₦airaland Forum

Damilgodwin:
Please Boss Darous you will just have to re-edit ooo. Nothing must happen to my calm jude

if you want to save your favourite character, send 2 BTC to my wallet 😀😀😀 or I'll start killing them one by one... 😀😀😀

TheBlessedMAN:
if you want to save your favourite character, send 2 BTC to my wallet 😀😀😀 or I'll start killing them one by one... 😀😀😀

E don enter page 5 o TBM

Typicool8:
E don enter page 5 o TBM

😀😀😀😀😀.


From now on, Na two episode per page. It now depends on you guys how you want this story to be run. Either fast or slow. But don't worry, the next update will drop today.

TheBlessedMAN:
if you want to save your favourite character, send 2 BTC to my wallet 😀😀😀 or I'll start killing them one by one... 😀😀😀

Hmmm, e b like say I get anti-dote ooo😁😁, no worries. Kill them, I go use Tiffany beauty for the waking up process 😁😁

We are now in page 5

Like I said, each page will now consist of 2 episodes. How fast we move on this story now largely depends on your reactions. I'll try my best to keep my own end of the bargain. I hope you do yours. Fill the pages with likes and comments. They are fuel. I'm telling you.
Happy weekend guys.


Episode 15 – Beginning of the End

The whole bar froze. Nobody made a sound. Even the music playing from the small speaker at the corner suddenly sounded too loud.

Cynthia’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Answer me!" she thundered. "Toyosi is her name? The girl you’ve been cheating on me with, Jude?”

She began walking towards us, slow, steady, each step heavier than the last. The knife in her right hand caught the dim light, flashing like it was alive. Her eyes—two burning flames—were fixed only on Jude.

Kenny, ever the clown, tried to force a joke.
“Ah ah, Cynthia, calm down nah. You don dey watch too much African Magic. Na film you dey act?”

We almost sighed in relief—almost. Until Cynthia laughed.

It wasn’t a laugh of someone amused. It was sharp, cold, and short, the kind of laugh that makes your blood crawl. Suddenly, every single one of us went stiff. Even Kenny swallowed hard, his smile dying on his lips.

“You… Kenny,” she hissed, her voice shaking with fury. “You want to use this to catch cruise? You think this is a joke?”

Before anyone could answer, she snatched up an empty beer bottle from a nearby table. The sound of glass exploding on the tiled floor made all of us jump like school kids caught stealing meat from the pot. Our hearts pounded; the air in the room turned heavy.

“Does that look like I’m here to joke?” she screamed. Her chest was rising and falling as if her lungs were on fire. “I’ve been standing there." She pointed at the window close to where we sat. "for the past five minutes… listening to all of you.”

Nobody dared move. Nobody dared speak. The rage in her eyes wasn’t normal—it was wild, something words could never fully capture.

She raised the broken neck of the bottle in one hand, the knife still in the other. Our skin prickled with goosebumps.
The whole bar had already scattered. Customers ran out, chairs fell, bottles rolled on the floor.
But we were pinned. That corner of the bar was where we always sat, And now, there was no way out. We couldn’t even try the window—iron burglary proof was right there.

“You see…” she continued, her voice lower now, but sharper. “If you want to catch a man spilling his secret, just follow him to the midst of his friends when they are drinking. One drink and he will start telling you all his life secrets.”

At that moment, none of us could breathe. Our throats were dry. Every time she moved, every sound she made, the room shook with tension. And all our eyes—every single one—turned to Jude..

I raised my hands slowly. “Cynthia, abeg calm down. We fit talk this thing.”

She snapped at me like thunder.

“Don’t you dare open your mouth!” she screamed. “You knew!. You knew what he was doing, and you said nothing. You covered for him.”

I stepped back quickly. The rage in her eyes made my chest tighten.

“Do you know he hasn’t touched me for over a week?” she shouted. “Do you!?”
I shook my head.

“With that thing between his legs, he still had the guts to use it on another woman?” Her voice cracked, but her anger only grew stronger.

“Do you know how many abortions I’ve done for this b**stard? My parents keep asking when I’ll bring home my fiancé, and each time I bring it up, he waves me off. Do you know what that means for a woman?”

Her words came like hot iron on bare skin.

“I’m thirty-four. No husband. No child. Eight years of my life… wasted!” Tears rolled down her face, but her grip on the knife didn’t weaken. “And now he wants to dump me for another woman.”

Jude tried to step forward, voice shaking. “Cynthia, please, calm down. Let’s talk at home—”

“Home?!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “Today, Jude, you will leave this earth!”

She raised the knife higher, her other hand still clutching the broken bottle. “Whoever tries to stop me will follow him. I don’t care anymore. I’m ready to die today — but I promise you, Jude will not live a second longer than me.”

The whole room froze. Jude’s back pressed against the wall, sweat dripping down his face. Kenny’s usual funny smile had disappeared — he was trembling. Baba T’s jaw dropped; he looked like he had seen a ghost.

