

IN GOD I TRUST

My Third Cycle

A Green Tale Novel

PROLOGUE

Time - an Entity.

The mother perhaps of all recorded data in history, present and the future. She counts the seconds, minutes and hours that unfold in a day. She is purpose, a schedule.

Management without her is futile. Her existence predates life and will outlive it. She is omnipresent and omniscient. She has witnessed the birth of every great achiever. She counts in every situation, good or bad. She gives no breaks, supports no one.

People say time is money but time is more than money. Money lost can be recovered but time lost is never recovered, a moment lost is lost forever. Time is ever changing because change is a law of nature and nothing is independent of change or time.

The life of a man is very short but the work to be done is large and difficult therefore, not a single minute should be wasted. Every breath and every second should be used properly and meaningfully.

15th October, 2016

Michael

My uncle Abdul Saad was a tall, slim man. He had wavy brilliant dark hair; reminiscent to the ocean waves. A peculiar birthmark shaped inform of a star lay on his forehead. A gentle and quiet soul he was, his facial hair always well dressed; his beautiful brown eyes were lovely to behold, they were ever so persuasive to individuals who stared into them. He had a charismatic aura about him; basically a woman's man, handsome and luring. He spoke and smiled softly too. He was the very definition of an aristocrat.

He loved books. I never knew him to work but he was very rich. Never married thus; never gave me any cousins to play with. My only compensation was his friendship. Since I was old enough to read, each time mother and I visited, he would lend me a new story book to read. It quickly became our thing. I would return the books I had read and he would suggest newer books. I liked him because he related to me like an adult. We discussed authors and editors, criticized books. We had long chats about school my; school life, girls... he always had the right tips/advices. He was always happy to listen to all my stories and problems, this was odd but welcomed; his fierce dedication to my needs soon earned him my loyalty and trust –he became my confidant. On a day, i asked him why he read and wrote so much, he replied,

"Son, reality sucks but in my books, I am alive. I feel at home''

We enjoyed the same kind of books although he loved every kind and genre: old or new, fantasy, fiction or thriller. Our shared favorites genre was non-fiction; based on true life experiences. I told him I wanted to write a novel based on a true story once, he regarded me -smiled before saying;

"I just might have one for you. Unravel the myth of a god and entity close to heart and blood. There, you will find a story."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"There's a diary, son" he said and then he paused, looking very pensive before continuing, "Michael, when I die, which of my possessions do you fancy most? What do you want off me when i go?"

"I don't under..." I started to say but he interrupted me.

"Of course you do son; what will it be? I've got sweet rides, mansions you'd love; i know you love my yacht. Come on Mike, it's not that hard."

"No, it isn't." I replied, this made him smile.

"Yes?!" he replied anxious

"I want this library."

"You love the library that much?"

"Well of course, it's a marvel!"

He laughed out, clearly amused at my pick. When he was done, he regarded at me and said, whilst still bearing a grin "It's yours after I die."

"Just like that uncle?!"

"On one condition though? You must accept the mansion it comes with."

I smiled in relief, it wasn't the kinda condition I'd imagined.

"I can't imagine anyone better than you in here. I was amused because technically your response should have been this mansion –the library is after all a section of the mansion."

We laughed and I acknowledged my brief moment of mediocrity.

After a while, I remembered he had spoken of a diary and tried to probe further but he said nothing more, he just told me I was not ready yet.

"Soon, Michael. Soon."

I was curious to know what that odd statement meant but it did not look like I was going to get anything more from him that day, so I left it for another day, hoping 'soon' would be soon enough.

***

Uncle Saad owned a library in his island home with a vast collection of books, his library was a marvel especially considering it was for private use. Its interior was well-decorated with antique sculptures, paintings and tall, polished shelves. A huge chandelier was centered in the middle of the room. Huge windows aided cross wind flow.. There was a large, polished wooden reading table with drawers placed at the east corner of the library. Comfortable sofas were tastefully arranged close to the windows and a mini-bar with a fridge at the corner of the room.

Before he committed suicide, Uncle Saad struck me as a very happy man, he was always smiling and he always had time to play with little children, so it came as a big shock to me when I was told he killed himself. I cried for a long time when I heard the news because we were too close, he was my friend, a father figure to me.

Three days later, after his burial, I was standing alone at the center of his library, the chandelier above my head, trying to wrap my mind around the fact he was gone forever; trying to understand why he would kill himself and the room seemed to start spinning. I started crying again as memories began to play back in my head.

Our family was a very little one. My mother, my aunties and uncle namely; Amina and Karajan then the controversial Uncle Du. My father died while I was in my mother's womb, so was trained by my mother and her sisters. I knew solely the members of my mother's family as she had lost contact with my father's family after his death.

Mum and Uncle Saad were the closest amongst their siblings which people considered weird; they did not grow up together, they had only met 16 years back –Uncle Saad had rescued her after she had been captured and baited as a hostage, he did so unaware she was his sister. While growing up, I heard rumors of a romance between both of them.

"Ridiculous!"

They claimed, when I asked about it. They claimed people - including their siblings - misinterpreted the love they had for each other. His death really devastated her.

Head still spinning in the library, I heard my mother call out my name. I was called to the parlor and asked to sit with the adults, which felt strange because I was only sixteen and this appeared a serious meeting. Aunties Amina and Karajan. Then Uncle Du who stood the eldest of the siblings; were all present. They sat still in their chairs, yet i could sense an underlying friction between them. Barrister Bola, uncle Saad's lawyer was also seated in the room.

Barrister Bola cleared his throat, picked up a document and began to read.

"Oh! That's what this is." I thought, "Uncle Saad's will."

I regarded on as Barrister Bola spoke, observing my uncle and aunties; appeared different, afraid and tense. They were all hoping for a share of the money.

Barrister Bola completed a statement I didn't quite catch as i wasn't paying full attention, I only heard mention of a hundred thousand dollars and Uncle Du jumped up and punched the air as he screamed

"Yes!"

I felt sad and disgusted at how delighted Uncle Du appeared.

"Well, the dead have no use for wealth." I thought to myself right before I was shaken out of my thoughts at the sound of more than one voice talking at the same time.

Apparently, my mother, my aunties and my uncle were willed just cash. Uncle Du began to enquire about his brother's assets but Barrister Bola told him to be patient.

"It has to be done the right way with all protocols observed."

Uncle Du lost his smile, he was getting suspicious. Barrister Bola turned to me and said, "Finally, Michael, the statement reads that your uncle, Saad willed firstly Article A; the library to you and secondly Article B; every asset he owned. There is a something else; a diary. A really old diary... "

The barrister held out an old book to me.

"...with a note attached \- Unravel the myth of a god and entity_ close to heart and blood and you shall find the key you seek."

I took the diary from the lawyer and studied it, turning it over in my hands as I tried to remember where I had heard or seen those words before.

He continued, "When you get the key, you get your inheritance, but there is a catch. If the key is not found one year from today, Michael's claim to Article B will be revoked and it will be donated to an orphanage of his choice."

"What!" Uncle Du exclaimed but no one paid attention to him, his sisters were murmuring in excitement to the lot they had inherited. Uncle Du repeated himself, this time with a startling higher pitch. We turned to meet his sadistic gaze, he said;

"Now i know Saad was clearly insane, he overlooked me and willed the entire of his assets to young Micheal; a sixteen year old nephew, only if he can solve a riddle which he definitely cannot. Shit! It's over. Saad has succeeded in having us lose out on his huge wealth, the stingy bastard. I never trusted him"

At this point my mother had had it up to her neck; she lost her smile and interrupted him.

"Hey!"

She shouted, confronting him,

"Insane you say! Perhaps maybe; Saad must have been insane to give your lazy, scheming, gambling ass a hundred grand. You deserve nothing, not even a penny."

"Well, I suppose you feel your ass deserves all Zaleka.

After all Saad was spending and giving a lot more than cash on that large ass of yours, y'all were working overtime." Uncle Du replied.

This was the first time I had heard him openly allude to an illicit relationship between Uncle Saad and my mother. Suddenly, the exchange of words erupted into a fight and they had to be separated. I was quiet throughout the exchange, focused only on trying to understand Uncle Saad's motive for willing it all to me and the contract clause.

After the long day, when everyone had calmed down a bit and gone home, mother decided we would stay at Uncle Saad's for the main time, so I went to the library with the diary. I opened the door to the library and locked it behind me, walked in and sat at Uncle Saad's table thinking about how old the diary appeared, then I opened it and began to read.

****

Standing still, filled with emotions and my heart incomplete; I hear the drizzle of the rain like a memory. It falls soft and warm, continuously tapping on my roof and walls. From the shelter of my mind, through the windows of my eyes, I gaze beyond the rain drops and drenched streets to Nigeria where my heart lies. My mind is distracted and my thoughts are many miles away; they lie with you when you are asleep, they kiss you when you start your day.

I spend my days writing poems I no longer believe in.

I have come to doubt all I once held true and now I stand alone without beliefs.

The only truth I know is you, my princess.

I have been apart from you for so long and I miss you so!

My sole purpose in life has been to find you since I lost you but days quickly turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years.

Decades and centuries have passed but I linger in time and emerge anew like a phoenix rising from its ashes.

My spirit, bound to Africa continues to be reborn and I stay true to my goal, for survival means nothing without you.

We wanted life, to live free in beautiful Africa.

Western Nigeria,

West Africa

1800s

Nature ruled, the air was pure and breathable with the fragrance of the wild trees and flowers of its great forests. Birds flew to heights humans envied and animals ran free in the wild. Every living thing owned the most special gift ever given; Freedom.

We were known as the Ogun clan and our society was like no other. We had no king, no monarchy, the people ruled and decisions were taken by the elders.

"Life is a beautiful story." my father once said.

Peace reigned supreme in all surrounding villages. Our men hunted and our women farmed the lands, harvesting fruits and crops while craftsmen, either male or female made the tools we used to hunt and farm and other tools for day to day activities.

My first parents were unable to have children and soon became very worried. My father sought advice from his friend, Maguni who advised him to seek help from the goddess Osun.

"Have your wife prepare her best dish and wine as appeasement for the goddess. Follow River Yewa until you meet the great tree, she shall ask you a question and the answer is always the same regardless of the question" Maguni instructed him.

So alone in the dark of the night, my father and mother set out in a canoe and paddled their way into the great River Yewa. They glided almost effortlessly along the river that seemed unending until it began to get misty. In the mist, they could barely see the vicinity but they clearly saw a huge dead tree ahead on a small island in the center of the river. They had arrived.

My father docked and secured his canoe and stood beside my mother with the food and wine at what seemed to be an entrance to the great tree. My mother was terrified, but my dad held her and gave her courage. The great tree shook his branches, yawning and opening his bright eyes.

"Who goes there?" he asked, in a loud baritone voice. "I hear her whimpering and it greatly displeases me."

"We are sorry great tree of Yewa, we come seeking the help of Mother Yewa, Osun." My father replied.

The great tree regarded them a while longer before saying "You must answer a riddle before the mother may see you." Father nodded.

" I have been around for ages, alas I am only a month older. Who am I?"

"The moon."

"You may enter." The great tree said, swiftly opening the door.

They entered and kept the food and wine where they saw other items had been deposited. A wooden bowl made from African timber stood ahead, filled with sparkling water; the tears of mothers.

Maguni had prepared them well. My mother walked up to the bowl, knelt in front of it and cried into it. She cried out loud, pouring out her pain in her native Yoruba language. Her tears dripped off her cheeks into the sacred wooden bowl and after she had finished, Osun, the Yoruba Orisha of love and sweet water, also known as the goddess of fertility, spoke to her in a sweet motherly tone,

"It is well my daughter. Your seed will grow and become a family tree of sweet fruits - but the first harvest is mine. When the child is born, you shall bring your placenta and the cloth used to wipe the blood from your labor to me because the harvest is mine. Your grandkids will be mine. Your lineage will be mine"

Thus my spirit was born as Osun granted their wishes.

CHAPTER I

My First Cycle

I was sent by Osun to my mother, fully aware of my person since my conception. While I lay in her womb, I often wondered what the world would look like. A world filled with beauty and magic, I thought and I waited impatiently for my delivery. My birth brought great joy and happiness to my family so I was named Ayo which means joy in Yoruba.

My name quickly became my person, I was always filled with joy. Hey! Coming from the realm of non-existence, where spirits dwell to the physical realm was a huge but happy shift for me. I was glad to be alive. Even as a child, I enjoyed each day like it was my last. I was dazzled by the beauty of Africa, from the great green turf; trees laden with fruits to the marshy lowlands and rivers. Osun! I love swimming.

The first time I saw my wife was at River Kota, she was a beauty to rival my beloved Africa. Ola was tall and ebony skinned with radiant long black hair. She wore a permanent friendly smile on her lips and her features were pinpoint accurate. She confiscated my heart, and there was no denying it. She was my other half.

The spaces between my fingers were a perfect fit for her fingers to go through and form our strong grip. We were happy together but it did not last long as the Europeans discovered Africa and the prospects of cheap labor. Slave hunters emerged from the night to attack our village and I was captured with a couple of others and separated from Ola. My once happy family was disrupted as the Europeans shipped us to lands unknown. I was bought by a plantation lord and sent to work in the farms but I never gave up, I tried unsuccessfully to find Ola, escaping the plantation and getting caught and beaten over and over again.

Alas, my right leg was taken from me by the plantation overseer who was tired of my continual escape attempts. After sixty years of slavery, I had become an old man. Age had caught on with my body and it began to wither, every ounce of strength left in me spent. My spirit was trapped again, this time not in my mother's womb but in my aging body. And like then, I began to grow impatient to leave my dying body and be reborn as the cycle flows.

****

August 15, 1910

It was a hot summer in America and the eighty-first year of my life. One hot afternoon, now a tired old slave, I laid under a tree seeking fresh air just in front of the plantation's swamp. The swamp was infested with frogs, and their never ending croaking could almost deafen a man. When their neighbors the crickets joined in, it turned into an unimaginable orchestra.

As I lay under the shade longing for the wind to cool my tired body, I began to feel slow and sleepy. Somehow, I knew that my time in my aching, aging body was coming to an end and I was glad to leave the enslaved, battered body that had been mine for eighty one years. I wore a smile of expectation on my face as I slipped into unconsciousness and my last words were "Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, I will conquer time and slavery and have you in my arms again", then I closed my eyes and my body released my spirit.

Just before opening my eyes I heard the nurse say "It's a boy." and I was handed over to my second mother. This time, I was born into an Eastern family and my second cycle began.

***

6 am

June 23, 2000

Beachfront, Victoria Island

Lagos, Nigeria.

Bayo

Bayo lay on a cushion at his balcony, his head hurt real bad, he was recovering from a hangover after a bout of late night drinking and while he lay still, trying not to wake up, the ocean waves blew with force creating a petite sand storm. The wind blew up particles of sand that reached Bayo up on his balcony and went through his nose, bringing his rest to an abrupt end. He forced himself up with every ounce of strength in him and did his best to defy gravity, trying not to fall. He dragged himself to the kitchen, checked for painkillers in Lisa's first aid box and made two cups of coffee.

He lived with his girlfriend very close to the beach and he loved the ocean breeze but not this morning. He had woken up with scarcely any recollection of last night, all he remembered was going drinking with Paul and Sam.

Why had he slept on the couch?, he tried to think. Had he upset Lisa?

Then it struck him that last night was their anniversary and she had made a dinner reservation at some fancy hotel months ago. After another long day at the office he had let Sam persuade him into taking an ecstasy pill which immediately sent off every bit of logic and sanity in him. Lisa had dined alone on what was supposed to be their special evening. What a silly boyfriend he was. Shit! He took a deep breath and exhaled, he dreaded facing her this morning.

Holding the two cups of coffee, he walked to the room they both shared, pausing to listen just before he knocked on the door. He heard nothing but the sound of the television so he knocked again, but there was still no reply. Growing impatient with suspense he reached for the handle and opened the door. She sat up on the bed holding a pillow to her chest.

"You only knock when you've been a bad boy." she said.

He gave her a wolfish smile, held up the steaming hot cup and said "Coffee!"

She shook her head, "You stood me up at a restaurant on our day and you apologize the morning after with coffee. Awl! How romantic. "

"I try, babe." he replied sheepishly.

Then she gave him an evil stare that would have terrified the devil himself. He knew she was serious now and he got down on his knees explaining and apologizing but she did not say a word, she just stared at him with a straight face. He knew what she wanted, so he let out a sigh and said "No more drugs."

"Promise?" she enquired, finding it hard to hide her satisfaction

"Promise."

"Then you are forgiven," she smiled, "but if you ever fuck with me again, I will fuck you right back up."

"My pleasure." Bayo replied with a naughty grin.

