speak that way, then something is wrong.
From the look of things in the house, the senate president seemed to have withdrawn into an invisible shell as he allowed the speaker of the house of representative to take charge and preside over the house, even though they still regarded him in every points raised, but he responded to none.
No doubt, the president would be impeached and everyone will be in trouble, because as soon as the president leaves office, he would be arrested and he would be forced to mention his accomplices, among which he was one. He needed to do something fast.
He picked his phone one again and dialled the vice president's private residence line.
"Hello, are you watching proceedings from the house?" Chief Patrick asked.
The response he got suprised him even to the marrow. The vice president bursted into laughter and some other people from his end joined.
"Do you take me for a fool? Patrick! You and your boy sent and assassin after me at the stadium a few months ago. Do you think I will just sit back and watch?"
"Maybe they thought you have no political tactics." Another familiar voice said.
"Gulak?" Chief Patrick asked.
"Give me one reason why my candidates won't be at the senate next year and you in jail." He mocked.
No doubt, Gulak and the vice president has been working together for a very long time.
Truely, politics is a game where trust is not needed, conscience is a sin, just play the game and make sure you are unhurt. Anyone who gets hurt is not your business.
-tbc-

--continuation--
Kelvin and his men walked into the living room after they had taken care of Akpan who was caught unawares and didn't put up a bit a resistance as he was stangled and stabbed to death.
"Peace be unto this house." Kelvin said, typical of Nigerian pastors.
Rachel quickly stood up and cleaned her face with the hem of her blouse, alas, it was an August visitor, the least expected person at the moment. Her brother-in-law.
"Kelv, whatsup?" She managed to ask with a smile. The smile which soon turned to a frown and a look of fright when she saw the men who walked in after Kelvin.
Their apearances was the reason why she was afraid, she knew they can't possibly be here to harm her, when her only brother-in-law was among them.
"Have you sits. What can I offer you?" She asked. Maybe she thought they were here to congratulate her on her safe delivery.
"What do you all want guys?" Kelvin asked.
The guys numbering up to four, including Hakym voted and the majority voted for red wine which Rachel at once disapeeared towards the bar or the kitchen.
She returned two minutes later with a bottle of wine and five glass cups which she dropped on a stool before them.
"Do you mind if I open the drink for you guys?" She asked.
"Please do." Hakym replied.
She bent down and carefully opened the wine bottle.
"So Kelv, what brings you here?" She asked after taking a sit opposite theirs.
"We came on the orders of some great people you have wronged in this country." Kelvin began.
"I didn't wrong anybody?" She asked.
"Well, let me break it down. You made a copy of a confidential file and you kept it to yourself with the aim of showing it to the police. We from Khal corp has been sent to punish you for tampering with Chief Obi Patrick's privacy." Kelvin explained.
Understanding where they were driving at. So Kelvin is a terrorist?
"Drop you phone here." Hakym ordered pointing to the stool which had only a bottle of wine and five wine cups. She dropped her phone amidst the cups.
"We've been asked to kill you because you are an enemy and we'l do just that." Kelvin said.
"I trust me Father-in-law, he won't do such to me." She replied confidently, even though she still thought it was a joke.
Until Kelvin pulled out his 9mm rovolver was when she knew they had a lot of strategies to get anybody they so wish. Just last week, Sylvester's wife was killed and this week, its her turn afterall.
Kelvin inched closer towards her.
"Now, I can have my way with you before taking your miserable life." He said as he began tearing off her cloth with over three guns pointed at her.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Clement brought his car to a halt at the entrance of the estate and thought about his actions in the last five minutes or more. Even if he was under the influence of a certain spell or the other it doesn't warrant that he hit his wife, a resolution he had made right from the time he had reached puberty, which was why in his almost a decade of working as a professional police officer, he had never personally handled a female criminal case, because he knew there is no way you'd question a criminal without resorting to violence to make them confess. Now, he did not beat a criminal, but his own wife. And the last time he checked his Bio, he was from the East and not the North where 'sharia' permits a man to beat his wife if she offends him.
He needed to make things right immediately. He concluded as he ignited the car and drove forward to turn.
What was Akpan talking about when he was leaving? Was another question on his mind. Well, he'll find out in due time.

--to be continued--