Me? My legs felt weak, my palms sweaty, but I forced myself to stay calm, to find a way to stop her.
But Cynthia wasn’t blinking. Her rage had swallowed her whole.
I just stood there, shocked. This wasn’t the Cynthia I knew. The Cynthia I knew was soft, quiet, the kind of woman who always swallowed her words and always begged Jude even when he was clearly at fault. I had seen her cry for his forgiveness more times than I could count. But the woman standing in front of me now, with a knife in one hand and a broken bottle in the other, was a stranger.
If I could put her appearance into the perspective of someone you know, it would be that of Taraji P. Henson. Cynthia, standing there, was almost a perfect replica of that emotional scene with Taraji in Tyler Perry’s Straw—the very scene that brought tears to the eyes of nearly everyone who watched it.

It was as if all the years of pain had finally boiled over, and I couldn’t tell whether to pity Cynthia or fear her.

Then Baba T stepped forward.

He wasn’t shouting. His voice was low, steady, almost fatherly.
“Cynthia… listen to me.”

She glared at him, but he didn’t flinch.
“I’m not here to judge you. I hear your pain, I see it. But think about what you’re holding in your hands. Think about what you’re about to do. There’s no coming back once you cross that bridge.”

Her breathing was heavy, her hands shaking. “Baba, forget it. I’ve crossed a lot of bridges for this fool many times. This thing is too much. All of you can’t understand what I’m going through right now. Today is the last day for him.”

But Baba T took another step, palms open, his voice softer.
“I know betrayal hurts. I know what it’s like to lose everything. But you’re still alive, Cynthia. You still have tomorrow. Don’t throw it away because of one man. Don’t let this pain turn you into somebody you’re not.”

His words hung in the air. Even Kenny’s eyes blinked fast, hearing him talk.

But Cynthia’s eyes were burning. She snapped at him.
“Baba T, shift! This one no concern you! If you talk again sef, I go forget Jude and follow you join!”

He sighed, still calm. “It concerns all of us, Cynthia. Because when you do something like this, it won’t just be Jude you destroy. You’ll destroy yourself too. I beg you, hand me the knife and the bottle, please. Let’s talk.”

For a moment, her eyes flickered — something almost like doubt — but then her jaw tightened.
“No! Today is the end for this fool!”

Then it happened.

Cynthia charged toward Jude, the knife gleaming under the dim bar light as she rushed at him.

Before I could move to stop her, Baba T stepped in front of Jude.


The blade sank into his stomach.

The whole place froze.

Baba T’s eyes widened. He staggered back, staring down at the knife buried in his belly. Blood spilled like water from a broken sachet.

“Oh god of thunder!” I shouted, rushing to him.

Cynthia gasped, her voice breaking for the first time. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean—” she stuttered as she dropped the broken bottle in her hand.

But Jude tackled her to the ground quickly, pinning her hands with all his strength as two men who had been hiding by the door rushed to help him.

Me and Kenny grabbed Baba T quickly before he could fall to the floor. His shirt was already soaked, blood spilling too fast. I pressed my hands around the knife still stuck in his big round belly, but when I looked down, his intestines were already pushing out.
God no… Baba T, stay with me!” I cried, my voice breaking. Kenny was shaking hard, his hands covered in blood as he tried to hold the knife in place.

He coughed, blood running from his mouth. His hand reached for mine, but it was weak and trembling.
“Don’t… let me…” he whispered, his voice fading as he fought for breath.

We didn’t think twice. We grabbed the keys of one customer’s car outside and lifted him in with the help of Jude. Kenny was crying openly, his hands pressed hard against the wound, but the blood just wouldn’t stop.

I drove the car like a man losing his mind, horn screaming, leg pressing hard on the throttle. In the back, Jude and Kenny were pressing on the wound, but blood kept pouring. Kenny was sobbing, his cries ripping through the car. I held the wheel so tight my knuckles hurt, trying not to fall apart. Jude was shaking, eyes wide, frozen by fear. Everything was moving too fast, like time itself was running out.

When we finally got to the hospital, we carried him in, screaming for help. Nurses rushed him to the emergency room. We sat in the lobby, our hands covered in his blood, our shirts too. Kenny’s prayers echoed through the lobby. Our hearts pounded, each beat heavy with the fear and anticipation of what was happening inside the emergency room.

Minutes felt like hours. The smell of disinfectant burned my nose. Kenny was pacing back and forth, muttering, “He can’t die… he must not die.” Jude sat in a corner, shaking, his hands trembling with fear.


*******

From the moment Darous stepped into his office, Detective Kalu’s instincts stirred.

The boy looked the same — that unsure smile — but something was off. The Darous who had spoken to him at the party was gone. Now, he sat there in front of him, claiming that everything he told him at the crime scene was just the words of a drunken man.

Kalu leaned back in his chair, studying him. Only one force in this city had the power to twist a man’s words that way. The Circle.

And when Kalu spotted the G-Wagon outside, his suspicion hardened into certainty. A bricklayer driving a G-Wagon? Impossible. Darous doesn't strike him as someone that can be involved in yahoo yahoo and most importantly someone like him couldn’t rent a four-hundred-thousand-naira car without a hand pushing him from behind.