"Well you aren't getting off this easy if this ever happens again."

"You call this easy?" He let out a long whistle and they briefly shared a laugh before the news headline caught their attention.

"Breaking News: Girl murdered and raped in her Victoria Island home.

"News reporter Samuel Adenuga in a live conversation with journalist Lola Aina reporting live for Silverbed"

Samuel: Lola can you explain to us what exactly has happened?

Lola: Behind me is Melinda Gracen's home, the police have refused to let us into the house but we have word that Melinda Gracen was found dead in her room with a knife stuck in her back. She made an emergency call to 911 just before she died but unfortunately she had been dead for about ten minutes when she was found. She was murdered and raped at around 7am this morning in her Victoria Island apartment complex, a three bedroom flat in a six storey building.

Samuel : Her neighbors did not see or hear anything?

Lola : So far, no, they are still being questioned.

Samuel : What was her occupation? I think the police would consider questioning some of her colleagues. There has been mention of the possible involvement of another woman...

Lola: Yes, Zaleka Akeem. Zaleka and Melinda were flight attendants for Air Raven, a private domestic airline. They were assigned to flight 068 under Captain Jakonde and Co-pilot Michael Phillip. Their captains and colleagues believe there was no rift between them.

Samuel : Reports coming in say they shared the apartment.

Lola : Yes, Zaleka and Melinda were apparently really close. In Captain Jakonde's words, "They were best of friends". They have lived together since their college years, only briefly apart when Melinda was engaged to the co-pilot, Michael Phillip but the affair lasted for just a year.

Samuel: Her co-pilot was her lover! Has he been questioned by the police? Forgive me, but from experience, ex-lovers with grudges usually have a motive.

Lola: I understand, but Michael stopped working for the airline months ago, and he too is M. I. A. The police are searching for him as we speak.

Samuel : And Zaleka?

Lola: Zaleka is nowhere to be found. It was suggested she might have fled the scene of murder. Chief of Police Shonekan has declared her a suspect as fleeing might suggest guilt. There is a search underway for her and a presently unidentified man who was caught going into the building by a CCTV camera from a bank just opposite the building. The footage shows him running out just before the police arrive.

Samuel: And the CCTV recorded nothing else of anyone going in or coming out?

Lola: No. It shows both Zaleka and Melinda coming in last night but it does not show Zaleka leave, even after the unidentified suspect shows up and runs out. Zaleka and Melinda entered their home last night but Zaleka seems to have vanished as the CCTV does not show her leave.

Samuel: Is that all for the moment, Lola?

Lola: Well Samuel, we have just gotten word from the police headquarters that the fingerprints on the murder weapon match those of a Mr. Abdul Saad, a graduate from the Mamadu Bello University. The police have no picture of him now, but we will get one as soon as possible. He is considered armed and dangerous and that's all we have for now.

Samuel : Thank you Lola.

"Wow!" Was all Lisa could say.

Bayo was not pleased. "How come it's on my day off, beautiful stories like this come to light? Lola looks all puffed reporting. I hate..."

"I'm sorry, what? Beautiful stories?" Lisa interrupted.

"Well, you know what I mean..." he tried to save himself.

"No, I don't." Lisa replied

"You know what?" She continued, "You're just a selfish asshole. There's a dead girl who was raped and another missing girl and all you can think of is your disappointment that you're not the one reporting their malheur." She stood up, took off her clothes and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Can I join you?" he asked swiftly

"No! I wasn't joking when I called you an asshole."

***

Bayo was a tall, fair and handsome man in his late 30s. He had a star shaped birthmark on his forehead and although it was strange, he had grown to love it.

"My magic star." he often said when teased about it.

He grew up with his grandmother. He was told his parents died during the Nigerian civil war and his grandma often said they died as heroes. Well, they might have been heroes to a state that was never achieved but a certainty was that they had failed him, this was his resolution concerning his parents. Bayo was a very skilled journalist-cum-private eye. He plied his trade on Silverbed on a part time basis and they were thrilled to have him. When he first started working with Silverbed, he developed TV news shows and one in particularly rose to become the most watched show in West Africa. The Eye, it was called. On it he exposed corrupt politicians and government officials, he sniffed out injustice and corruption and broadcast it. He was the people's eye on the Government and dirty rich politicians.

He loved his job and was pretty good at it. He had an illustrious career but he let being loved by the people go to his head sometimes. He was well loved because he spoke for the poor and average man, he was known to always speak the truth even at the cost of his reputation and life. He often nursed secrete ambitions to indulge in politics but he feared political power might well influence him into corruption –which, meant he could become the very monsters he had spent so much years to expose, so he never bought into his political ambitions.

Bayo was infamous with the police because time after time, he exposed how lazy and incompetent they were at their jobs by solving crimes they couldn't.

His fame skyrocketed after a Nigerian billionaire, Ahmad Danjuma's only daughter Nusurat had been abducted for ransom and he was given a shot at it. He smartly manipulated negotiations with the criminals and with his help the police were able to track and rescue Nusurat, this made the entire country marvel at his skills. Before long, the rich from all over Africa began to seek his help with seemingly difficult cases and so he became a part-time private eye for the thrill of the hunt. He was rich and comfortable but something was missing from his life, he felt a deep void in him.

***

2016

Micheal

Michael was confused by what he was reading from his uncle's diary. Had Saad been insane, or was this just a fictional world he had buried himself in?

He stared up to the ceiling from where he sat, absentmindedly studying the chandelier and the ceiling beyond it. After some time, his eyes began to make out a shape he was familiar with. Perhaps, I'm a bit too close, he thought.

He stood up from the chair and moved forward to lie on the cold floor, giving himself a better view of the ceiling.

"Oh my!"

Staring at the ceiling from this vantage point, he realized the chandelier was not centered at the room for just its obvious positioning. It was also at the center of an engraved structure, the chandelier was at the center of a star.

In all the years he had been here, he had never noticed it. He was beginning to think the star was symbolic. It had to mean something. He was thinking hard and fast now, he walked around to study it better. After a while, he found some words scribbled on the ceiling but he could not make out the words so he took a pair of binoculars from the one of the drawers to get a better look. He could not understand the meaning of the words, they did not seem to be in any language he understood so he picked up his phone and took a picture of the writing then zoomed in on it to see if he would be able to read it then, but when he could not, he decided to search the web for it.

It was in an ancient Africana language and translated in English it read "My first star was taken from me as payment for the sins of my parents."

Getting a bit frustrated at the thought of having to solve another riddle, he cursed beneath his breath and sat down hard on the chair.

"Why did Uncle Saad rip pages off his diary?" He thought as he picked up the diary again. So many questions he needed answers to and the only person capable of answering them lay six feet below the earth. "Fictional or not," he thought to himself as he flipped pages to where he stopped, "this makes a very good story. Why not continue?"

***

____

1900

History of Nigeria

The Untold Truth (1)

The British officially assumed responsibility for Nigeria in ?1900 from a Nigerian company by paying a hefty sum of money. The British came to Nigeria as a result of a business deal. British posts were established throughout the country and in 1914, the British posts were amalgamated into one nation - Nigeria. Most countries are born out of shared ideals and a common identity but Nigeria was simply created to fill a business need; supplying goods and services to great Britain. Nigeria's revenue was majorly gotten from agriculture: the production of cocoa, cotton, wood, peanuts and other like that and after fifty years of colonial rule Nigerians began to fight for their self-government.

*****

CHAPTER II

My Second Cycle

My second cycle was very different from my first. The world had evolved, the African nations colonized by our captors and slavery had been long banished. We were one of many colonies under the Queen of England.

This time I was not an only child, I had seven siblings. My name was George Cadmus. My father was a very violent man, I didn't like him at all. He had just one good quality, he was very hardworking. He was almost never around because he was always working, we didn't exactly know what he did until he was arrested by the authorities for robbery, it broke my mother and her children's' heart to learn of his lynching. My mother was a nurse, a patient and loving woman and my brothers and sisters were quite lovely. Life was very simple.

Growing up, I hated the whites not caring that slavery had been abolished. I lost my Ola to their greed and now they dominated us, ruling over us in our own land. My purpose became to rid our nation of 'the white monkeys' and ensure peace reigned so Nigeria could have a stable and balanced nation and then we could rule ourselves again. I would find my Ola when this was achieved, when I had gotten rid of the very thing that had separated us and cut our love short.

I often spoke boldly to my people in class, church, and at meetings. The elders marveled at the knowledge and experience I seemed to possess in my young body. They believed I was a godsend, sent to free his people from the hands of Satan.

As the years passed, I grew and so did the number of my followers. I eventually won a scholarship to study political science at the University of Oxford, Great Britain and four years later, I returned to my country, sharpened and smarter. I was now a polished idealist, one of the first of my kind. I knew how to quietly go about things, I was also a motivational speaker. One of my memorable speeches helped bring Africans together to form the Pan-African movement.

In December 1945, at the age of twenty five, I joined the Pan-African movement with the likes of Mmandi Kiwe, Jaja A. Chuku, Fumbi Som Kuti, Adedoyina and Obafemi Balowo.

We held press conferences all over Europe, giving speeches and interviews in our complete traditional attires, and people listened. We were a force to be reckoned with. We showed the world that Africa now had brilliant minds. Our long term objective was for power to be completely handed over to us, we wanted the right to govern ourselves and decide our fate but we also wanted a smooth transition, a smooth transfer of power. It had to be handled slowly and meticulously. We wanted seats in power, placing our qualified people in important and deserved positions. That year, the Pan-African Congress was a success. We made an active body from a passive movement, Africa was moving ahead.

In October 1960, power was handed over to us and Nigeria was born as an independent nation. The British placed Tafa Zalewa, a Northerner as Prime Minister and Mmandi Kiwe as President. They were my very good friends. The Westerners, the Yoruba's, were placed as the opposition party and the NCN chief, Obafemi Balowo was not happy about it. He believed the Yoruba's had more right to rule.

We were too drunk on freedom to care, we were happy to be free from our colonial masters. Nigeria was looking up to a bright future as were many other African states. I had achieved what I set out to achieve many years ago. We had sent the whites out of our home. We had a stable and booming economy and there was peace. Now, the search for Ola could be continued.

***

Naked on my bed, I lay staring at the ceiling, a married woman by my side to comfort me. I had lost the comfort she'd provided hours ago, the moment climax was reached. Honestly, through all my travels I had hoped that I might by chance see Ola, that I might bump into her somewhere, but that did not happen. It had been over a hundred years but I still could not let go. I still ached for her, craved her breath, her smile, her touch, her face, and now the scariest thing was happening; her face had begun to fade from my memory. I'd hoped to find her before it did. Thinking about her, I felt anger surge through me. I hated the Europeans for what they had done. My eyes began to moisten, I tried to hold back tears but I was powerless as tears began to roll down my face and I cried silently in the dark. I had bottled up my feelings for so long. I cried hard for every bit of guilt, anger, hate, love and passion I felt. My sobs woke Uche and when she touched me, I flinched.

"It's okay." she said in her sweet voice, "Is it the nightmares again?"

" Yes."

"Was it her again?"

Again I replied, "Yes"

"Don't worry, you will find her."

" How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"I know you, George. You don't give up. You are a strong man and you are very determined. Moreover, as an adviser to the President you possess certain resources. A man of your skills... You will find her even if it's the last thing you do. You tell me this all the time." I smiled at this.

"Come here. We have a long day tomorrow." She said as she reached for me, again she made me feel better;

It least till I climaxed.

***

I had begun to run out of time again. I was in my early 40s and I had no lead on her whereabouts until Uche took me to an old lady in Bayelsa, her name was Mama Jaja. She was what you would call an old seer.

We sat on the floor in Mama Jaja's hut, a dirty little smelly place with what seemed to be a million cats. Mama Jaja was really old, hunched, and half blind and I got caught up for a second in the irony of things; a blind seer. She offered me her dirty palm. Uche told me beforehand what was expected of me and believe me, just hearing about it I thought it was bad but with her palm right in front my face I realized I was wrong, it was much more worse. She had licked her dirty, black palm with her tongue and it glistened with saliva, now I was to lick her palm.

God no, I thought.

Uche gave me a nudge and said "Just do it" in a harsh tone that scared me for a second.

I closed my eyes, held my breath and then I licked her hand. It was wet and slimy and it tasted and smelled strongly of garlic. She made a funny noise that I thought sounded like that of a cow about to be beheaded. I tilted my head to look at her. Mischievous old coon, what does licking her saliva and palm have to do with finding my wife?, I thought.

I did not realize I'd hissed out loud until Uche nudged me again and saying "Behave yourself".

The old woman suddenly stopped her comical display and said "You cannot find her because she cannot be found."

"What does that even mean?"

Uche nudged me again "Behave, George."

Mama Jaja continued, "The woman you seek has not been born. Unlike you, she is not a spirit of the earth, she has to be sent down from above. She has to be reincarnated in body but not spirit."

"Mama Jaja, how do we know when she is born or reincarnated again?" Uche asked indifferently.

Mama Jaja turned to me and held out her palm again.

"Ugh! Mary, mother of God." I said out loud.

Uche gave me a disapproving stare and I held the old woman's hand and licked it again. Again, it tasted of garlic. She kept quiet for some seconds and then she fetched something from her bag, threw it into her bowl and told me to pick it up. I picked it up and she said "Plant it. The moment it sprouts from the earth your woman is born again."

After the visit to Mama Jaja, I was saddened at the news we had gotten.

"What if Ola doesn't return to this time line?" I often thought.

I had gone through one lifetime in a foreign continent without her and was on the verge of going another lifetime without her. I concluded there was no other way for me, I had given all to her already. I was prepared to wait, I realized. I had hope. Ola was my hope.

If anyone else ever reads this, the person will be puzzled by the gaps in my story, puzzled as to who this character Uche is and how she knows about my bound spirit. Forgive me, for the fault is mine – misaligning my story. This journal is being written years after the incidents. The truth is, I am trying to put down my memories as I remember them in bits and pieces.

The purpose of recording this data is to ensure the preservation of important details from my past as I fear my brain might be deteriorating; memories from three cycles have caused some sort of amnesia from brain fatigue, I presume. You would think with the ability to be reborn retaining memories from past lives, my brain would be properly equipped to handle the amount of data it has had to process and store, but no, I have begun to forget things; mixing up information from the past and present.

This memo ensures I have a backup in case my brain fails me and I lose all memories of my past. I cannot afford to forget Ola. She is my hope. Forgive the bits and pieces I have written down here, I shall explain Uche's relevance to the story soon.

Working with Mmandi Kiwe, the President, had its perks but the tedious work took a lot of strength and energy from me each day. Nigeria was a new nation and we were responsible for setting a solid foundation. Things had to be done the right way to ensure the future of our nation. The right way had us working 24/7 with almost no time for ourselves.

At that time, Uche was the third wife of my friend, the head of the Eastern political party ENC and the first Minister of labor, Mr. Sunday Eboh. It had been an arranged marriage. Her father Ochukwu had given her hand in marriage to a man even older than himself to cement a business relationship.

I was a Special Adviser to the President and the Minister of Foreign Affairs. I was also the official National spokesperson and Uche was my direct assistant in my ministry. We worked long hours together in the office and working in close proximity to her became tempting. Her constant flirtation finally yielded and we gave in to the temptation. Uche was a lovely piece. Beautiful woman. She was short, adorable, sexy , and well endowed with hips and an ass that left men breathless in her wake.

She always had her hair pulled back from her face which made her look a decade younger. From the moment we met, we liked each other and I always felt like I knew her from a distant time, she was a kindred spirit. It puzzled me why my spirit felt drawn to her.

One evening, we stayed back after the day's work. The penthouse was our special place, we liked to drink, talk and smoke after a long day while watching the beautiful city lights. We had a killer view of the beautiful new city of Lagos from the penthouse and it was constantly inspiring to marvel at how development continued and improved on a day to day basis from where we stood.

We could see the lights from the island, the mainland and the airport, and we could watch planes arrive and depart from the Ikeja airport. That evening, she took my hands in hers and told me she knew my secret. She'd known from the first day she saw me and now, she said, she was going to reveal hers as she had come to know me and trust me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, slightly amused.

"I am like you, George, but unlike you I am much older. I have spent more years on this earth. You see, George, this is my fifth cycle."

"I don't understand what you mean, Uche" I lied as I disengaged my hands from hers.

" Oh my! You think you are the only one? There are thousands like us all over the earth."

She took off her top and said, "If permitted to live without the harvest, we and our offspring, our generation are marked with peculiar birthmarks" Hers was just by her left breast, it was shaped in the form of a crescent moon.

"Beautiful, huh?"

"Yes..."

"Your star is not so bad, the positioning is though. It is a dead giveaway, that's how I could tell the moment I saw you." She regarded me, smiled and said, "By nature, we don't do so well around each other, but I think we'll be alright."