The Rolex watch on his wrist sealed it. The Circle had been on contact with him.
Darous tried to hide it well, but Kalu had spent too many years reading men. He caught every tremble in his voice, every nervous shift of his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. Lies always lived in the body before they reached the lips. That was why he had spent years in police college — not just learning laws, but also learning men and their behaviours.

So he set a trap.

“Let me grab a paper from the next office,” Kalu had said casually, before leaving the room.

He didn’t go far. Through the slit of the blinds, he watched what Darous would do.

Darous hesitated at first, then moved. The boy crept to the cabinet, pulled out a file, and opened it with shaky hands. His eyes darted quickly over the pages. He thought he was being clever.

Kalu’s heart broke.

It wasn’t shock — he had expected this. But watching it confirmed how deeply the Circle had sunk its claws.
They always found the brightest minds and bent them into puppets. All for the promise of crumbs.
For a moment, the detective’s chest breathed heavy. The boy was another casualty of a society that had failed him.

When Kalu finally re-entered, his face showed nothing that can make Darous suspicious. He let Darous believe the act had gone unnoticed. What Darous didn’t know was that Kalu had already prepared two versions of the statement he gave him at the crime scene— the original statement he had spoken that night was locked away separately.

Kalu had been chasing the Circle for over a decade. He knew their games and their patterns. He had survived their assassins, their traps more than once, he had even crossed path with their most feared killer — the Limping Man. That night, Kalu had been seconds from death before he fought back, a bullet tearing through the assasin’s leg. The assassin limped away into the darkness, and the underworld gave him his new nickname. The Limping man.

Kalu lived differently because of that. If the Circle knew he had a wife and daughter, they would have buried them by now. He saw them only on arranged weekends. He always disguises himself with fake beards and strange clothes whenever he wants to visit them. He even made sure his only daughter-Naomi-never beared his surname. He had given her his late mother's maiden name. It was the only way to keep them alive and safe.

The Circle definitely had something on Darous—a threat, a secret, a weakness. Kalu could see it in the boy’s eyes, in the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of it. That made the boy valuable.

This wasn’t just a case file anymore. This boy might be the key to breaking apart the entire Circle.

Kalu sat up straight in his chair, watching Darous leave the office with a fake boldness in his eyes. He let him think he had fooled the old detective. Let him believe he had escaped.

Now Kalu knew what he had to do. He needed to find out what the Circle was using to control Darous. Once he had that, he could turn it around, win Darous’s trust — and then make his move.


*******

Continuation of episode 15.


The doctor came out of the emergency unit after more than an hour. His eyes told the story before his mouth even opened.
We rushed toward him the moment we saw the white coat.

“I’m sorry. He lost too much blood. The knife tore through his stomach badly. We tried… but we...we lost him.”

The words hit us hard.
Kenny dropped to the ground, tears pouring down his face uncontrollably. Jude buried his face in his hands, shaking all over. My chest felt like it was on fire. Our friend, our brother, Baba T… he was gone.

Still trying to accept what had happened, the nurse led us down the narrow corridor. My legs felt heavy, like they were made of cement. Every step felt so slow. No one said a word. Only Kenny’s silent sobs broke the quiet.

Then the nurse pushed open the door.

There he was.

Baba T.

Lying on the bed. Still. Quiet. Lifeless.

The hospital sheet covered him up to his chest, but even in death, his round belly pushed the fabric up, like he was still reminding us of who he was.

Our Baba T. Our brother. Our friend, now gone, unable to move again. His strong hands, never to lift again.

My chest burned as I stared. Just hours ago, that same belly was bouncing as he laughed at Kenny’s foolish jokes. Just hours ago, he was raising his glass, spilling beer as he shouted, “To life, my guys!” And now… life had left him.

Baba T loved Arsenal with all his heart. He could argue about them for hours, never backing down. It was more than a team to him — it was part of who he was.

Now he lay still on that bed. His hands, once raised in joy, were silent. His voice, that fierce cheer, gone. I looked at him and felt my heart break. The man who loved us so much was gone, and I wondered if he knew how much he was loved — how much his passion had meant to all of us.

Kenny broke down first. His cry tore through the room, raw and ugly. He stumbled forward, gripping the edge of the bed. His tears poured like a broken tap.
“No, no, no… Baba no do us like this. No leave us, abeg. We just dey laugh together. You no fit just turn log of wood like this. Baba, talk nah!”

Jude sat in the corner, his head in his hands, trembling like a leaf. I leaned against the wall, my eyes aching. Tears started to fall, slow and heavy.

It hit me then — hours ago, four of us were joking at the bar, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. And now, only three of us were crying like children at the foot of a hospital bed, staring at the lifeless body of the fourth. The holy book was clear — the gap between life and death is so small, just a split second.

Kenny’s voice cracked again, shouting into the silence.
“That man na my brother! My only brother for this world! You know how many nights me and Baba dey share one plate of garri? When I no get where to lay my head, na him carry me. When life wan crush me, na Baba hold me steady. Who else I get for this city? WHO?!”

His voice shattered me. I covered my eyes, but tears still leaked through. You know like every friendship circle that consist of more than three or more people. There are always the ones who are closer to each other than to the rest of the group. When you don't see one of you on time, you always know who to ask from that same circle where he his. That was Kenny and Baba T just like what Jude was to me also.

I stared at Baba T’s face. His lips pale, his eyes closed, his chest still. The same mouth that used to throw endless jokes and argue like his life depends on it. The same chest that carried so much laughter for us. Gone just like that.

Baba T was older than all of us. The “senior man” of our circle. But he never pulled rank. He treated us as equals, as brothers. He had no family but us.

He was an orphan. A widower. A man who lost his wife to breast cancer. That was how he got engaged to bottles of beer. That bar where he fell tonight… that was his second home.
You see let me tell you, behind every drunk man you see in a bar, there’s always a story. Baba T’s story was his wife’s death. He never truly recovered from her loss.

And despite his scars, he gave us joy.
We used to mock his belly all the time. Kenny would slap it from behind and say, “Baba, this your belle deserve its own zip code.” Jude would sometimes rest his head on it like a pillow when he got too drunk to stand. Me? I’d laugh and say, “Baba T, I know one day, the Hubble space telescope will eventually locate another planet inside that your belly?”

He never got angry. He would just chuckle, rub it with pride, and say, “Una go die young, all of una.” Then he’d buy us another round.

But now… who would buy us that round again? Who would laugh the loudest? Who would take the jokes?

The weight crushed me. I walked to the bed, touched his cold hand, and whispered,
“Baba, why you take this knife for us? Why do you have to chest everything for us? We are lost without you..... ” My tears dropped on his skin. For the first time in years, I cried uncontrollably.


Kenny slammed his fist against the bedframe, trembling with grief.
“This man held us together! He was the glue of this circle! Without Baba, we’ll fall apart. You hear me? We’ve don dey break apart. Who will settle our fights? Who will make us laugh? Baba, please, wake up!”

His words echoed through the ward like thunder. Nurses peeked inside the door, then quietly left us alone with our pain.

We stood there in silence for a few minutes, lost in grief. Then, suddenly, Kenny snapped. His sorrow turned to anger. He spun around sharply and looked straight at Jude.

“You!” he roared, his voice shaking the walls. “Na you kill am! Na you cause all this! If no be your yeye cheating, Baba for dey alive today!”

Before I could move, Kenny charged at Jude. He slammed Jude to the ground with the strength of a madman, his fists raining down.
“You thief my brother from me! God punish you!”

Jude screamed, struggling, but Kenny’s madness was stronger. His blows landed without mercy. Then, like a wild dog, Kenny bent low and sank his teeth deep into Jude’s arm. Blood spurted. Jude howled in pain.

I rushed, grabbing Kenny’s arms, pulling him back with all my strength.
“Kenny stop! Stop! This one no go bring Baba back!” I shouted, but he fought me like a man possessed.

Even as I dragged him off, Kenny twisted his body and sank his teeth deeper before finally letting go. Jude rolled to the corner, clutching his bleeding arm, gasping.

Kenny stood in the middle of the ward, shaking, his face wet with tears, his voice broken.
“My life don spoil! My brother don die! Baba suppose grow old with us, dey gist, dey drink. Now coffin go carry am! Tell me how I go live with this pain? Tell me how I go laugh again without my Baba?!”

The room was filled with our cries.
Three broken men.
One silent body on the bed.

And right there, I knew it —
Our circle was broken forever.

Life had just divided us into two: the days when Baba T was alive… and every day after this one.

The ward eventually quieted down after Kenny’s outburst. He was still sobbing, his face swollen with tears and anger. Jude sat on the floor, holding his arm where Kenny’s teeth had sunk deep, blood staining his shirt.

Later that night, we filled out the hospital forms, answered the doctor’s questions, and gave Baba T’s details as best as we could. Kenny managed to tell the doctor his full name — Babatunde Omitunde — the name that gave rise to the nickname, Baba T

By the time I stepped out of the hospital, the night had fallen heavy. The city noise felt far away. My shirt was wet with tears and sweat, but my heart was heavier than all of it.

When I finally got to the entrance of my compound, I pushed the gate weakly, climbed the front door stairs slowly, and reached my door. I slotted the key, twisted, and entered.

The sitting room was dark. I flicked the switch and froze.

She was there.
Cynthia. Sitting on my couch, her eyes full of pity. She was still in the same blood‑stained clothes from the bar, the ones she wore when she stabbed Baba T.


To be continued.

Your reactions matters. Drop comments on your thoughts. Can we even justify Cynthia's actions?

Meedon:
We are now in page 5

done my boss. I stayed all night cooking this. I hope it's worth it.

Damilgodwin:
Hmmm, e b like say I get anti-dote ooo😁😁, no worries. Kill them, I go use Tiffany beauty for the waking up process 😁😁

Oya Na. Let's see how it goes.... 😂😂😂😂

Make dem sha arrest Cynthia oh

Cynthia needs to be arrested. Who send am go do abortions for Jude. She should be sentence to life imprisonment

Police never arrest people’s for this case ?

Meedon:
Cynthia needs to be arrested. Who send am go do abortions for Jude. She should be sentence to life imprisonment

abi o. Who send her?

Abdulreheem:
Police never arrest people’s for this case ?

I wonder too jare. With all the chaos happening in that environment, no one has been arrested yet.... The police can do better...