Still amazed at what Uche had just revealed to me, I sat back on the couch and lit a cigarette. We were both quiet now, blowing streams of smoke out of our nostrils and lips. I began to realize this was probably the best thing that had happened to me in a longtime. I'd found someone I could be myself with, someone who would understand me, someone I could share things with.

"Wow!"

"What?"

" I'm glad you told me. I'm slowly getting pretty excited."

She giggled, "I share your excitement."

We stayed up all night telling each other everything. It was so much fun, more than I'd had in decades. She told me all she desired was someone to truly love. Her weakness was love, she could not help but fall in love. Staying loyal to one man was not a problem for her, the problem was that her men kept dying and leaving her behind, a jinx perhaps. So each time she had to start all over again.

"I want infinite love, George. I want to be with one man forever until the end of time. If there is an end"

I told her about my Ola, the search and how the odds of finding her seemed slimmer each year.

"Awww! I am inspired. It almost sounds like a cliché love story. She is a lucky woman. I wish I had a man going against all odds to find and reclaim me."

She appeared sad for a moment and then said "Tell you what? I will help you find her. It will be my pleasure to see you reunited with your love."

"Thank you, Uche."

She took another deep drag from her cigarette. "I told you, it will be a pleasure."

****

History of Nigeria

The Untold Truth(2)

Uche's husband, Chief Sunday Eboh was a close friend of Mmandi Kiwe and I. An Easterner, he was Nigeria's first Minister of Labor, he and Mmandi were the leaders of the Eastern political party, ENC. Nigerian politics was clearly divided by ethnic lines and as a result of the number of seats held by the North in parliament, major parliamentary decisions could not be taken if opposed by the North. For the south it was clear that the only way they could take power was either through constitutional amendment, which was highly unlikely or through violence.

The creation of a Mid-Western state was led by Dennis Osademay on August 9, 1963. It highlighted the issue of the homogenous make up of the South. The Mid-West was home to the Edos, Urhobos, Ijaws, Itsekiris and other tribes. The grouping of Nigeria into three major regions largely ignored these and other tribes considered minority tribes in Nigeria and the creation of a new state had the positive effect of adding a new voice to national politics.

However, the negative impact was that it made the North even stronger. In 1962, ACC, the political party made up of majorly westerners, split over a rift between Balowo and Adetola, the minister of the Western region. Madunkin was made the acting Minister of the West and he placed all the political heads in the West on house arrest pending an investigation. Balowo was soon accused of using public money to finance ACC. The court also found evidence of conspiracy in his government. Balowo was charged with treason, his associate Azeez Jakonde and others were also charged with similar offences and they were sentenced to ten years imprisonment. With all these dynamic politicians in prison, the public began to doubt civilian governance.

Soon, violence erupted in the western region and almost two thousand people were killed in the fight for power. The Nigerian army watched from the sidelines, getting increasingly frustrated as civilian leaders fought for power. Due to increased violence, they were deployed to police the elections, they watched as people stuffed ballot boxes and common Nigerians begged them to intervene.

All these caused the younger officers to take an unorthodox action, the first Nigerian coup. Before the coup, I was abducted from my home, blind folded and taken to a military base. I was kept in a dark room for hours. Finally, a man walked in. As he spoke I could tell he was Eastern from his accent, I tried to plead in Igbo but he cut me off and said "Listen, we know you are a good man. We require your service after this coup."

At that time, I was not aware of the coup so I was startled at the mention of a coup.

"Coup!"

"Yes," he said firmly, "Coup."

"The present civilian government will be overthrown and we need you to do your job and address the world and our nation. The world must believe the military is doing what is best for the nation."

I could sense there were more people in the room, other than the man briefing me. I listened hard, trying to see if I could make anything out of their whispers and it struck me! I knew the identity of some of these men.

The Igbos have always had a very strong sense of ethnical socialization, forming communities wherever they are. At that time, these communities had secret societies in them. They were meant for the elite, as a way to help watch each other's backs while away from their home in the East, and as a politician from the East I was a part of this. A major problem the community faced was the seeming inability of the officers and the politicians to agree on anything. Order and secrecy were maintained by a system the Europeans invented. Hierarchy.

As in the military, there was a chain of command. The higher you grew in rank, the more information you got access to. The officers in the room and I belonged to the same secret society. Perhaps, that was why I was not hurt or killed.

Some of the top officers in our community were my friends and I could hear some of them in there.

Sitting there in that dark room, I came up with the theory that the Igbo officers had gone behind the community, going against the politicians and seizing power from the government. I was alarmed at the possibility of my theory. If I was correct, these officers were treading in dangerous waters as seizing power meant taking over a lot of seats occupied by Northerners and I did not think the North would give in quietly. They would retaliate! Possibly causing a civil uprising.

Things fell apart pretty fast after that.

***

In August 1965, the army was forced to plot and overthrow the civilian corrupt government as a result of political decline. Major coup plotters were:

  * Major Ojukwu; 30 years of age, Intelligence/infantry, trained in Sandhurst, England, Chief Instructor – NMCT, Kaduna,

  * Major Uforo – 35 years old, trained also in Sandhurst England

  * Major Moyega – 31 years old – he would go on to write the book 'Why We Struck', an account of the coup

  * Major Okoro- Commander of the federal guards.

In an interview, army spokesperson, Lt. Salihu said "Our enemies are the political profiteers, swindlers, the men in high and low places that seek bribes and demand illegal settlements, they are those that seek to keep the country divided permanently so that they can remain in office as Ministers or VIPs."

The plan was to strike simultaneously in regional capitals and arrest leading politicians. An order was given to kill all senior army officers and anyone who resisted, to prevent troop movement, block River Niger and Benue and to avoid reprisals.

The Commonwealth conference was used as a distraction. Attacks began in Kaduna, Ibadan and Lagos, blockades were set up at River Niger and Benue to prevent resistance troops at Kaduna. The plan was to assassinate Mamadu Bello and Brigadier Mulegun and abduct Azeez Ibrahim and Akaman Bidaat. In Ibadan, there were two groups and two major targets. One of them, Adetola, resisted arrest and fought back with a machine gun and the other, Aniku kayode was abducted.

In Lagos, there were three target groups;

Group A – Leaders like Prime Minister Zalewa and Eboh Sunday, Minister of labor and Uche's husband.

Group B – Senior officers like Egonsi, the head of the army, Pam and Largema

And Group C - Politicians like Jekodun, Shagari, Chuku and Wada.

Egonsi survived but Zalewa and Sunday Eboh were assassinated. Uche lost another husband, her streak lived on.

The coup plotters were not successful in taking over power but they crippled the government. They fled Lagos to unknown locations as the blockades they had set up were broken by a resistance force led by Major Akinimi.

After the coup, what was left of the civilian government handed power over to the military and Nigeria became a dictatorship. Egonsi took over as the military head of state. He was 42 years old at that time, the first Nigerian to ever head the Nigerian army.

Egonsi did something that made his seat in power vulnerable; he did not execute the coup plotters instead he announced unification. This mistake led to his overthrow and death.

***

Biafra

1966-1970

In 1966, after seven months in power, Egonsi's government was overthrown in a Northern counter coup. Events that led to the coup started off in Abuja where Northern soldiers began a massacre of Eastern soldiers, it then spread all over Nigeria and became full scale insurgency. The Northern counter coup was inevitable as the previous coup was basically committed by Easterners.

Egonsi was in Ibadan when his guards turned on him. He was dragged into the bush, heavily beaten and then murdered. Two Northerners played prominent roles in the coup, the first was Ritala Mohammed, he was the mastermind. A UK educated officer, his initial objective was to take the North out of Nigeria to become an independent nation. The second major plotter was Juma, an officer who was in charge of Egonsi's personal guards.

With the ongoing massacre, Igbos began to flee the North and the West, returning back home to the East. They were received by the military governor appointed by Egonsi, Lieutenant Colonel Ochukwu, Uche's father.

Uche had lost her husband in the first coup and after the Northern counter coup, we made plans to move to the East. We traveled together in a helicopter Ochukwu had sent to fetch us. He had heard a lot about me from the Zalewa-Mmandi Administration and Egonsi's military administration and he offered me a job as Spokesperson and Special adviser to the Eastern government. I swiftly accepted as I was afraid for my life and wanted to leave the West as soon as possible.

Meeting Ochukwu, I was impressed, his personality was far above my expectations. He was tall, funny, charismatic, an idealist and loyal to his people. I could tell all of this from our first meeting together. He told me his plans straightaway, plans of a new republic; Biafra. He wanted to take his people away from Nigeria and he was willing to fight for that. Oil had been discovered in the East and he thought the oil would ultimately pay the debt of war.

I bought into the idea but I had one major concern; Supply routes. These would be controlled by Nigeria as soon as war commenced. I told him this and he told me we were going to get help from foreign nations, all he expected of me was a proper execution of my diplomatic duties and we would not have to depend on Nigerian routes for supplies.

Meanwhile in Lagos, the Northerners, Westerners and a few foreign ambassadors were having talks on how to move Nigeria forward. The Northerners decided to appoint their highest ranking officer, Lt. Col. Yakubu Jhowon as Supreme Commander of the Nigerian Armed Forces in place of Ritala who had led the coup.

Ritala would never forgive Jhowon for this. Jhowon was just 31, a Christian from the middle belt. When Ochukwu heard of his appointment, he immediately rejected this as even though Jhowon was the highest ranking officer from the North, he was not the highest ranking military officer.

Thus began the events that lead to the Nigerian civil war.

Ochukwu wanted to take the Igbos out of Nigeria and wanted Balowo upon his release to do the same for the Yorubas, but Balowo was not stupid. Oil had been discovered in the East and it had become clear how much could be made out of it, so Balowo formed an alliance with the North and together they agreed to work for the unity of Nigeria. A meeting was held in Ghana to try and negotiate a treaty but despite the treaty, a war broke out. Things did not work out.

They say evil prevails when good men refuse to act.

Jhowon announced the beginning of hostility towards Biafra on national news. "We are fighting this war in order to prevent the disintegration of this nation".

And to this, Ochukwu said "If civil war does come, and I think it is eminent, it would be for the cause of freedom. Our people have been prepared for this eventuality for a long time and I am confident of their readiness. I think that when it does come, the people on the other side will be surprised at what they are going to get, and I am also confident that it will not last long."

Uche and I were tasked to find European allies. We flew all over Europe on diplomatic missions seeking alliance for the war that was at our doorstep. The United Kingdom was firmly behind Nigeria, even after offering them a lucrative oil deal, we were rejected. Other European nations simply did not want to get involved. Just when we had lost all hope, the French ambassador called and requested a sit down.

The French love revolution. The very foundation of democratic France was as a result of a revolution that abolished monarchy.

"We are in it for the glory. We responded when America needed us during the American Revolution and then also, it was for the glory, but times have changed, Mr. Cadmus. What is your offer?"

***

I was on the run, being chased by dogs. The heavy snow restricted my movement. I kept running, lungs heavy, a panicky feeling in my chest. I could hear the howling and barking getting closer and closer. I was not sure I could keep up the pace, then I heard a snarling sound from behind and as I turned, it pounced on me. I screamed and woke up from sleep.

Uche was up already, stroking my back "It's okay. It's only a nightmare, they can't get you here."

Chest pounding, I could only say "Thank you."

It was two in the morning. I stood up and poured myself a glass of water, put on the radio and went out to the balcony.

"Paris is beautiful."

"I know." Uche replied from the room, "You know I'm not blind, you don't have to keep stating the obvious."

I laughed a bit. She got out of bed naked and joined me at the balcony.

"I get what you mean, she is beautiful." She smiled and regarded me expecting a verbal attack.

"I don't do petty." I said, correctly reading her facial expression.

From where we stood, Paris was magnificent. The Eiffel tower stood bold and proud and tall buildings lit up its surrounding space. The air smelt wonderful and pure.

"My, my... This is a country."

Uche poked me with her middle finger "You okay?"

"Am I ever?"

"I know right. With you there's always something, so what exactly is it now?"

"The French agreed to supply food and weapons only. No French soldier will fight on Nigerian or Biafran soil, they want nothing to do with combat."

"Oh Romeo, You worry too much! We are bound spirits which is very close to immortality. You should have fun, be happy and enjoy yourself while you can."

"And I suppose you know how I can have fun when our country is on the brink of war?"

She pushed me to the settee. "Yes actually. Yes, I do" And then she stood, body bathed in city lights and she let me watch her.

"Uche, now isn't the..."

" Shh..." she shushed me.

She took some steps back. I have never forgotten how beautiful she appeared in that moment. The reflection of the city lights made her glow, I had never seen her that beautiful. Her body was unique, her hips curved out, her belly flat, her breasts plump and full, full of promises to come. She walked towards me slowly and seductively, maintaining eye contact, she knelt and crawled up to me, ass raised slightly. I wanted to get up and reach for her but I found I could not, her eyes had me locked in her world. She finally got to me and sat on my laps, found my left palm and lifted it up to her breast, filling my palm with her warm, soft breast. I could feel her heart beating as she whispered into my ears.

"I want you, baby. Rock my world."

Her warm tender lips touched mine and the landline sprang to life, ringing violently and startling us. She regarded me and smiled "Saved by the bell...this time."

It was Ochukwu.

"George, it has started. Nigerian forces crossed into Biafran territory hours ago, there has been steady gun fire for more than five hours now. I read your report. Good work. Weaponry and ammunition from the French would help us. Report back home ASAP, I need you here."

"Okay, General." I replied and he ended the call. Ochukwu had become a general in the Biafran army after the East expressed their wish to separate from Nigeria and drew back to prepare for a war that seemed inevitable. I thought the new title suited him.

"What did he say?" Uche asked.

"He wants us to report home ASAP, the war has started. He says there has been a heavy exchange of gun fire at the border for over five hours now."

She kept quite as I started packing my things. I turned to her and noticed she was sitting there immobile, watching me. "Hey! get your things ready we are leaving."

"I am not going with you, George." she said, "Look, we can remain here in Paris until the war is over."

"No. No, Uche. It is our duty to fight for what is right and what is ours. Where is your sense of patriotism?"

"I lost it cycles ago," she replied, "I am obligated to no one but myself and my duty to myself is to survive. Come on, George, we can start afresh here." she urged, "Biafra stands no chance against the Nigerians, the only hope we had was forming an alliance. An alliance that would help us win the war but we have failed at that."

"I am disappointed in you."

" Think, George! Please think!"

"If you are not going to change your mind, I guess this is goodbye then. Goodbye, Uche."

***

There were six mercenaries in charge of about four thousand commandos. These mercenaries used only their war names; their leader was called Alpha Dog, the others were Big Bale, Marco the Brave, Yemen the Hunter, Pit Bull and the youngest, Machine. They were professional fighters and brilliant tacticians employed by Ochukwu a year before to train the Biafran army. Before the war, during preparations they told me we needed anti-tank missiles which I arranged for with the French. They had studied the landscape of Biafra knowing we were outmatched and outgunned. The only way to ensure victory was by precise, detailed strategy and using our environment to our advantage.

When I returned to Biafra from Paris the next day, I was led immediately to the war room. I met every one on the war council there. Many of them were high ranking officers who had defected and Ochukwu and the mercenaries stood at the table before them. Ochukwu was clearly happy to see me, he pointed out a spot he'd kept vacant for me. I sat quietly listening to the officers argue and plan and after about thirty minutes, they were satisfied with their plans and they left the room one after another.

Ochukwu motioned for me to come over when we were alone. He asked how soon the anti-tank missiles would be delivered and when I told him they would arrive in a week's time, he informed me I had three days to get them delivered. He did not ask about Uche and I did not volunteer information.

"Nigerian tanks have blasted through our border outpost and they have taken over our Western border. Our men had to fall back as we have nothing strong enough to neutralize the tanks. If we wait one week, they will advance and get to us. We cannot afford to have them get this far. Am I clear?

"Yes, sir. I'll try, Sir"

"Don't try. Get it done."

I spent the next couple of hours trying to sweet talk the French into delivering the anti-tank weaponry earlier than planned. The best deal I could get was four days.

The next three days were crucial as the Biafran army changed strategy. Knowing we could not face off the Nigerian troops with their tanks protecting them, we lured them into a city they believed we needed to protect after evacuating the city, by deploying small teams led by commandos to carry out brief assaults and draw back. We knew they would believe we were retreating and keep on advancing and we carried on, knowing our anti-tank missiles would arrive any day now.

When the Nigerian army got to the city, we were prepared, our missiles had arrived and they were ready. As they got in range, we let hell loose on the Nigerian army and destroyed all their tanks. Their troops now vulnerable, machine guns took out a majority of them and those of them that retreated into the nearby forest had a blast as the mines we had planted went off in hundreds, creating beautiful disco sounds you would dance to if you were not in the forest. The damage we had done was beautiful anarchy.

The explosions were glorious as the unexpected French arsenal shun a light of hope for us, a light that showed a nation had come to stay.

As they retreated, Pitbull, one of the mercenaries screamed, "This is Biafra, you dogs!!!" in his German accent. That had to be the best part of the war for me, being there when we won our first victory. Listening to him scream that at the Nigerians made something in me roar and push to be released, I was willing to fight to the end for Biafra and so was every Biafran present that day.

The Nigerians had underestimated us and paid the price, losing tanks and soldiers. We celebrated all night and Ochukwu congratulated his army and said that this was but the first victory to come.

We re-established our border post and waited for another assault. Meanwhile, the Nigerians took steps in ensuring all supply routes leading to Biafra were blocked. Land, sea, river, and air routes were effectively blocked. This became a problem for us as the French could not supply resources and weapons without breaking the United Nations treaty, documents had to be filed for the treaty to be amended. All this took time and everything seemed to be working in Nigeria's favor. This was their plan, to effectively cut us off from the rest of the world. Our people began to starve as resources were not enough for the populace. The army got rations first, before civilians.

Nigeria waited, watching us suffer and starve, waiting to have us too weak to fight. We had come to realize this. Soon after, a plane flew over our farming fields where our few resources were produced, pouring acid and effectively poisoning the plants and soil. This caused a man-made famine, an even bigger problem.

Biafrans suffered even more, children died of starvation and malnutrition, soldiers began to fall ill and the mercenaries who could not stand any more suffering terminated their contacts with Ochukwu. Our next step was to appeal to the world again and beg for help but no one answered. I spoke for long hours with the French ambassador enquiring how the policy amendment was going, he then explained to me that his country had found it fit not to interfere with our civil war and that they could not gamble with the outcome of the war as things were clearly in Nigeria's favor, he concluded by advising me to surrender to Nigeria's forces. The best thing to do, he said but Ochukwu would not hear words of surrender, even after a lengthy conversation.

After months of waiting, Nigerian forces began to invade, easily seizing our border post and moving into cities, killing every resistance in their way. We waited and set all arms at our disposal to defending the the capital to our last breath. Even I was armed.

Ochukwu and I were responsible for the last tactical plan as every other high ranking officer was either dead or had deserted. We had mines planted around the border of the capital and booby traps were set around the city. Ochukwu had made up his mind to die and take as many Nigeria soldiers as possible, he gave what he called his last speech and declared he was proud to die at arms with his brothers.

"I choose to die no other way than this way, with a gun in my hands, fighting for my people and my country's freedom. To all of you that remain by my side at this moment, you have fought the temptation of deserting and you have chosen to fight, and to die for the most precious gift ever given to man... Freedom!!!" He shouted out loud, veins bulging out of his head and saliva flying out of his mouth, and they replied with such gusto. Before this speech, I had seen fear on the faces of these men but now, that fear was gone, replaced by pride and determination as they screamed back at him.

They oozed of confidence, they reeked of determination, the hunger was forgotten, Ochukwu had fuelled them with rage. Just then we heard the sound of tanks and vehicles, closing in on us. Some must have gotten close enough because the mines were set off.

Ochukwu shook with rage and courage, facing them, the sound of mines going off in the background and he screamed "On this day, world shall remember that when they chose to forsake us, with all hope lost, outgunned, outnumbered and outmatched, we stood to fight for our beliefs. This day shall be recorded in history so let us give our generation a story worth telling. A history they shall forever be proud of. For Biafra!!! Let them feel our rage!"

I had tears in my eyes, I could feel blood pumping in my chest, the soldiers were inspired with rage, shouting and screaming and I was right there, screaming along with them, ready to die for Biafra.

It wasn't pretty, we fought with every ounce of strength we had left, we fought hard, taking as much lives as we could with us. In the thick of battle, a bomb struck near where some soldiers and I were fighting and it felt like my ear drums had been destroyed, I could hardly hear a thing. I managed to crawl out from the destroyed layer, clawing my way out of the sand, I crawled over to where there was some cover and sat. I was badly injured, my left elbow had been fractured. I sat still, not hearing the sound of bombs going off or bullets whizzing past.

Deafened but under cover, I was able to watch the battle at a slower pace. Soldiers dropping to the ground as bullets hit them, explosions from bombs being detonated and dead men lying in a puddle of their own blood. Bullets holes designed the capital's walls, the buildings I could see were on fire, burning as soldiers fell out from windows dancing to the tune of the fire in their heads.

From a distance, I saw Ochukwu and his guards around him, shooting and retreating with him at the center of their formation. I felt disgust run through me watching him retreat.

Liar, I tried to say but I could not seem to make my mouth form the words, it was painful to say just that one word.

As I watched from my cover, his soldiers uncovered a helipad and a chopper stood on standby, Ochukwu got into the helicopter with two other soldiers and the engine came alive. The rest of his merry band began to receive fire from the chopper as they tried to board, some of them were shot down and the chopper flew off leaving the rest stranded and left for certain death.

I just sat and cursed under my breath, my cover was a huge fallen tree. I rolled with all my effort into a small space between the tree and the hard dirt tree and dragged a body to cover me. I lay on my belly looking outside through a crack as the last of the resistance were either killed or captured.

The Nigerian army searched the derelict burning buildings for any resistance but could find none. I lay quiet as they invaded and set camp in the capital. I was tired and fell asleep in my hideout. When I woke up hours later, It was evening so I decided to try and make a run for it. As I crawled out, my heart jumped as someone grabbed my boot. A low voice quickly said, "Quiet! I'm friendly."

I calmed myself enough to ask, "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough." he whispered, "You can't go out there, you will blow our cover. There's someone on my side of the tree, we wait till he's gone and then make for the building. We should be able to get shelter there."

We waited for a while for the soldier to move away and when he did, we watched to make sure he was not coming back anytime soon. We moved out immediately and cautiously made our way for the building.

We could not find any food but we found some water, some cigarettes, a matchbox, a gin bottle, a knife, some bandages and a pair of binoculars. I was so thirsty we almost fought for the last cup of water.

He regarded me and said, "You need help with your elbow, better now than later."

I nodded. I found a small stick, put it between my teeth and bit down hard on it to keep myself from crying out as he straightened my elbow. The pain almost made me faint, there was so much sweat dripping from my brow when he was done.

When he was satisfied he had done it right, he took a long drag from the whiskey bottle and offered it to me. I picked it up with my good arm and also took a long drag.

"Now, how do we escape?" he asked, "I'm Nzeagwu by the way."

"I am..." I started to say but he cut me short.

"I know who you are. How do we escape?" he repeated.

"I have no good ideas." I said.

"Then maybe it's time for bad ones."

I smirked. "Okay then, we have to wait for the full cover of the night to avoid any one sighting us. We will need uniforms and a vehicle to get out of here." The war had turned me from spokesman to tactician.

"Sounds solid."

"But we cannot use a gun."

"Of course I know that."

We agreed on the plan and waited. I lit a cigarette as I became anxious, my fingers were shaky, My elbow hurt and I realized I could only hear properly from my left ear. Scenes from the battle began to play over in my head; the bombs, the blood, and the bodies. Oh god!

Nzeagwu hit the cigarette away from my hand and crushed it with his boots. I turned to meet his furious eyes.

"What are you thinking, lighting up a cigarette?!"

"I'm sorry... I wasn'.."

"I've been signaling you to switch off the cigarette!" he whispered furiously, "A soldier just entered the building, we will be in trouble if we don't take care of him."

We took positions beside the doorway, flanking him as he followed the scent of the cigarette into the room. Using a copper wire Nzeagwu grabbed his neck from behind, he strangulated the soldier hard, all the soldier could do was gasp for air that never came, he struggled with Nzeagwu for a while but lost the fight early, Nzeagwu held on strangulating him tight until the soldiers neck snapped. I caught the body to avoid it making huge thud on the wooden surface. He was quite heavy. Nzeagwu knelt just by the corpse, immediately taking off his own biafran uniform

"That's one uniform." He said smiling.

He picked up the soldiers rifle and began to undress the corpse, he worked on the buttons, the helmet of the corpse rolled to my feet. I picked it up to examine. Inside the helmet was a picture of the soldier with two young boys that resembled him. I was pricked with pain.

These boys had just lost their father at our hands, I thought.

Agwu must have seen the expression on my face for he said, "It would have been us or him don't you forget that. This is a war."

I regarded him and managed a smile. "Correction. This was a war."

"We shall see."

We laid low and waited for movement to die off around the city and as I sat waiting, I started to think about this man Nzeagwu, I had seen him a couple of times around camp but we had never really had any dealings with each other so I knew nothing about him.

When we felt it was dark enough and calm enough to move, we moved out to execute our escape plans. Nzeagwu moved steadily and confidently. Unlike me, he obviously had a military background.

We got to a pathway and Nzeagwu signaled me to stop, a soldier stood up ahead, peeing into the darkness. Nzeagwu quietly made his way to the soldier, the soldier seemed to sense his presence as he got close and before he could zip up his trousers and turn around, Nzeagwu was behind him, one hand over his mouth, the other holding the knife planted into his back.

"That makes two. Get dressed" He said without looking at me. He was already dressed in the first uniform. "We have to move now before they realize they are missing. Do you drive well?"

I nodded as I hurriedly took off my clothes and put on the uniform.

"Okay, that's good. Let's go." I had finished dressing up.

We got to the streets of the city and moved casually, like we belonged. We walked down to where most of their vehicles were parked, the place was without guards for some reason. They probably thought they had nothing to worry about with most of us either dead or captured. I picked a ______ and got into the driver's seat.

"Get ready to move. I need to do something" Nzeagwu told me, moving off before I could say anything. Soon, I heard a loud blast from the east wing and raised voices as an alarm went off. I turned to find Nzeagwu running towards me, panting.

"Start the car!" he screamed as he got into the passenger's seat "Drive!"

***

Prominent Nigerians who fought in the war included Aradua, Ben Saro Biwa, Ibrahim Fabangida, Benjamin Kunle, Segun Sanjo, all men who later played important roles in the country.

Jhowon declared that there was "No Victor, No Vanquished" and insisted on treating the Igbos fairly after the war. The Igbos were docile, with every top commander or politician either dead, imprisoned or in hiding. Weeks after the end of the war, top Eastern politicians and officers were released and brought to the state house in Lagos where they publicly denounced Biafra on national television. They thanked the Nigerian government for forgiving them and accepting them back into the nation. Jhowon then commissioned the rebuilding of all the destroyed buildings, bridges and facilities and gave the order for civilian wealth to be restored but the Igbos had lost almost everything. I re-emerged from the shadows as an ordinary civilian and gave myself up to the government. I was questioned for days, they wanted to know of Ochukwu's whereabouts and I told them I was not sure he had survived the last raid. After their investigations, they decided I was clean and they let me go.

My wealth was still intact as I had practiced offshore banking. I stayed quiet for a couple more years watching from the sidelines, coup after coup in the fight for power. I could not care less at that point because all I wanted was my Ola. I had managed to keep the seed safe during war and now I stayed waiting for the seed to grow, for Ola to be reborn, but the seed never grew so I tried to distract myself by enjoying life a little, but I did a miserable job.

I kept to myself, my only companions were my dogs; General and Major. I lived in a simple duplex I had bought, simple on the outside but a beauty on the inside. Well equipped with a pool, a tennis court and a two car garage, Every item in the interior was the best money could buy. I came home each day with different prostitutes, purposely trying not to get attached to any human.

Sometimes, I thought of my second family; my mother and siblings. Before the war, I sent her huge sums of cash to leave the country but I did not know if she left with any of my siblings. I had grown unattached to my siblings, I'd left home, got caught up in the pursuit of freedom and never regarded behind. Now, I was a man in my fifties without a wife and family.

***

I woke up from another nightmare panting, bed soaked in sweat. The naked woman by my side opened her eyes and asked "Are you okay?"

With her dull eyes, she appeared to care less. She was a prostitute I had picked up the night before.

"I'm fine, Fola."

"It's Titi."

"Whatever." I heard the phone ring and I reached out to pick up the call.

"Oh Romeo!!! My sweet Romeo, how art thou?" A woman's voice said over the phone.

My heart began to race when I heard her voice over the phone. A part of me wanted to be angry at what I considered her betrayal and the other part was just happy to hear from her. I kept quiet for a while, conflicted, trying to decide whether to be angry or show my delight. She kept quiet too as if waiting for me to decide.

Then I heard her say "I'm sorry, Romeo." and I burst into tears.

She could hear me cry, "It's okay." she said as she began to cry also. After we had gotten it out of our system, she told me she'd missed me.

" Me too, Juliet"

"There you go." she said, still sniffling.

"Where are you?" I enquired.

"In Lagos. I just got back from Paris last week"

"You have been there all this time?"

"Yes and no. Aren't you going to ask how I got your number?" she asked.

"I did not want to give you the satisfaction," I replied, "And I know how resourceful you can be. I am sure you know where I live too."

"Of course I do."

" How quick can you be here?"

"Err... 20minutes. That should give you enough time to get rid of the whore you picked up last night."

I smiled, picked up the landline and began to walk to the kitchen. I was beginning to feel more alive than I had felt in a long time.

"You don't say... Do I detect a tone of jealousy?"

"I don't do petty" She said and ended the call. The whole exchange made me smile. I went back into the bedroom to get the prostitute out before the allotted 20 minutes.

Exactly 20 minutes later, the bell rang as I was escorting the woman out of the house. She had purposely wasted time insisting she needed a shower before leaving and I had let her. When I opened the door, the only true friend I had in the world stood right in front of me.

"It's been five years." She said.

"And you still look a decade younger. How do you do it?" I replied.

She smiled and let herself go as she jumped into my arms, I held her up and spun around in circles until we both felt a bit dizzy and then the prostitute cleared her throat and spoke to me.

"I'm leaving now."

"Okay, Bolu."

"It's Titi!"

"Whatever." I said again.

"Oshi." She said as she hissed and walked out of the door, slamming the door behind her and I turned to look at Uche again.

"She's pretty," Uche said "I see your taste in beauty hasn't depreciated."

"Can it ever? Even when I seek blind I score." We laughed as I led her in.

"Very posh." She said as she observed my apartment and chose a place on the couch to sit.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I would like you served dripping wet and naked with a bow tie on, on a silver tray."

"You know I don't do bow ties, but I could make the other things work. Are you sure it's me you want though?" I teased.

"Yes. I have to kill this fever you left in me 5years ago, at Hôtel Le Charm à Paris."

"I see." I smiled, walked over to her and pulled her to me, "Let's get right to it then."

***

Hours later, we sat facing each other in my bathtub, filled with warm soapy water, her little feet on my chest. She stared straight into my eyes.

"We could have handled Paris a lot better than we did."

"It's in the past now." I said.

She picked up a cigarette from the pack at the edge of the tub, offered one to me and took one for herself, put it between her lips and lit it. She took a deep drag, closed her eyes and held on to the smoke for some seconds and then let go, cigarette smoke spilling from her nostrils.

"I have something to tell you," she said, "When last did you call your mother?"

"Erm... before the war. Why?"

"Wow! Detached! It normally isn't easy to detach ourselves from our parents. As bound spirits, we have no regard for our earthly siblings, but male spirits are normally attached to their mothers, and fathers are the females' weaknesses. They bind us to reality in the physical realm so it is much harder to detach from them..."

"I still love my mother very much." I interrupted.

"So, why haven't you reached out to her in five years?"

I stammered a bit and then said, "...to keep her safe. She believes I died at war, I would have it remain so. This way I am obligated to no one."

"Well if you had called your mum you would know that you have a son."

"A son? Wait. What? How?!"

"From me. It's been five years, George. He was conceived the night you left Paris."

"But... isn't Osun supposed to claim him?" I asked.

"Not always," she replied, "I named him Bayo."

"Why Bayo?"

"Because you were named Ayo. He is your son, he even came with your mark on his forehead, so I chose Bayo."

"You don't say," I replied sarcastically. "Fuck me!" I said out loud.

"No baby, I'm exhausted, I don't think I can for the next two days." She replied with a mischievous smile on her lips.

The water had grown cold between us. I stood and fetched myself a towel.

"No baby, don't go." she cried out, "But why is this upsetting you this much? He's okay with his grandma and cousins."

Without speaking, I rinsed off every trace of soap on my body, toweled myself dry and left for the kitchen. By the time she came out, I was sitting in the dining room, a cigarette and a bottle of beer in my hand.

She joined me at the table and said, "I see some things don't change."

"Excuse me?"

"You're still as stiff as always." she said. I shook my head.