Kai, TBM nor you be you again?, walahi you too good,what a ride,you really did a big one on me from smiling like mumu to squeezing face like say I wan mess for public 😂
From sharing laughers and strong bond to crying and wailing within a twinkle of eye😔, TBM you are really a gifted writer,do knows how to carry readers along, seriously you really know how to handle my mumu button,😂😂😂

I love the chemistry or biology between Darous and Tiffany, typical classic true love story,though this genZ generation fit nor fit understand , and for det Kalu,make senior man no go jeopardize Darous passive income ooo😂😂😂,(who no like money nau)🤗
Baba I dey ya back like hunchback, anywhere you go ,I follow 💯😂,like mtn👏,shey make we still dey expect another update today ni,🤔
TBM you to much🍺.
And for Cynthia,I nor dey take nonsense,she allowed anger control her, she's a weak dick loving slowpoke😏,make dem open kirikiri gate for her joor😔

dawno2008:
Kai, TBM nor you be you again?, walahi you too good,what a ride,you really did a big one on me from smiling like mumu to squeezing face like say I wan mess for public 😂
From sharing laughers and strong bond to crying and wailing within a twinkle of eye😔, TBM you are really a gifted writer,do knows how to carry readers along, seriously you really know how to handle my mumu button,😂😂😂

I love the chemistry or biology between Darous and Tiffany, typical classic true love story,though this genZ generation fit nor fit understand , and for det Kalu,make senior man no go jeopardize Darous passive income ooo😂😂😂,(who no like money nau)🤗
Baba I dey ya back like hunchback, anywhere you go ,I follow 💯😂,like mtn👏,shey make we still dey expect another update today ni,🤔
TBM you to much🍺.
And for Cynthia,I nor dey take nonsense,she allowed anger control her, she's a weak dick loving slowpoke😏,make dem open kirikiri gate for her joor😔

😂😂😂 The next update is ready, boss. I’ll be dropping it soon. Just tired of always having to split long episodes into two before posting — it’s really exhausting.

Let's meet on the next page for episode 17 and 18.
It's left to you how fast you want the story to roll out. I've kept my own end of the bargain.



Episode 16 — Ashes of Friendship

For a moment my brain refused to connect the dots. How? How did she get in? Then I remembered — the spare key. The one I always tucked behind the kitchen window, just around the corner. She knew about it. I had told her about it during one of our usual talks.

Her white blouse was soaked with brownish-red stains, and her blue bum shorts looked like she’d rolled on a battlefield. She was still in the same clothes from the bar. The same hands that had once held the knife now rested on her knees, trembling.

My chest tightened with anger. My head buzzed. After everything at the hospital, here she was — alive. Free. Waiting.

I didn’t know what to do. Call the police? Attack her? This was our Cynthia. The same woman who had cooked and laughed with us. Who had stayed late nights in that joint with us. When Jude’s love with her got serious, I was the one who advised him to stop bringing her to the joint. She had taken it hard at first, but eventually she stopped.

She had been our woman. The one who fed us when we were broke. The one who nursed me more than Jude did the night after I tried to take my life. She wasn’t even living with Jude back then, but she still came to my side. She brought me back from the edge.

But she had killed someone. No matter how we twisted it, Baba T was gone because of her. The thought of Baba T being dead suddenly hit me again like a fresh wound. Maybe I had been in denial since leaving the hospital, but now the reality cracked my chest open.

I dropped to my knees and began to weep bitterly.

“Baba T… Baba T…” my voice shook.

Cynthia stood slowly, walking toward me with careful steps. Her face was wet with tears. She knelt beside me.

“Please… please, I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking like broken glass. “I don’t even know how it happened. God knows I didn’t want to… it was like my head just turned. I regret it. I regret everything.”

She started sobbing, holding her stomach like she was holding herself together.

I looked at her, my tears still falling. “Cynthia… why? Why you go do us like this?”

She wiped her face with trembling fingers. “You think I planned it? You think I wanted to kill Baba T? No… no. I lost everything. Two months ago I did an abortion for Jude. The doctor warned me — said it may cost me my womb. But Jude begged me. Promised me forever. Promised me I was his one and only. I did it. And it cost me. I can’t have children again. My life… my womanhood… gone. All because I trusted him. Eight years of relationship gone.”

She gripped my arm, her nails digging in. “And then… I heard him at that bar talking about Toyosi. Talking about how she’s the next best thing. After everything. After my womb. After my blood. I don’t know what came over me. I swear to God I don’t mean… to.”
Her tears fell on my shirt. My anger started to melt into something else — pity. Deep pity.

“I can’t go home,” she whispered. “I don’t know what Jude or his friends will do to me. Please… help me.”
She kept begging for what felt like ten minutes, sobbing so hard she could barely speak.

I wiped my face and asked, “How did you even escape from the bar?”

She sniffed and sat back on her heels. “Those two drunk idiots that tried to pin me down? I overpowered them before the police came. Someone was already calling them, but I ran. You think I was joking when I said I learned karate?”

I just stared at her. She wasn’t joking. She had always bragged about that karate class.