"He is where he should be, George. You have to understand that."

I turned to her.

"I have a son and I have been absent for the best part of his childhood. He will never forgive me when he becomes a man."

"No." She said, "He will believe you were a war hero, fighting for his future and dying for what you believed in."

"Bayo... I have a boy..." I whispered to myself then raised my eyes to meet hers. "You gave me a boy."

***

Over the next couple of months, Uche and I spent quality time together. ___We flew out to Europe, saw the Wimbledon finals live. We went sky diving in Belgium , scuba diving in Cuba, visited museums, large historical centers and the cathedral in Rome.

I had never had so much fun in my life, Uche really knew how to live life. She enjoyed every moment and she became a gift that truly comforted me.

That summer, we were in Berlin, Germany. I was reading a novel I had become quite fascinated with; Roots: The Saga of an American Family by Alex Haley. It is the story of a black Gambian slave, Kunta Kinte taken from Africa to America, and how he almost never gave up on returning to Africa. This book reminded me of my years in captivity and how far I had come since then.

Freedom is the best gift a man can ever have.

Finishing a chapter in the book, I dropped the book and watched Uche sleeping peacefully in bed. I stood up and walked to the balcony, my face welcomed the sweet touch of sunlight. I stood, tall and motionless, watching the people from the bird's eye view the balcony afforded.

Through our trips to these beautiful European countries, I could not help but notice the different cultures we encountered, and how special and devoted the citizens were to their beautiful but sometimes strange cultures. I watched and studied them and lost my hatred for the white man. In fact, I began to admire their devotion and patriotism. Watching the children play in parks, lovers holding hands, free to display affection publicly without attracting undue attention from the general public, I realized something big, something that would change me. I realized that even though these countries were very different from one another, they all shared something in common.

Democracy.

Their citizens were free, free to be whatever, to do whatever and say whatever to who ever. I suppose my first cycle had taught me the importance of freedom and given me what some might have called an obsession with freedom.

I became uneasy with the direction of my thoughts. I realized my country was now in complete bondage. The military reign had become supreme, they killed whoever opposed them. Nobody was free in my country. I have always believed myself a patriot, but there I was, ignoring the reality my people were suffering, enjoying myself in another man's land.

"I have a son I have done nothing for, a son that believes his father died a hero. But am I? If I continue running from the truth, my boy will grow up in a corrupt state where he has no freedom or right."

Thoughts like this crossed my mind and at that moment, I realized I had done nothing for my boy, and if I chose to take him out of the country, it would be a selfish move on my part, there were millions of kids his age in Nigeria who would suffer the same fate I did not want for him as their parents could not afford to take them away,

I decided there and then that I would go back home and do my best to change the system. Make the country a better place for the other children.

Given our past experience together, I was sure Uche would not understand. I had come to understand that she had lived too long to be pushed to fight for patriotism or selflessness. She had learnt to care for just herself, no one else, but to my surprise, after I had explained how I felt and how my mind was made up, She replied, "I go where you go".

I knew my quest was not going to be easy, but in my experience good things never come easy. I was prepared.

***

Micheal

I marked my place in the book with a bookmark. I was amazed by what I was reading. It was all too crazy to be true, but I had come to believe all of it.

Wow!

Saad was what he called a bound spirit.

I checked my watch, it was 6am. I was exhausted but could not bring myself to sleep. I fetched my laptop from my bag and began recording the summary of my reading and at the same time, I googled bound spirits. The results were all meaningless, unrelated to what I was looking for, until I saw a link to a Yoruba page that interpreted bound spirits as Akudaya. A term referring to reoccurring spirits that transcended generations. It also mentioned that Akudayas were marked.

Uche told my Uncle she'd recognized him by his peculiar birthmark and that if their lines were permitted to live they were also marked. I thought for a moment, Uncle Saad's mark was a star on his fore-head, so was George's, even his son Bayo had the same mark on his fore head and then I thought for a second longer, I had a mark similar to a star somewhere on my back!

I began a frantic search, furiously checking my body for a star-like mark. I stood removing every bit of clothing I wore, turning, trying to look for the mark I knew I had.

I stopped just then. Now stark naked, I found it on my back, beneath my right shoulder. The light from the chandelier shun on my back, illuminating my mark. It appeared a star. I stared above to find i stood right in the middle of the engraved star on the ceiling.

The library door swung open and bright artificial light spilled in from the hallway illuminating me where I stood and blinding me.

"Wow!" A female voice said, "Never thought this day would come quick enough."

"What the fuck!" I screamed, trying to cover my penis with one hand while using the second as a shade to see into the light. My eyes had begun to adapt to the light.

"Who is it?" I demanded angrily. No one responded.

I heard the footsteps approaching me, it was Maggie my best friend. She was smiling, enjoying the show.

"Maggie! What the hell!" I screamed as I reached for my clothes.

All she said was "Baby don't dress up, please. For me."

"Shut up." I replied, "How did you get in? The door was locked!"

"Oh please. You call that a lock? It took me ten seconds to pick that"

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"Now, where's the fun in that? Plus your mum said they tried knocking and you would not open up."

"Oh! I didn't hear them. I guess I needed a little me time."

"So... you mind explaining to me what you were doing stark naked in the middle of the room."

"Err... it's a long story." I replied.

"Boy oh boy, have I got time! Start spilling."

"First of all," I said as I turned my back to her, "This mark here, what does it look like to you?"

Maggie paused and said, "Well it looks like some sort of star. Why?"

"I needed to be sure. Now I am."

Maggie was my childhood friend. She was an adventurer, she wanted to know all, to see all, to feel all. Her curiosity got us into trouble sometimes and I have never liked trouble but for some reason, I could not resist her. We went everywhere together, we were inseparable. I had feelings for her which I tried to hide and I suspected she had feelings for me too but we were too proud to tell each other, so we masked our feelings behind friendship.

I had often discussed Maggie with Uncle Saad.

"Young love is beautiful" He always said, "Tell her." but I always lost my nerve whenever I was about to and I did not want to lose the friendship we had for what might not be. Oh! Maggie thrilled me, she was wild, beautiful, intelligent and adorable. So many words described her person.

I gave Maggie a rundown of the last 24 hours. My uncle's will, the riddles, the diary, the stars, his theory and then to kill her skepticism I handed the diary over to her. While she was poring through it, I went to get some food, ate, fell asleep on the couch and woke to find her watching me sleep.

"You sleep like a baby." she said.

"Well, I have been told" I replied, yawning as I sat up.

"Your mum came in to check up on you and I explained to her that you needed a bit of space and she understood."

"Thanks, Maggie." I exhaled.

"It's a pretty crazy story but I've met your Uncle. He didn't look crazy, he didn't seem crazy either..."

"That's because he wasn't." I interrupted "He was sane to his last breath."

She cleared her throat and said "...But would a sane man sleep with his sister?"

I was quiet , I had no reply.

She continued "I mean, your theory... You are putting forth the possibility that he might be your father"

I said nothing.

"And there have been rumors, talk in your family of a romantic affair between them. You told me yourself."

I was quiet still. She regarded me "You're taking this surprisingly well. That you might be the product of an affair between siblings."

"What do you want me to say! What do you want me to do! Kill myself like he did? No! I'm grateful regardless. Affair between siblings or not. If it's true that I am alive thanks to that affair, I'm grateful!" I burst into tears, repeating the words "I'm grateful"

Maggie came closer to me and put her arms around me.

"There you go." she said, "That's what I expected, an outburst at least. There you go..."

I cried silently, repeating the words "I'm grateful" like I was trying to convince myself. Maggie let me cry for a bit, rubbing my back slowly and when the worst was over, I sniffled, trying stop my rose from running.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." I apologized

"Shhhh... It's okay."

"I believe every word of it." She said suddenly with a smile "I smell an adventure here, and you know I love me some adventure!"

I smiled back "Of course you do. You're Maggie Cadmus. Wait, Wait, Wait, your family name is Cadmus."

"Yeah?... Oh no, I see where you are going there. I mean, what are the odds? Of course. George Cadmus died a long time ago though, I cannot be a descendant. "

"No," I replied, "but you could be a descendant of one of his Cadmus siblings."

"Wait a second." Maggie said, "Light bulb!"

"What is it?" I asked impatiently.

"From what we have read, George Cadmus was a public figure. Minister and Spokesman, the diary said. Why don't we Google his pictures and see if we can trace his siblings. Better yet, his family tree and find out if I am truly a descendant."

"Great idea!"

We went online and the search pulled up an old black and white picture of George Cadmus that sent chills down our spines. George Cadmus was the exact replica of my Uncle Saad!

We stared at each other, mumbling the words "Oh my god"

It was true.

This old picture and wiki information verified the stories from the diary. Maggie Cadmus was not related to any of George's siblings.

We sat still for a while, thinking hard and quiet, and I whispered my Uncle's riddle.

"What?" Maggie enquired, looking puzzled.

I repeated the riddle "Unravel the myth of a god and entity close to heart and one close to blood and you shall find the key you seek___"

"Have you figured it out?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. A theory perhaps; The myth of a god... In his first cycle, at the beginning of the diary, he spoke about time, the invincibility of time and then he spoke of defeating time for his love. I shall rise like a phoenix from its ashes or something like that. I think the god he refers to is time and he is the entity close to my heart and blood. If he is my father, his blood runs in me"

"But why would he use two different words for just his person? Heart and blood?" Maggie asked "I believe they are two different people. He is the entity close to heart for sure, so who is blood?" She regarded Michael.

I replied in a whisper she could hear. "My mother."

"Saad wants me to unravel the truth of his life, but what does my mother have to do with it?" I regarded the ceiling then turned to her and said "Guess we have to read more."

***

9am__(resuming work same day of news?

June 23, 2000

Bayo

Resuming work at Silverbed's headquarters, Bayo went in to say hello to his supervising officer Mr. Kayode Akinwunmi who was surprised to see him.

"Is everything okay at home, Bayo?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't it be?"

"What are you doing here? It's your day off."

"I know," Bayo said, "But I can't resist big stories like today's murder case. Come on, Kayode. Who better than me to solve the case? I have beaten the police to the solution so many times."

"Ok, ok... but Lola is on the news case. You can work together on it. If you want it, you're going to have to play nice with her."

Not exactly what he had been hoping for but he would have to find a way to get the case from Lola then.

Bayo and Lola used to have a thing but it did not end well and since then they despised each other.

"Hey!" He said as he walked into Lola's office, giving Lola a sheepish smile.

She stared back with disgust.

"Don't give me that face. I know what you want. Kayode already called. Why would you want to be on the same case with me? We clearly don't get along."

"Well sometimes people do things they aren't comfortable with for the better good. So, for now, till this case is over let's try to play nice. Truce?" He said, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

"Get that hand out of my face!" she snapped, "I am only accepting this because I have no other choice."

"Yes, you do." Bayo replied, "You could drop the case and leave it for me."

She laughed. "You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Well not a chance," she said, "Now get off my desk."

**

They entered the Police headquarters in Victoria Island together. Chief of Police, Shonekan was an oversized bear of a man, with small eyes and a big mouth. He became hostile immediately he saw Bayo, so Bayo let Lola do the talking which he thought was wise as old men respond very well to attractive women.

Lola was attractive; she had beautiful caramel skin and sexy wide eyes, she was almost always dressed in trendy tops and tight knee length skirts that showed off her hips and curves.

She spoke with the Chief of police in a seductive manner that made him very co-operative. The police were yet to find their primary suspects Mr. Abdul Saad and Miss. Zaleka Akeem. The only new thing they learnt was that Saad had visited Air Raven - where both girls worked - a day before the murder looking for Zaleka. The secretary gave him Zaleka's official phone number because he refused to leave. The police also found out that Saad worked at the stock exchange bureau at Ikeja, they had questioned his supervisors and no one seemed to know anything of his whereabouts but they had gotten a picture of him that would be aired on television to help with the search.

"If he is still in this state, there will be no place to hide." Shonekan said confidently.

"Can we see this photo of him?" Lola asked, smiling sweetly at him.

"Of course you can." he said, smiling hard and exposing his brown teeth. He opened his drawer, pulled out an envelope, took out a little passport photograph from it and slid it on his desk over to Lola.

Bayo drew closer to Lola so he could see, he took a peek at the photograph that lay in her palms and his breath caught in his throat as he saw a picture of himself.

Lola whispered, "What!"

She turned to look at him then back at the photo.

"This murderer looks exactly like you, only younger!"

Chief of Police Shonekan bit the butt of his tobacco, spat it out into the trash, lit it, puffed a bit and said, "We thought so too. Imagine my joy! We ran down both their files but they were definitely not the same person, to my disappointment. There's a difference if you look hard at the picture. Saad doesn't have Bayo's birth mark on his forehead. If he did, Bayo would definitely have been brought in for questioning." He blew out rings with his tobacco.

Lola was fascinated by the resemblance. "How can this be? Look, Bayo! He's exactly like you." She said.

"But he isn't." Bayo replied, feeling increasingly worried and uneasy at this twist.

She regarded Bayo not willing to let it go. "Is there anyone in your family that looks exactly like you?"

"No" Bayo replied "Just my father and he died a long time ago in the civil war. Thank you for your time." Bayo mumbled, and stood. "I think we should leave now" he urged Lola.

"Can I keep the photo?" Lola asked Shonekan

"Sure. We already made copies" he replied "It will be on air any moment now" She thanked him and stood to leave.

When they stepped out of the police headquarters, Lola took quick steps to stay ahead of him so she would not have to walk side by side with him. He had begun to let go of the grudge between them. Clearly, she was not ready to. He took quick steps to catch up with her and try to settle this rift once and for all.

As he reached for her hand to slow her down, his phone rang. He picked up and heard a slow deep voice say "Hello, Bayo. This is Abdul Saad."

***

After I made the decision to go back to Nigeria, I returned home with a full grown beard and a bald head so I might not be easily recognized. Nigeria had gotten even worse. General Sanni had seized power from the interim civilian prime minister. General Sanni was ruthless, assassinating or imprisoning anyone in his way. An election had been held and Akure who had won the election and was claiming the right to rule was imprisoned for many years.

Everyone was afraid of General Sanni, common and influential men alike, but I wasn't, I was ready to give what was left of my life, my second cycle to the cause of freedom.

I started by re-establishing contact with strong civilian patriots I knew. Men who were now shadows of what they used to be. We held secret meetings in secret locations, discussing what had to be done to ensure the survival of our nation. At first, majority of them were afraid to oppose General Sanni but I managed to convince them. If we lost our lives in the fight and succeeded, the freedom of our children and their children would be ensured, we could not keep quiet and let the nation go down with all our loved ones.

"If we die, so be it. Let it be a worthwhile death, for my country, for my children and their children. Death is the ultimate price a true patriot pays."

We began by infiltrating his government, planting spies where we could and this aided us a great deal. We discovered so many things his administration had hidden; bribes, stolen funds, assassination plans, victims etc.

We leaked all we found to the public through the press. We had begun to unnerve him. He did not know who we were, he could not find us... It was driving him crazy. Through the leaked information, the UN and the world began to watch him. He was on edge, he could not make any radical moves. The youths began protesting, now unafraid as they knew the world was watching, they demanded a new free and fair election.

One day, I boldly came on a live footage that was broadcast all over Nigeria on NTA. I sat looking into the camera as I delivered my message to the country.

"...Years ago, when the military bailed us out of our failed corrupt civilian government, they sold it to us as salvation. Now we see that we have paid for that rescue with our freedom, we have awakened to the truth. We are slaves to the military regime.

Today, all that changes. Let the word go out to friend and foe alike, that we have passed the torch to a new generation. We refuse to permit the abuse of human rights. Let the military know also that we shall pay any price in order to ensure that we are truly free."

Sanni watched this transmission and was infuriated, he immediately sent the army to every NTA station house but before the army reached NTA Lagos, we had gone. My message had a positive influence on every Nigerian, it made them stand up to fight for their rights.

***

I woke up at 3am from yet another nightmare, breathing hard and fast. I turned to see if I had woken Uche up but she was deep in sleep. I got out of bed to my feet to get myself a glass of water to drink. I was tired of the nightmares. Most times, I forgot the details when I woke. I was hunted in my sleep and I had become afraid of sleeping. I moved slowly to the back door, I felt like a swim this early just might do the trick. I moved from the back door through the garden and stopped at something I was not expecting to see. The seed Mama Jaja gave me had sprouted from the earth! In that moment I was crippled with joy. I could not move or talk, I fell to my knees on the carpet grass turf just watching it; so green, so little, so beautiful... My hope had returned.

I sat down watching it, just staring at it with tears in my eyes. She was back.

Uche had woken up to find the bed empty beside her and come out to look for me, she found me still kneeling in the garden.

"George?"

I turned to her with tears still in my eyes and said "Ola is back. Look! The seed Mama Jaja gave me sprouted... she has returned to this world... she has been reborn."

Uche did not share my joy and she did not try to hide it. She was quiet for a moment and then she spoke.

"You do know it's not the same spirit in her, yes? Her spirit has long been long returned to the world above, her body is back but the Ola you lost is not in that body."

"It doesn't matter, I have to try first." I said adamantly.

Uche was clearly losing it now, she responded with a higher pitch, "Try how? She is but a baby and you are an old man already, how will it work? Don't you get it, time has beaten you, you can't be with her, the age gap is too wide."

What she was saying made sense, she was right, the age gap between us was too much.

I began to think of what to do. I regarded her, standing arms akimbo.

"What can I do?" I asked, "You promised to help me get her back."

"That was before time played an irreversible prank on you, it's impossible now." She shook her head.

"I hate you right now." She spat and turned and walked away with her hands folded.

Why? I thought. Did I say something to upset her?

I found her in the room with a cigarette in between her lips.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She puffed out smoke and regarded me. "After all this time, all we have been through, all we have shared, you would turn away from all that in a heartbeat to be with a woman you spent a couple of years with, a woman that is no more?"

"She is my wife." I replied calmly.

"Your wife is no more! Whatever you find isn't her! her spirit isn't there! That baby is just a reincarnation of your wife not her." She shouted.

"How do we know for sure if I don't try?"

"She is only a baby, George. You have to choose between me or this pipe dream."

"No." I said, "I can't do this Uche."

"Choose!!" she screamed.

"She's my wife, Uche."

"Okay then. Whatever." she said, "I'm going to bed."

I lay by her side thinking, how do I breach the time lapse between us? How do I make Uche understand I feel something for her but Ola has been my only reason for living for too long, my hope.

***

Nigeria had become a hot seat for General Sanni as the people began rioting. Workers went on strike and work places were empty, the streets were teeming with people as Nigerians came together to protest, calling him to step down from power. General Sanni was desperate to find us.

On the third day of the nationwide strike, members of the committee for freedom - as we called ourselves - including Uche and I, were gathered together for another secret meeting. Minutes into the meeting, Rt. Lt. Obvia, our security expert received a call. After he ended the call, he immediately informed us of an immediate threat heading our way, we had to move immediately. Word had reached him through informants that an army was headed our way, a land and air strike. He estimated the chopper would reach us in twenty minutes.

We went into action immediately, we had planned for this eventuality. I began to destroy documents that could implicate us and link us to any act of conspiracy against the government. It took me five minutes to completely destroy all documents linking us to treason. Some members had successfully escaped the building, I was ready to move but I couldn't find Uche.

"I can't leave without her" I said as Obvia urged me to move. As I was about to give in, Uche appeared in the doorway.

"Thank God." I said, "Now let's move!"

Obvia got in front of us to lead the way. In that moment, time froze as I heard the sound of a gunshot and Obvia was struck from behind, he fell almost immediately. He groaned in pain and tried to turn but two more shots were fired at him, they went through his head. Everything happened so quick, I had not yet understood what had happened. I turned gently and slowly to meet Uche staring at me, a murderous look in her eyes and a smoking pistol in her hand.

"I gave the army our location."

"What is the meaning of this, Uche?" I weakly tried to challenge her.

"You shut up and sit down." she said, still pointing at me with the gun. I backed away from her.

"Uche, why?" I asked with a softer tone.

"Why?" She said "Why?! Because you chose to betray me. Now how does it feel Romeo?"

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, "I care for you, Uche... I..."

"Oh shut up. You used me and I fell for it hoping if I stood by you long enough, you would change and realize we were meant for each other. We are bound spirits, we could have lived together a long time, in happiness and joy but you chose this, you chose her over me."

Again, I tried to speak.

"Shut up!" she interrupted. Now crying, she continued, "I gave you all of me, all I could give, I even gave you a child. And you woke up one morning and spat me out for a plant. This is me getting even."

She began to lower the gun.

"Uche we can still make this right, let us go!" As I took a step forward, she raised the gun up and shot my knee.

"Do you feel it? The pain I feel, do you?"

I fell to the floor holding my knee, gritting my teeth in pain. "Uche... if you do this, and give me up to them, it might be the end of this revolution."

"So what? I never cared for your filthy dream, what I care about now is for you to feel the pain I feel."

"If you ever felt anything for me, do not hand me over to the Nigerian army. Kill me here, now, give me a beautiful death."

She laughed. "I am not giving you to the Nigerian army, God no!"

"What are you saying?" I asked.

She continued, "They would not know how to kill you properly, they would make a mess of you, and just shoot you or hang you, either way we both know it's a temporary death for you. The male bound spirit's blood is priceless, it holds the cure to many illnesses even to death and if they kill you without draining your blood and essence properly you will be born again and even have a closer gap to your so called love. In other words, joke's on me."

"You see George, without your blood in you, you won't be able to defeat death and jump into another cycle. The best part is I promised you a reunion with your real wife and that's what I'm giving you, you shall be reunited with your first wife in hell." She concluded.

"So, who is coming for me?" I asked.

"My father." she replied.

Just then the door was kicked open, and Nzeagwu, the man I had escaped with from the Biafran state walked in with a couple of soldiers. He regarded me, a wan smile on his face.

"My friend," he said, "It has been a long time, I often wondered where you might be. Well, how are you?"

"Not so good, as you can see... I've got a bullet in my knee." I managed to spit out, dizzy with pain

"As soon as we get to base we'll have that checked out, don't worry." He replied.

"Well, it's hard not to worry, when the woman you have been sleeping with for years put a bullet in you and is currently threatening to bleed you dry."

He laughed out, "Women. They are impossible. My friend, my soldiers will help you up to the chopper okay?"

"Not like I have a choice."

He laughed again.

"No you don't, but neither do I."

All this time, Uche was smoking a cigarette and pacing. They got me up and took me to the chopper.

We landed after an hour long flight, they gave me first aid immediately we landed. I was taken to a big lab with tall ceilings and a lot of instruments. It had two giant windows, one on the East wall and the other on the West. I was attended to there, they removed the shattered pieces of bullet in my knee, it was by far the most painful experience I have ever had.

By that time, I knew I would not be able walk on my right foot for a while, if at all. They strapped me to an operation table and raised it up so I was vertically positioned. Soon, I heard footsteps coming in from the long corridor with the accompanying sound of wheels.

The door to the laboratory was pushed open and Nzeagwu walked in accompanied by Uche pushing a man on a wheel chair. Slowly, I realized I knew the man on the wheel chair. He was bald and apart from his burnt face, he was very sickly looking. His chair carried an oxygen tank which indicated he had problem breathing. Still trying to think of why he appeared so familiar to me, it came to me finally. Ochukwu.

Before any of them could say a word, I had worked the math and knew why I was here. Ochukwu was her father. Ochukwu managed to wheel himself a bit closer to me, and said in a raspy, tired voice that sounded like the breath of a python.

"I am sorry it had to be you. Believe me I really do like you, but I am doing this for the sake of my people. I cannot die now. If I do, the Biafran dream dies as well. I am sure you understand. You were a believer in our state, weren't you?"

I did not say a word, I just stared at them with extreme disgust. I turned to Uche, "Oh! So now you are a believer?"

"No, I'm not. I am here for love and hate. My father is dying and I cannot let that happen, especially when it is your blood he needs to save him."

"Save your father. Why now? If my blood can cure him, why didn't you have me put down since?"

"We have been together all this time and he has been ill a long time." She smiled, "We only just found out the blood of a male bound spirit cures sicknesses. There had been rumors. Only great witch doctors can perform the transfusion. My father insisted he needed at least closure with you once he found out you were going to be his donor."

Ochukwu interrupted, " George, you are giving your life to a bigger cause, be proud. The Igbos need me, but I am no good to them with cancer damaged lungs and a failing heart. I need to ensure my people's survival.

I shook my head. "Nobody needs you. You are a coward who is just afraid of dying." Now trying to at least die trying, I started struggling with my straps. I asked Ochukwu, "How sure are you, my blood will cure you?"

Just then the doors were pushed open. Uche leaned in and whispered, "Because Jaja says it will."

Mama Jaja walked in with two guards by each side.

"You see, George," Ochukwu continued, "I have tried every means medically possible to stay alive, paying European doctors heavily to come treat me here in absolute secrecy, but all they have been able to do is to prolong the inevitable by two years or more. I have been constantly operated on since the last day of war in Biafra."

I grinned, "You mean the war you deserted, leaving your people to die?"

"I did that to ensure the survival of the head, so the Biafran dream can live on." He replied.

I spat at him. "You are a deranged bastard."

He got out a towel, wiped his face clean, regarded me and said," I have tried but you have refused to see reason." A spasm of coughing interrupted him. "Let us begin."

The guards escorting Mama Jaja left the room, and then a man in a white coat stepped in and began preparing the tools and equipment needed for the procedure. I could only see his eyes as he wore a protective mask over his nose and mouth. I had lost every fight in me. I closed my eyes and tried to rest, I continued to hear movement and murmuring sounds and from the snatches of conversation I could hear, I could not make sense out of what they were saying. I felt the prick of a needle pierce my wrist, the prick forced my eyes open through stimuli. They had punctured my artery with a syringe and blood had begun to seep out of me through a rubber tube into a plastic bag hung below my table.

Ochukwu, now heavily sedated was also strapped to the table and placed upside down, the tables were positioned opposite each other. None of the procedures made any sense to me but Uche watched with anxiety, her hands folded.

Nzeagwu pushed Mama Jaja over to us and said "Start the transfusion."

Mama Jaja brought out a powdery substance from her bag and a dagger and she blew the powder into the air. This powder began dancing in the air, dancing around my table. She screamed and as I watched her closely, the white in her eyes departed and it was all black. She began to chant in some strange tongue, dancing at the same time. Then she approached me, no further than an inch from me still chanting and dancing, she stopped! The powder particles froze in the air as if paused by a remote. Mama Jaja spread out her arms as if ready to fly, and as she dropped them slowly, the powder in the air dropped to the floor. From my restrained view, I could see the powder had formed a star with me at its core. Mama Jaja snapped her fingers and the powder lit up, I was in the middle of a burning star.

If I was not strapped to a table dying, I would admit it was beautiful. The star burnt without smoke. Uche and the rest of them shifted back as they had become afraid, they were all startled by the fire. I began to feel cold and weak, life was slowly leaving my body. Mama Jaja came closer and whispered in my ear, "Your heart is pure, your fire burns without poison."

She held my chin, I could smell her palm, it reeked of garlic.

"One question, Mama Jaja." I said in a weak drowsy voice. "Why garlic?" She tapped my head gently and continued in her soft whisper that surprisingly comforted me.

"Mother Osun has not called you this day. find your love".

" What.."

Mama Jaja's dagger lit red hot and she held it up high and shouted the words "Be free and continue your cycle, bright star of joy!"

I saw Uche through the fire as she screamed "No!" She drew her gun and fired at Mama Jaja, but Mama Jaja held on, and pushed the dagger through my chest and into my heart. I died immediately, blood not totally drained. I suddenly appeared in darkness and a light appeared in the distance, this light drew me to itself like gravity to an object. As I went into the light, my spirit was released from my body, and I was out watching all that was happening after my death in the cycle I had just left. Mama Jaja fell to the floor bleeding as a soldier came to pick her body.

I watched Uche scream, violent with pain. She shot at my body shouting at the same time until her bullets were spent. Just then, she reloaded her gun, came close to my body and whispered, "Two can play this game." She pointed the gun to her head and Nzeagwu screamed, "No!"

Bang!

Her body dropped.

My Third Cycle

CHAPTER III

1980

I was drawn into the abyss, I saw no light, heard no sound, there was nothing but great darkness. I floated and drifted for what seemed to be miles. I felt great emotional pain but was I unable to shed tears, as spirits are incapable of tears. I began to hear a voice from the distance and as I got closer it became clearer, it was not just a voice but millions of voices crying, begging and screaming. It became so loud I could not hear myself think. I was rattled as I saw no one making these sounds I heard so well.

Out of the darkness, stars emerged from above, they sparkled in millions, such beauty to behold, beauty that deafened my ear to the sounds of agony all around me. Suddenly some of the stars began dropping, falling down to the earth floating on its axis, I regarded the horizon as the earth received the stars falling at the speed of light. I felt a touch on my shoulder and I turned.

I knew her.

She was my mother.

Mother Osun.

She stood proud and beautiful, with vines and leafs for her gown. Beautiful flowers and ripe fruits made up her hair, her eyes were green and compassionate and she was amazingly beautiful.

"Ayo" she called, "the stars are beautiful."

"My queen." I bowed.

"They are children falling to their parents. You have a good heart Ayo, but I am afraid what awaits you below will lead you astray. Look, Ayo." She waved her hands and a fiery light ripped open the darkness unveiling the spirits responsible for the cries of agony I heard.

As I stared into the veil she had opened, I saw a world filled with lava and smoke. Millions of spirits were concealed here, they were burnt and they kept on burning. It was torture; I regarded her and asked "Why?"

"They are the Spirits of evil that once plagued the earth." She replied, "What awaits you on earth will lead you to this destruction but I am here now to offer you a way out. If you stay with me now you can avoid this fate."

"Mother, I have to be with her, she is all the happiness I feel and knowing she is born again, I will hate myself for not at least trying."

Osun was calm. She smiled. "I promised your first parents I will be paid their debt when I choose. Only life can pay for life."

I was immediately drawn by the force of gravity to the earth. I had become one of the stars, headed to my new parents.

I opened my eyes for the first time to see my proud and happy mother stare at me with joy, the women around me also laughed happily. My mother was young and beautiful. I was born into a Northern family. As I was put into my cradle I realized we were not at a hospital.

Why? I thought, Did I arrive at such short notice?

I was picked up from my cradle by a blind, elderly lady. She placed me in a tub with just enough water for me to rest in and she bowed her head and said, "You are welcome to our family, great spirit."

What! Astounded, I cried out in my baby words. Shortly, two other women joined her, they were all staring at me. These women knelt and bowed to me. I later realized this women were my mother's sisters: Aminat and Ramota . The elderly woman continued,

"I foresaw your arrival. I am a seer. I am Gadajan, the third wife to the Sultan of Sokoto and you are Abdul Saad, son of my daughter Faridha, named after your great grandfather, my father. You are from the Izuku, a tribe in Sokoto. Great gentle spirit, you are welcome. We are honored you chose us to be your new family." I was dumbfounded, I just lay and listened, that was all I could do anyway.

She continued, "You have come at a bad time, there is a cult in the government made up of politicians, officers and doctors. They have come to know of the existence of your kind and the bountiful reward made from using your body for rituals. We will keep you safe even at the cost of our lives."

The three women joined their hands together, tied it with a rope and then my grandmother cut herself so did the two other women, and as their blood spilled upon my naked body. They swore oaths to one another and to me, to complete the covenant my grandmother cut my palm and drew out some blood and they all licked my blood. Finally, my grandmother decreed anyone who broke the oath would die a painful death

They were witches and growing up with them was quite surprisingly simple. They were quiet and usually kept to themselves in the big mansion Gadajan owned. They were kind and honest and they loved each other. I was an only child from my mother, and I really liked it. I did not know who my father was but I was aware my mother maintained contact with him. She never told him she was pregnant because my grandmother had foreseen my arrival, and they had agreed that for my safety she had to keep the baby away from him. I could not care less.

My grandmother Gadajan once told me that leaving my father was the hardest thing my mother had done, but she had done it because she had to. I was very impatient to grow old enough so I could continue my search. I had explained and told my grandmother, mother, and aunties everything from the stories of my first cycle till now. They were of course overwhelmed by my stories and believed mine was a love story. They also believed I was endowed with great knowledge and wisdom and I was treated like an elderly being because I behaved like one at just age five.

I was best friends with my cousin Malik, Aunty Aminat's son. We did everything together; school , mosque, Arabic lessons, games and pranks. As we got into our teenage years, girls were after us. I enjoyed the attention and even took advantage of some of these girls a couple of times but Malik was never impressed with my escapades or talking about girls. I did not understand how anyone could hate pretty girls the way he did but one thing was for certain, Malik loved family and he loved me as well. We were both very brilliant boys and always passed with flying colors. I became free at the age 15. Before I left home, the witches joined hands and prayed for me, my scar was even bewitched to disappear. I was free to continue my search. I knew the best way to find her was to continue my life as a teenager, going to college and having fun like a regular teenager.

Malik and I attended the same university, Mamadu Bello University. I had known Mamadu Bello and each time I walked past his statue at the university I marveled at the speed of time. We had fought for freedom together and we used to be friends before politics sealed our fates.