I felt real sorry for her. But at the same time, helping her would be like betraying my friends — betraying Baba T’s memory. My stomach churned. She kept begging, knees pressed to the floor, tears cutting clean tracks down her face. I was still on my knees beside her, my own eyes wet. The room felt small and noisy and far away all at once.

Then my phone buzzed. Kenny’s name lit the screen. I lifted it without hesitation. I had planned to call him once I got home but the situation I met had taken my mind off it.
I put the phone to my ear.

“Kenny?” I said.

He sounded different — soft at first, but there was an edge under it. “I just went to Jude's house. No sign of him. Even that b*tch Cynthia no dey there too,” he said. He tried to make his voice easy, casual, like he wasn't hurting. But it didn’t work on me. I saw through the façade.

The memory of what Kenny did at the hospital hit me right there — how he’d nearly strangled Jude, throwing words like knives, blaming him for Baba T's death.

“Why you dey look for Jude?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“To make sure he's okay na. Trust me. I can't lose another friend this night. It will crush me totally,” Kenny said.

"But K, if there's anyone we need to be worried about right now, it's you..." I told him.

"Me? Darous, you are very funny. You underestimate the strength of Twins. If I can survive the loss of my Taiwo on the day we clock fourteen, then Baba T's death na small thing. And you know me na, one paracetamol like this and I go even forget who be Baba T.” He laughed.

I’m too old to be fooled by that. I know Kenny. So I told him I didn’t know where Jude was.

"You sure?" he blurted out.

"Yes. I got home like twenty minutes ago and I never rest since. I'm mentally drained," I stressed.

"Okay." He said. I was about to hit the red icon when I heard him talk. He must have forgotten the call was still on. He muttered — low but ugly. “If I catch any of them… if I catch that b*tch or Jude… it’s over for them.” The words slipped out like a blade.

Two other voices answered him. I heard them say I was lying. That I knew more than I said. Their tone was accusing and angry. My hands tightened around the phone.

I hit Jude’s number quick. Switched off.
I looked at Cynthia. Her hands were trembling inside mine. She kept begging, her eyes red and full of tears, asking me to be the good man in a bad night. Kenny’s words kept echoing in my head. I knew that tone — that calm way he talks before he does something crazy. People think Kenny is just the funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but I’ve seen the other side. It's as dangerous as anything you can think of. It was the night a drunk man slapped one of the bar girls because the girl was late to attend to him. Kenny switched like lightning. One second he was joking with us, the next, he was on the man, beating him till people had to drag him off. That night, I saw what he could do when his other side was on full mode. I didn’t want to see it again.

But still, helping her would make me a traitor to my friends. Letting her be found by Kenny would make me an accomplice to her death. I know what you’re thinking — I should just hand her to the police, right? But clearly, you don’t know Kenny. When that guy is on revenge mode, he stops being human. If I hand her over, he will make sure she joined our friend on that same one-way flight to the ground below.

There was no clean choice. Only messy ones with blood and shame on all of them.

I swallowed. My throat felt thick. I thought of how the boys would call me a coward. I thought of how the world would call me a monster for helping someone who stabbed our friend.

But in that moment, with Cynthia sobbing and Kenny’s words still in my ear, the choice felt simple in a way: if I didn’t move now, she would die. If I move, I’ll carry another kind of weight.

I stayed on my knees for one more second. Then I stood, wiped my face, and looked at Cynthia. I have to help her. I decided.

The only person I knew who could take this kind of problem away right now was Chuka.

I picked up my phone and called him.

He answered with his usual cold voice. “Hello.”

I explained everything. Every single thing that happened that day starting from the joint.

He listened quietly. Then he said, “You are one of us now. A Circle member. We always rescue our own. This is how it works.”

He gave me instructions. “Tell Cynthia to be at Mushin garage in thirty minutes. A car will be waiting. I’ll send you the driver’s number. Give her a phone to reach him.”

I lowered the phone. My hands were shaking. The decision had been made. No turning back.

I looked at Cynthia. “Get up,” I said softly. “I’ll help you.”

Her eyes widened. “You will?”

I slid open the center-table drawer and pulled out an old Nokia.
“Take this,” I said, pushing the phone into her hand. “Go wash up, grab any of my clothes that fit you, and take this.” I pressed two thousand naira into her palm. “Walk to Mushin garage and call this number.” I leaned in, voice low. “One condition — don’t ever call me again.”

She nodded quickly, tears dripping down her chin. “Thank you. God bless you. Thank you…”

She went into my bathroom and took a quick shower.

When she came out, she was wrapped in one of my towels. She went into the room where my wardrobe was, picked a polo and baggy jeans. She put on my cap.

When she stepped out again, she didn’t look like the same woman anymore. She looked like a stranger.

I stared at her. My heart was heavy. My hands were dirty. Baba T was dead. Cynthia was about to disappear. And me? I had just crossed a line I could never uncross.

The door clicked shut behind Cynthia. The room still carried the faint scent of her soap from the quick shower. I sat on the edge of the sofa, staring at nothing. My head became a hurricane of thoughts.

Then five minutes later — BANG! BANG! BANG!

A loud knock rattled the door.

I froze. My first thought was Cynthia forgot something. But that didn’t make sense. She didn’t even have a bag.

I stood up slowly, my chest tight, and walked to the door.

When I opened it, the sight before me wasn’t Cynthia.

It was Kenny.

He looked nothing like the Kenny I knew. His eyes were red, not from tears but from a fire burning behind them. His jaw was stiff. His fists were clenched.

“Where’s Jude?” he asked flatly, his voice a low growl. “I know you are lying. You know where he is.”

“I…I haven’t seen him since we left the hospital,” I said, trying to sound calm.

"What of Cynthia?"
He stared at me, unmoving.

" How am I supposed to know where she is when we both left her at the bar......"

His eyes scanned my face, searching for lies.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“I’m not, Kenny.”

For a moment, silence filled the doorway. His breathing was rough.

“I will avenge Baba T,” he said at last. “Even if it destroys me.”

I stepped forward. “Kenny, listen to me—an eye for an eye only makes the world go blind.”

He gave a strange little laugh — dark and bitter. “And do you know why we call some people blind? Because we can see. If everyone is blind, nobody will know who is blind.”

His words disturbed me.

“But why are you looking for Jude?” I asked quietly. “You nearly killed him at the hospital and now you are searching for him by this time of the night?”

“It’s not Jude I’m after, Darous,” Kenny snapped. “It’s that b***h he calls his girlfriend — the one who took Baba T from us. But if I don’t find her, Jude will pay. One way or another.”

Before I could speak again, he turned and stormed off into the night.

I shut the door and leaned against it, my knees weak. My mind began replaying the day: the police station, Baba T’s blood, Kenny’s scream, Cynthia’s tears. Now Kenny was hunting Jude.

No writer could script this day like this. Not even Theblessedman. Adigun Idowu, Darousmart, Darous Emmanuel or whatever shangoistic name he calls himself. Dem never born am well.

I dropped onto the sofa, my face in my hands. I was lost in thought, weighing what would happen to me if anyone ever found out I helped Cynthia escape from justice. I'm not so different from the Circle. Just a few weeks with them and I'm starting to behave like the owner of that dreadful network? How did I become this person? I muttered to myself.

It was just one thousand minus nine hundred and ninety-eight minutes to midnight when another knock landed on my door. In simpler un-mathematical terms, it was two minutes to midnight.

This time the knock was sharper, faster and heavier.

I jumped up, my heart pounding. I swung the door open.

It was Jude.

He stumbled inside like a man running from ghosts. His shirt was damp with sweat, his eyes wide and darting.

“Darous,” he gasped, “I reached house, I no see Cynthia. She don disappear. Kenny came with two guys looking for me. This wahala is too much, all because of that useless Toyosi—”

GBAM!

My palm landed across his face before I could even think.

He staggered back, stunned.

“Why did you slap me?” he asked, his voice trembling. He probably contemplated taking me on but he knew he was no match for me. He couldn't handle Kenny, not to talk of me.

“You dey craze? You want to blame someone else for your mess!” I shouted. “You slept with Toyosi, you used her to destroy another woman’s life, and because of you our friend is dead! Gone forever!”

I could feel my chest heaving as I spoke. My words echoed off the walls. Jude stared at me like a cornered animal.

"If you had just kept your mouth shut instead of bragging about how you fck her, none of this would have happened and Baba T would still be alive. You this bastard!" I roared.

Then, suddenly, he snapped.

“I didn’t even sleep with her!” he cried. His voice cracked. “She never allowed it. She only let me in because she said I looked like someone who had a bigger penis. But when she saw my penis, she almost pushed me outside. She made me sleep on the floor that night!”

My mouth fell open. For more than thirty seconds, I was unable to utter a single word. I was totally dumbstruck.

“Then why did you lie?” I finally said.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Because I didn’t want Kenny to laugh at me. You know how he is. He makes mockery of everything. Remember when I said the first time I had sex was when I clocked twenty-two. You remember how he taunted me for over two months... Making me feel less of myself.” He cleared the tears on his face with the back of his palms. "You remember the day after the party at your client's place. How he even asked Toyosi how our night went...you remember don't you?"

What Kenny said at the dinner table with Mrs Adeoye kept replaying in my head — and Toyosi’s response too. Her words echoed clearly: “It was educational. I learned how to dodge some challenges.”

I stared at Jude. “Then why did you keep shouting about her? Why make us believe you wanted her?”

“It was just ruggedy,” he said between sobs. “I only said that so you guys wouldn’t suspect anything. You know me — I can’t stand mockery for two days, not to talk of two months. Even when I asked you to help me get her number, remember how Kenny mocked me? He said the only thing I carried from the night with Toyosi, after sleeping with her, was the bedframe. Now imagine what he would’ve done if he knew I actually slept on the floor while she had the bed to herself.”

I almost laughed — a bitter, broken laugh.

“I’ve been nursing that ego wound since that night with Toyosi,” he said quietly. “Since then, I couldn’t even get my penis up for Cynthia. I didn’t want her to notice anything, so I started keeping my distance… but now she thinks I’m trying to dump her.”