Malik and I studied Economics and Foreign trade. We graduated at the tender age of 19 and promptly began working at the stock exchange bureau in the commercial capital of Lagos. I assumed that Ola must be in Lagos, for Lagos had it all.

In my previous life, as George Cadmus, I had been wealthy and I still had access to my wealth as I knew all my codes, and withdrawal routines but I was determined to fight and make clean money. Malik and I worked hard, but life in Lagos had degenerated into fighting for scraps, It was difficult, frustrating and corrupt. There was corruption everywhere.

We were barely earning enough to survive at the stock exchange bureau. I knew the only way out was to buy large shares in companies. I investigated properly and when I was sure, I made a couple of large investments, buying shares in oil, textile, and construction companies. I knew Malik would require an explanation as to where I got the trading money from, so I lied to him that an anonymous contact had trusted and given me the money to trade with. I knew he did not believe it all but I guess he could not care less when we began to reap heavy and twice the amount I had invested.

I had so much money in several investments which paid out beautifully. Malik then suggested investing in transportation, most especially airlines. He was interested in a particular airline, Air Raven. He explained that this airline had just been bought, and that its new ownership had put its shares out for sale. His plan was for us to quickly buy enough shares, enough to allow us become co-owners.

We went to the headquarters of the airlines for inquiries just to be sure of our investment and as we sat in the vast well-furnished reception there she was, Ola.

She was as I remembered. Tall and ebony skinned with radiant long black hair which she'd folded and put into her little hat. She wore a permanent friendly smile that could subdue a raging rhino. Her tight short skirt was wrapped around her seductive hips; she appeared beautiful in her hostess uniform. I stood and walked over to the TV.

It was the airline's advertisement playing and replaying. I stood just in front of the screen and stretched out my hands to touch her face, but the hard screen stopped me. Malik came close and whispered in my ears, "What are you doing? People are watching you."

I turned to him. "It's her, that's Ola. She works here. Oh Malik! You have brought me to her!"

He seemed genuinely pleased but I could sense he was not exactly happy. I was too overjoyed to care about his feelings and as soon as we got into the manager's office, I asked him immediately where I could find her, pointing to the screen.

He smoothly replied, "Ah, Zaleka! I do apologize but the whereabouts of our employees cannot be discussed with clients except the authorities needs to find them, and then a warrant would be required." He stopped, "Are you from the authorities?" He asked.

"No, we are not," Malik replied.

I interrupted Malik before he could say any further. "I am a friend, a really old friend."

He stared at me in a calculative manner, and saw the anxiety and joy I could not hide.

"You will have to wait at the reception for her, but she will not be available until tomorrow."

I smiled ear to ear. "Thank you very much," Malik swiftly said, "Can we talk business now?"

I hardly slept that night, as I played different scenarios of meeting her the next day. Zaleka! I thought, what a name.

The next afternoon, I was at her office waiting anxiously but she never came. I walked over to the secretary and asked for the manager and she told it was his day off. So, I asked if she had seen Zaleka. She told me Zaleka and the other hostesses had not reported to the head office. I begged for Zaleka's number, she refused at first but after I stuck to waiting and sat there in the reception for the next two hours, she called me over and asked why I needed to see Zaleka. I lied and told her I was her cousin and we hadn't seen for years. She reluctantly wrote down Zaleka's official number on a business card and I thanked her for the kindness and left the office.

As soon as I got home around 9pm, the first thing I did was to call the number given to me.

"Hello" a vaguely familiar voice said "Melinda speaking, who is this?"

"Err... Saad," I said, "I would like to speak to Zaleka, is she home"

"Ayo? Is that you, Ayo?"

I was surprised and confused and I kept quiet for a while thinking of an appropriate response.

"Ayo it's okay, I am her friend Melinda, she told me everything".

"She remembers? I asked without thinking. "Of course she does, she is not home now though. Come early tomorrow morning, around 6am. Get a paper so you can write down our address."

I jumped to fetch a paper and biro and I wrote down the address.

"Oh! she'll be so thrilled to see you tomorrow" Melinda said and the line went dead.

Tomorrow took forever to come, but it came eventually. Throughout the night I kept hearing the Melinda's voice in my head. Her voice sounded sweet but disturbingly familiar.

June 23- 2000

4am

I dressed up early the next morning. I decided a mature appearance would suit me, so I went for a collared shirt with a purple sweater and straight brown pants. I examined my appearance in front of my mirror, sure I appeared good. Satisfied with my appearance, I moved out heading to the address Melinda had given me. I drove steadily and quietly to the island. I did not speed; I was not in a rush as it was still 5:49am.

I finally arrived at housing complex on the island. I found a perfect parking space at a park just before the complex. As I pulled up and parked, my tummy began to hurt, I felt like thousands of butterflies were flying around my stomach and I got nauseous. I realized I was crippled with fear of meeting my Ola after so long. My fear and anxiety had probably triggered my ulcer. I got out of my vehicle, shut the door and made for a sandwich stand I had seen while driving in. There, I had one sandwich and a bottle of coke and I felt better.

Now it was 6 o'clock, so I walked up to the building. It was just opposite a zenith bank. I found the main entrance door and pushed it open letting myself into the reception area. I expected to find a guard or a porter who would help me locate Melinda's floor but there was no one. I examined the reception properly, it was sparsely furnished. Some couches, rugs, a glass center table and what seemed to be the porter's desk, with a name tag; Mrs. Anichebe .

I moved to this desk and said out loud, "Good morning! Good Morning! Is there any one here?"

There was no reply. Getting impatient now I began to search for something that might help me identify Melinda's apartment number. Just then I saw a printed roster glued to the wall just behind the porter's chair, I walked over to examine it. Bozai!! I found Zaleka and Melinda's room number, their apartment was on the third floor. I decided to take the stairs, I was not well acquainted with the lift in this building and Nigeria had the nasty habit of cutting power when you least expect. Climbing up the stairs, my heart raced with fear, anxiety, panic and joy.

As I approached the door to their apartment, I could sense something was not right. I got to the door, knocked and the door squeaked open slowly and from the corridor, I could see a scattered parlor. I let myself in and as soon as I entered the parlor I saw a female lying face down in a pool of blood, gasping for air, a landline receiver in her hands. There was a knife sticking out of her back. I was no doctor but I could tell her spinal cord had been split. Panicked, i immediately reached for her, removed the knife and turned her body to see her face praying she was not my Ola. She was not, I was relieved a bit.

The lady on the floor was barely alive. I regarded around the apartment, it was scattered with broken picture frames on the floor. I saw a photo of Ola with a lady who I immediately guessed was Melinda in one of the smashed pictures.

"Who did this?" I asked her but all she did was gasp for air. Blood pouring from her mouth and nose, her face was too bloodied to make a match with the pictures. I asked again, urging her to make one final meaningful sentence.

"Where is Zaleka?"

"They took her." She managed to say and gave up. I dropped her body to the bloody floor.

"Fuck!!!" I cursed under my breath. I heard the siren of an ambulance and the police faintly in the distance. I quickly searched the apartment for Zaleka.

"Zaleka can you hear me! Are you here?" The apartment was empty so I made a run for it before I was caught by the Nigerian police who would arrest anyone related or unrelated to the case. I made it out of the building without attracting any attention to myself, got into my car and drove home immediately.

I got home, parked my car in the garage and made for the shower immediately. I removed all the blood stained clothes and kept them in the trash can, planning to burn them. After the shower, I sat on my bed, once again allowing my thoughts to run wild.

Where is Zaleka? Who took her? Was she involved in something illegal? What do I do? Could this be Uche? Did she find Ola before me?

Questions kept mounting upon questions. I lit a cigarette trying to calm myself and switched on my T.V to find the death all over the news, The headline read: Girl murdered and raped in her Victoria Island home.

"News reporter Samuel Adenuga in a live conversation with journalist Lola Aina reporting live for Silverbed"

Samuel: Lola can you explain to us what exactly has happened?

Lola: Behind me is Melinda Gracen's home, the police have refused to let us into the house but we have word that Melinda Gracen was found dead in her room with a knife stuck in her back. She made an emergency call to 911 just before she died but unfortunately she had been dead for about ten minutes when she was found. She was murdered and raped at around 7am this morning in her Victoria Island apartment complex, a three bedroom flat in a six storey building.

Samuel : Her neighbors did not see or hear anything?

Lola : So far, no, they are still being questioned.

Samuel : What was her occupation? I think the police would consider questioning some of her colleagues. There has been mention of the possible involvement of another woman...

Lola: Yes, Zaleka Akeem. Zaleka and Melinda were flight attendants for Air Raven, a private domestic airline. They were assigned to flight 068 under Captain Jakonde and Co-pilot Michael Phillip. Their captains and colleagues believe there was no rift between them.

Samuel : Reports coming in say they shared the apartment.

Lola : Yes, Zaleka and Melinda were apparently really close. In Captain Jakonde's words, "They were best of friends". They have lived together since their college years, only briefly apart when Melinda was engaged to the co-pilot, Michael Phillip but the affair lasted for just a year.

Samuel: Her co-pilot was her lover! Has he been questioned by the police? Forgive me, but from experience, ex-lovers with grudges usually have a motive.

Lola: I understand, but Michael stopped working for the airline months ago, and he too is M. I. A. The police are searching for him as we speak.

Samuel : And Zaleka?

Lola: Zaleka is nowhere to be found. It was suggested she might have fled the scene of murder. Chief of Police Shonekan has declared her a suspect as fleeing might suggest guilt. There is a search underway for her and a presently unidentified man who was caught going into the building by a CCTV camera from a bank just opposite the building. The footage shows him running out just before the police arrive.

Samuel: And the CCTV recorded nothing else of anyone going in or coming out?

Lola: No. It shows both Zaleka and Melinda coming in last night but it does not show Zaleka leave, even after the unidentified suspect shows up and runs out. Zaleka and Melinda entered their home last night but Zaleka seems to have vanished as the CCTV does not show her leave.

Samuel: Is that all for the moment, Lola?

Lola: Well Samuel, we have just gotten word from the police headquarters that the fingerprints on the murder weapon match those of a Mr. Abdul Saad, a graduate from the Mamadu Bello University. The police have no picture of him now, but we will get one as soon as possible. He is considered armed and dangerous and that's all we have for now.

Samuel : Thank you Lola.

Fuck! I could not believe my eyes and ears, I stood and began pacing, thinking of what to do and all possible outcomes. If I surrendered to the police, they would never understand my case and I could not possibly go to the police because I would be detained while the real killer who abducted Zaleka remained at large. I decided I was of no use to Zaleka locked up in prison.

"I have come too far to lose her again. I need to find her now."

I had been keeping tabs on my boy, Bayo. I was proud of the life he had made for himself, I was also impressed with the Nusurat case and how he expertly handled it. If only he could help me now, I thought, still pacing. It hurt that I would have to meet him under such conditions but I had no choice. I searched my wardrobe for a bag and picked up some items I felt would be needed; some clothes, a face cap and my loaded revolver.

Malik! I had to talk to him in case the police got a lead on our new address.

I was in such a rush, I pushed open his room door without knocking. Holy cow! I thought. Malik sat on his bed, tucked in naked with another man. They were making out when I barged in and startled both of them.

"Jesus! Malik" I said out loud.

"Saad! Saad!" He called out, trying to get out of bed, looking very worried and apologetic. "Calm down, I can explain."

"What the fuck are you doing in bed with another man?"

His queer friend replied for him, "What does it look like genius?"

I made for him, certain I was going to break something but Malik stopped me mid-way.

"No! Saad," He said with an effort and pushed me back. We were quiet for a second, the sound of the breaking news on the television broke the silence.

"Suspect for the murder and rape of Melinda Gracen, Mr. Abdul Saad is still at large" At this point, a picture of me was shown on the screen "... if seen do not hesitate to inform the police. He is considered armed and dangerous."

The man on the bed let out a whistle and said "My, My! How the tables have turned."

"Shut up." Malik replied and turned to me, "What the fuck is she saying Abdul, murder and rape?"

"That's why I barged in here. I didn't do none of it. I think it's a set up but I can't explain how. Remember when we were at Air Raven and I found out Ola works there? Well the deceased is her friend. I got Ola's number from her secretary and called. It was the deceased that picked up the phone and called me by my first name, she told me to come over early today. I got there and she had a knife in her back. That's all Malik, I swear!"

Malik was quiet for a moment. "Saad, if you didn't do it, you should turn yourself in."

"I can't." I replied, "The police will never understand, you know that. And apart from that, Ola has been kidnapped and I need to find her. She was also in the building when the killer struck. You have to believe me."

"Of course I believe you bro, you are no murderer or rapist. So, where are you off to?" He asked.

"My son's place. I need to get to him, he can help me find Ola."

"Okay! The police will come knocking soon," he said. "I will keep them off your tail."

"Thank you." I said, genuinely grateful.

We hugged and he whispered, "I can't break my mother's vow to protect you. I love you, bro. Be careful. Take care."

We broke the hug and stared at each other for a while, I was about to leave and then I stopped and turned to him.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked

He smiled. "I thought you'd always known," he replied, "I really wish you didn't have to find out like this."

"It's all good" I said and winked at him. "Goodbye, brother."

June 23 - 2:15pm

Driving down to the housing estate at Bar beach, I could smell the ocean breeze. I knew the task ahead would be difficult; convincing Bayo I was not responsible for all that I was suspected of, and explaining to him I was his father. I did not want to do any of it but the safety of Ola depended on its successful outcome. They say blood is thicker than water, that day I hoped it was true as it would be put to test.

I finally arrived at the beach estate, I parked the car and came out of my vehicle. My appearance had been meticulously arranged by me as a disguise. I wore a hoodie with a face cap and joggers with sport shoes. I walked casually through the estate gate and made my way to his apartment. I knocked and after a minute a young lady who I immediately assumed was his girlfriend opened the door. She wore nothing but a T-shirt and was sweating profusely.

"Hi!" She said, panting a bit.

"I'm here for Bayo, is he home?" I said curtly.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" She asked.

I took off my face cap and said, "I am his father." I saw shock reflected on her face, then panic flashed in her eyes, she must have seen the news on television. Before she could scream, I pointed my gun at her face.

*

I stood in the living room with a glass of water in my hands and observed the room, it was wide, airy and beautiful with marbled flooring and beautiful paintings on walls.

"My son has got taste." I said, but Lisa did not reply to that.

Just then a man shouted, "Baby, who was it?"

I lowered my hood to hide my face. He opened one of the doors and came out with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Who are you?" I snarled with my revolver pointed at him to scare him.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed.

"Who are you?" I repeated

"P...aul, Paul!" He stammered.

"Get your shit and get out of here before I change my mind and keep you here until Bayo returns."

"Oh! Thank you!" he replied as he rushed in and out of the room and within seconds he had disappeared.

I finished the glass of water, dropped it and said, "I would have apologized and said something like 'I'm sorry we meet in such circumstances', but with what just happened, I am glad I met you like this. People say the first impression defines a person but until today I did not believe that. I mean, this is our first meeting and I am pointing a gun at you, but if you knew me, you would know I am a good guy and this is not me. I'm pressed for time, that's all, but for you, the same cannot be said, the truth oozes out the stench of dirt and unfaithfulness clouds you. You are not a good person."

I could see the rage melt away her apologetic expression and she replied, "You don't know me, you have no right to judge me."

"Oh! But I do." I replied. "I am with a gun. The rule is he whose finger holds the trigger gets to play God. So, shut up!" I barked, startling her into total submission. She began to sob quietly.

"I'm sorry, it hurts me to hold you at gun point but the safety of my wife depends on this"

"Please don't hurt me!" She cried out.

"Shhh..." I shushed her. "I won't as long as you behave. I need to see Bayo."

"Please leave him out of this. What do you want with him?" She asked.

I regarded her and said, "If you are a smart woman what you should be worried about is how I am going to expose your infidelity."

"He won't believe you because you have no proof"

"I smell that you seem pretty upset he will." I handed over my phone. "Call him."

June23 2000 - 3pm

"Hello, Bayo. This is Abdul Saad. Before you rush into anything, you should know I have your fiancée and if you contact the police or tell them of this call, you risk her safety."

"What do you want?"

"All I want is you and she is free to go. I swear. Come home now by yourself, i don't have all day."

I ended the call.

Bayo

Bayo dropped the cellular phone into his pocket. Lola immediately saw the fright on his face.

"Are you okay?"

"Since when do you care about my well-being" He snapped at her. "You know what? Head down to the office without me, I just remembered I have things to do."

Lola remained quiet. He turned to the road and signaled a cab, got into it and left. Lola stopped a cab of her own, "Follow that cab" she said to the driver.