My mind started processing everything slowly—each memory slicing through me like a blade. This whole mess… it was all my fault. I was the one who dragged everyone into this madness. One stupid interview that I did for these people, and then that party I insisted we all attend. They followed me—blindly and faithfully—like goats to the slaughterhouse, because of our friendship. If only I had left them out of it and gone with just Tiffany and Toyosi, maybe Baba T would still be alive. Maybe everything wouldn’t be this broken.

Now the bond that once held us together is gone. Kenny is out there, scouring every corner of the city for Jude. Cynthia—Jude’s own girlfriend—is on the run for her life because of the chain of decisions I set in motion.

And Jude… he just sat there, broken, weeping like a child, muttering the same words again and again through tears and snot,
“I didn’t even sleep with her… I didn’t even sleep with her… I didn’t…”

I bent low, trying to calm Jude down, searching for words that could maybe pull him back from that dark place. But before I could even open my mouth, the door burst open with a violent bang.

Kenny stood there.

And behind him—two shadows. Saipon and Cobra. Street men everyone in the area knew too well. The kind you don’t want to owe, the kind you don’t want to cross. Both of them stood tall and cold, each gripping a cutlass that caught the faint light in the room, gleaming like death itself.

To be continued.

Boss I am actually learning from this your master piece 😭😭

Most guys are victims of this Jude situation walai.
Just like my signature, it takes a lion heart to get a lion shares.

If Jude survived this one ehn, na on God ooo😭

Damilgodwin:
Boss I am actually learning from this your master piece 😭😭

we are all learning my bro.. it's not easy. I'm praying for Jude ooo. Make God help am. Imagine what brought about this whole situation? If only he had found the courage to keep his mouth shut. I don dey suspect him since the time him and Kenny woke Darous up and begin to tell him how Toyosi was a bad girl and all sorts. I know real men don't really kiss and tell. He was only using that to cover up. But it's not supposed to be so. Ati 2 inches, ati 10 inches, Oko Loko nje.

Let's pray for him jare my bro... 😂😂😂

TheBlessedMAN:
we are all learning my bro.. it's not easy. I'm praying for Jude ooo. Make God help am. Imagine what brought about this whole situation? If only he had found the courage to keep his mouth shut. I don dey suspect him since the time him and Kenny woke Darous up and begin to tell him how Toyosi was a bad girl and all sorts. I know real men don't really kiss and tell. He was only using that to cover up. But it's not supposed to be so. Ati 2 inches, ati 10 inches, Oko Loko nje.

Let's pray for him jare my bro... 😂😂😂

Oko Loko je 😂😂😂😂, but no be for gbim sizes oo 😁😁

Damilgodwin:
Oko Loko je 😂😂😂😂, but no be for gbim sizes oo 😁😁

which be gbim size

So many lessons to learn from this chapter

This man don take over again. This talented writer is back. After four years, the writing has immensely increased. The touch is more magical. Baba I doff my 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠 you be living legend. This space is lucky to have you boss. Every episode Na banga. Like someone said. It's a rollercoaster of emotions. You first give us laff then later crying. An adult like me see as I dey cry. The Baba T demise pain me o. I feel am. I swear to God. But nothing spoil. Ride on my man. Make that Cynthia sha pay at the end of it all. That's my wish. Respect boss

PrinceOFprince:
This man don take over again. This talented writer is back. After four years, the writing has immensely increased. The touch is more magical. Baba I doff my 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠 you be living legend. This space is lucky to have you boss. Every episode Na banga. Like someone said. It's a rollercoaster of emotions. You first give us laff then later crying. An adult like me see as I dey cry. The Baba T demise pain me o. I feel am. I swear to God. But nothing spoil. Ride on my man. Make that Cynthia sha pay at the end of it all. That's my wish. Respect boss

The prince, I'm in support o. Cynthia must pay. Darous no even get sense for letting her leave....

I don’t know when last I read this kind of interesting story on naira land again

TheBlessedMAN:
done my boss. I stayed all night cooking this. I hope it's worth it.

It definitely was worth it
More ink to your pen boss

TheBlessedMAN:
😂😂😂 The next update is ready, boss. I’ll be dropping it soon. Just tired of always having to split long episodes into two before posting — it’s really exhausting.

Osheey👍👍👍baba,I typed this before reading the update,I appreciate your every effort,May God of thunder continue to grant your every wish,issseee🙏🙏🙏🙏💯

Abdulreheem:
I don’t know when last I read this kind of interesting story on naira land again

He's called Theblessedman for a reason 😍

Am I the only one who thinks this detective Kalu is out to spoil the show?

TBM... TBM .... TBM..... TBM.... TBM.... TBM.... TBM..... Ah, you too much my dear. Like the prince said. You grew more and more into a very intelligent writer. Every plot and twist fitting perfectly. Not calling the readers mumu by throwing unrealistic stuffs to us. This man is truly gifted. More wisdom my dear. I'm rooting for you...

Hey Nairaland, the boss of literature section is fvcking back.... 😂💯🙏🤠😂🙏💯🤠😂❤️❤️❤️🎁😁❤️❤️❤️❤️

I actually cried in that baba T scene o. Ah, Darous, you know how to make someone feel your story... Ahahah