Bayo got home, opened the door with his key and rushed into his living room to meet Abdul Saad pointing a revolver at him. My God! He thought. This man was an exact replica of him. He turned looking for Lisa, "Where is she?" he almost shouted.

"Toilet, now sit down."

He sat, and Lisa came into the room. She cried out as soon as she saw him and ran into his arms crying.

"Are you hurt?" Bayo asked her as he held her.

"No," she replied. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Bayo turned to Abdul Saad with a hard face filled with rage and anger. "You have me now. So, what?"

**

When I finally came face to face with my boy, I was happy and sad at the same time. My boy! I thought, Why did it have to be so? My eyes were glassy with tears and I fought the urge to weep at finally being face to face with my boy but I failed as tears dripped down my cheeks. He saw my tears and appeared puzzled.

"I did not want us to meet like this," I said, "I wanted it to be special. In a different world and time, you would have been excited to see me."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, "Please be sane."

I got hold of myself realizing how stupid I must look crying.

"Bayo" I said, "I am Saad now but I was George Cadmus, your father."

"This is insane. You're insane." Bayo said and held tight to Lisa.

"Listen!" I shouted, "Open your mind! Forget what you think you know for a moment. This world is filled with mysteries you will never understand, I am one of those mysteries." Fighting tears again, I called his grandmother's name; my mother, and recited a poem she had composed using all her children's names. She used to love that poem, used to sing it to us and I figured with any luck, she would have sang it to him.

When I was finished, he raised his head to regard me and asked, "How do you know them? How do you know that poem? You are only a boy..."

"I am more than that." I began crying again, overwhelmed by it all. I got close to him but Lisa held on tight to him. I opened his hand and put the revolver in it. Still crying, I started reciting the poem again then I touched my fore head and my bewitched star shun again.

"I am sorry it took this long to see you." I said.

"But how is this possible? You are supposed to have died a long time ago. How are you so young?"

I stepped back from them.

"I am a bound spirit. The Yoruba's call my kind Akudaya's."

He detached himself slowly from Lisa and stood, "Your star is beautiful..."

"I know," I replied, "So is yours."

He touched it. It glowed under his touch.

"So you are not going to kill us?"

"I never planned to..."

Bayo interrupted, "Growing up, I felt so much hate for you and mother but I can't feel any of it now. I'm trying but I can't."

I touched his shoulder and said, "I am sorry about abandoning you."

Dazed, he regarded me. "Where is mother?"

"She's the reason I am here. It's a long story Bayo but I am prepared to tell it all."

"Just do, I am sure I would love to hear." A voice said from the door. Startled, we turned to look.

"Lola!" Bayo shouted. "You shouldn't be here!"

"Neither should he." She replied pointing at me.

"You followed me?" Bayo asked

"Don't be shocked, we are journalists. It's in the broad job description."

"How long have you been listening to our conversation?" I asked her.

She paused and replied, "I heard it all. Now are you telling the story or not?"

I turned to Bayo and he immediately knew what I was thinking. He walked up to Lola and asked, "Can we trust you?"

She smiled and said, "Well, if he isn't the killer, I am sure he has plans to find the killer. The deal is when he does I take all the credit. Deal?"

Bayo shook his head, a faint smile on his face and replied, "Deal."

I narrated my story to Bayo, Lisa and Lola, they were all fascinated. I could see it in their eyes that they believed every word I said, I could also see he wanted to know about his mother and it pained me to disappoint him by telling him the truth about her, as I explained to him that my love for Ola drove her to betray me, his face remained expressionless. This bothered me as I had expected to read the disappointment on his face. I also narrated the story of how I had found the dying lady and how I felt it was a set-up. I tried to make him understand how I really needed to find Ola and how I would have preferred our first meeting to have been under different circumstances but alas things do not always work out the way we plan.

"Your skill at unraveling difficult high profiled cases is known far and wide. I am proud of the man you have become despite my failure as a father. Son, I believe you are the only one who can help me find my wife."

Bayo was calm, he took in all I had said and began to think up possibilities and calculate the variables. He asked questions like "How many people know of your existence? How many people do you know that believe in the existence of bound spirits?"

I explained to him that the only people I was aware of that knew my true identity were my new family and I trusted every last one of them. The only other person who knew and had a motive was Uche, his mother.

Bayo

"She killed herself after your death. Why?" Bayo asked.

"Because she had failed in eliminating me, as my heart stopped with blood still in my body, which meant my cycle would continue and even worse, I had bridged the gap between Ola and I, which she desperately did not want. Killing herself was the only way to ensure she could pursue me into this new generation, blending in as a youth as well. This is the only way she can mingle with the youths. She's far more agile as she's younger and she does not have to worry about old age screwing up her plans."

"That's a shitload of answers for a simple question." he said frankly.

"There is nothing simple about our world." Saad replied.

Bayo stood up and moved to his bar, poured himself a scotch and turned to the others, "Anyone interested?"

"Two fingers, son." Saad replied.

Bayo poured some scotch into a glass for Saad and handed it to him. They took a swig simultaneously and shook their heads when they felt the burn.

"It helps me think." Bayo said.

"Me too." Saad replied.

"I have a theory," Bayo continued, "If she shot herself without putting too much thought into it, I believe she meant to continue this fight from where you guys left off in your past life. She could have found Ola before you. Then decided to wait patiently using Ola as bait, knowing you would come looking and the moment you found Ola and tried to make contact, she set her plan in motion to draw you out and make the city a hell hole for you."

"That's one hell of a theory." Lola said skeptically.

"It's brilliant!" Saad exclaimed, "Melinda, the deceased girl, knew exactly who I was and called me by my first name."

"Couldn't it be because Zaleka remembered and told her" Lola suggested.

"Highly unlikely, now that I think about it" Saad replied, "There was something about her voice that made me uneasy, it sounded familiar..."

"Like mother familiar?" Bayo interrupted

"No!" Saad said, "...but maybe. I really do not remember exactly what she sounds like"

Bayo snapped his fingers and they all turned to him. "What if whoever picked the phone wasn't who she claimed to be, impersonating Melinda. This person recognized your voice and knew you were Ayo."

"That means there's a third person involved." Lola said.

"Possibly." Saad replied.

"But the police have gone through the CCTV footage and they haven't found evidence of another person." Lola continued.

"They also didn't see Zaleka leave the house," Saad replied smoothly, "The bank footage was tampered with. I am sure of it."

"How do we proceed?" Lola said as she stood up, "I'm dying for action. I think both of us should visit the airline HQ. I am sure there's an angle the police haven't considered yet." Lola picked up her bag. "What are you waiting for? An invitation?" she said as she swung her hips leaving the living room.

Bayo picked up his coat, regarded Saad and said "Stay here, we'll be back soon."

"Take care." Saad replied as Bayo went after Lola .

Lisa tried to whisper something into his ears but he was in too much of a hurry to listen.

Diary June 23rd 5pm__ Same day

As they left Lisa and I in the apartment, it became awkwardly quiet. I was worried about Lisa's involvement in the whole thing, She was a risky variable, she could jeopardize everything. If she wanted to get even with me, she could alert the authorities of my presence and I would be taken away, Anything I could tell Bayo about her affairs would not matter much then. I would be locked away in prison and she would be free to wriggle her way out of my accusation.

I sat at the balcony on a couch facing the wide blue ocean, feeling the ocean breeze lightly graze my skin. I closed my eyes and for the first time that day, I felt relaxed. The wind sang spiraling notes, whistling a lullaby in my ears. I ached for a cigar, but I had none. Just then I felt the cushion sink a little as another's weight joined mine. I turned to see Lisa staring straight ahead, holding a glass of liquor with ice.

"You must hate me." She said, "I don't blame you, I would hate anyone who cheated on my kid as well. As soon as all this is over, I will tell him myself. I owe him that at least, for him to hear it from me."

I signaled with my fingers I wanted some of her drink, she passed it over and I took a good gulp and handed it back to her. I shook my head as the warmth of the liquor spread through me like a spirit attempting to possess a soul.

"Why?" I asked her.

She was quiet and then she said, "There is no excuse. It's just... he has been different this year, he paid less attention to me and he even forgot our anniversary. Today was his day off from work but he chose to work rather than spend the day with me. Ever since he became celebrated, the only thing he has been bothered about is to keep fueling that flame of fame. I feel so abandoned." She burst into tears.

I did not try to console her, I just watched her cry. After she had wiped her face, I asked who the man was.

"He is Bayo's colleague Paul, we dated in college."

"How long have you and Paul been...."

"Two months." She cut me short.

I sat upright on the couch. "Tell him when you're ready. You're right, you owe him that much and he just might forgive you."

"Thank you," she said, "I hope you find your wife, Ola."

Bayo

Bayo opened the door to Air Raven's headquarters and waited for Lola to walk in. Their ride down to the HQ had been the most pleasant time the two had shared in a very long time. They had discussed different possibilities and theories, Lola had also expressed her fascination with his father. She claimed she had so many questions that needed answers. She seemed awed at the fact he had lived three cycles on this earth.

She had been unusually talkative and Bayo began to remember how much fun she had been back in the days, He'd found her irresistible. He smiled to himself as he realized he still found her irresistible. Just then she turned and caught him smiling.

"Why are you smiling?"

He smiled even harder, exposing his white teeth. "I find you irresistible that's all."

"Oh! Flirtation." She replied, "You keep that up and I'm going to find it irresistible to wipe off your smile."

Just when they found a rhythm, the cab driver informed them they had reached their destination.

At the headquarters, Bayo and Lola walked straight to the receptionist and flashed their reporters' passes. The receptionist directed them to the manager. The manager was a slim, tall, elderly, aristocratic-looking man, his grey hair was neatly combed and he was tidy and well dressed. He welcomed them into his mildly furnished office and offered them coffee but they declined and went straight to business. They explained why they were there and how the investigation was important and it turned out the Manager was an ardent fan of Lola's show. Bayo allowed Lola do the talking again because he believed she had a way with elderly men. While she questioned him Bayo's busy eyes fell on the cartons of pagers arranged up a shelf.

Bayo immediately interrupted, "That's quite a lot of pagers."

"Well yes," he replied, "Every member of our staff is assigned one. They are to carry it at all times."

"If a pager is on, is the signal traceable?"

The manager was quiet for a couple of seconds and then he said, "Yes, I believe each pager emits its own special frequency, if the pager is on, we can search for its frequency by sending it messages. If we find its frequency, we can trace it to its source."

Bayo stamped his feet in excitement and regarded at Lola with an expression that seemed to say "I can't believe you are going to steal my hard work."

"Deal is a deal." She said, correctly reading the look on his face.

They turned to the manager and asked at the same time, "how do we trace it?"

"A radio scanner. I have one here, all you need is the ID of the pager you are searching for". He opened his drawer and handed us a list showing the Pager ID of each member of his staff.

Lola drew a little closer to him, "Can we borrow the machine and the list? I promise we'll return it as soon as we're through." she pleaded, flashing her beautiful wide eyes.

"Of course." he replied. He handed the box containing the radio scanner to Lola and she gave it to Bayo and they thanked the manager and departed.

Diary June 23rd 7pm

Bayo and Lola returned to the apartment with renewed vigor. Bayo explained that they had gotten a new lead. The airline assigned each member of the staff a pager with a unique ID and a signal that could be traced. If Zaleka/Ola was with hers, we could trace it, searching for its frequency after sending it a message. I was glad we finally had a lead.

I was not disappointed, my son Bayo was truly brilliant. I'd had enough brandy while waiting anxiously with Lisa and at this time, we were a bit tipsy and hungry. As Bayo laid the box on the center table in the living room, we surrounded the table. He removed the radio scanner from its box and set it on table. He picked out a pager, configured it and sent a message to Zaleka's pager ID. If Zaleka's pager was off, all our efforts would have been for nothing. We sat quietly, our thoughts like a calm river.

We kept our eyes on the screen of the pager, waiting for a delivery report. Five minutes went by and the message status still showed pending. While we waited, Lisa prepared a meal in the kitchen. The suspense suffocated me as I sat still with blank thoughts.

"Fuck!" I said, standing up "It's taking too long to deliver."

Lola sent me a concerned look but I stared away and headed straight to the balcony. Another night, I thought, and she remains out of my reach. I worried she might not have long to live, refusing to think about the possibility that she was already dead. I stared up into the sky, the moon had almost risen to its peak. The night was cold and I could hear the gentle roar of the ocean. I was joined at the balcony by Lola.

She tapped my shoulder and said, "Don't let the pager's delivery status worry you, Bayo will find her, He's the best. But for now, make the most of the night. You have your son tonight, from what you said earlier today you have been waiting for this chance, now you have it, do it right."

"Thank you." I nodded. "You're right. Worrying does not help the situation, it only spoils the happiness of the moment."

She smiled, "Exactly."

Lisa set the table at the balcony and served dinner. The four of us sat and had dinner while talking about the events of the day. It was a lovely evening dining with my son and his friends. I know I have mentioned it several times and I shall say it again, I was truly proud of my boy. He was everything I'd hoped for. The evening was marvelous, I was asked a lot of questions about my past lives and I answered as best as I could, telling them all they wanted to know.

I noticed a spark between Lola and Bayo that evening, and I could see Lisa saw it too. After Lisa finished her meal, she excused herself and left the balcony. Bayo was too busy sharing a laugh with Lola to notice Lisa's obvious moodiness. After a short while, I excused myself and searched for Lisa. Before I knocked on her door I listened and heard her crying. When I knocked, the crying stopped and after a while she said to come in. I opened the door and found her on the bed with her pillow held to her chest. She regarded me and told me she was glad I was the one at the door.

"I would not have been able to explain why i was crying if it was Bayo."

I remained quiet and sat on the settee facing the bed. She continued, "I know I have lost him, and it's not hard to see why, I failed at being patient for him to come around. Once I tell him what I have done it will be the end. We both see he has feelings for Lola."

"What are you going to do?"

"What I promised to do." she said curtly.

I smiled and stood, "You know, for what it's worth, I was wrong. First impressions do not reveal a person's true nature. You're not so bad."

She smiled. "Thank you" she replied. Just then we heard Bayo and Lola's laughter in the background.

Bayo

As Saad excused himself. Bayo and Lola were so into each other they did not miss the presence of Lisa and Saad. They were a little tipsy and they sat taking jabs at each other.

"My parents are divorced, I used to think there could not be a worse couple but apparently, I was wrong. Your parents... Your parents have taken this to a whole new level. Their misunderstanding transcended a lifetime into a new generation because it could. Wow! Your mum! Such hate." Lola said jokingly.

Bayo laughed out loud. "Thing is, we have only heard one side of the story."

"Whoa! You doubt your father?" She asked.

"No! It's not that," Bayo replied, "But it would be cool to at least hear both sides."

It was morning now, Lola checked her watch.

"It's 1am." she said as she stared up, "If anyone had told me I would be spending the night at your place, I would probably have punched the person, but here we are."

He took a sip of his brandy and said, "You know we could have handled things a lot better in college."

She shook her head. "You were a jerk."

Bayo drew closer to Lola. "You never heard my side of the story."

"What was there to hear? The whole campus heard it."

"My roommate Paul did that, he told a couple of his friends and before I knew it the entire campus was talking about it. It was completely out of my control and you never gave me a chance to explain. All I needed was a chance."

Lola was quiet. "Well I just wanted to forget it ever happened and move on with my life."

When Bayo and Lola were in their first year's in college, they were invited to a party. Bayo met Lola at this party and they instantly fell in love with each other. Young, wild, free and drunk, they ended up in Bayo's hostel to make out in private. While Lola was giving Bayo an Oral, Paul his roommate barged in and switched on the rooms florescent lighting. Lola was epileptic and the bright fluorescent lights startled her, triggering a seizure and she clamped down hard on his penis. The story of the incident had gone viral in school.

"It's in the past now," Lola said, "Wounds heal."

They were now staring deep into each other's eyes. Heart racing, Bayo touched her hand that lay on her laps.

"This is wrong." she said,

"But it feels right." Bayo replied.

Just as their lips touched, they pulled apart fast as they heard a door open. Saad came onto the balcony smiling.

"The message status reads delivered" he said.

Diary 24th, 2am

Finally the message delivered. Bayo convinced Lola to get some sleep as it could take some time to track the pager's frequency. After she left, Bayo and I sat in the living room with the radio scanner in between us, we put in Zaleka's pager's ID into the scanner and began searching for a match. We searched all morning with no luck.

At around 4am, Bayo began to fall asleep. I let him sleep and I kept on searching for a match. I soon began to feel drowsy, as the effect of all the liquor I'd drank began to claw its way into my consciousness. I yawned continually and my eyes watered, making tears drip down my cheek intermittently.

I decided coffee might do the trick but I felt too heavy to move. My strength was soon spent and I slowly began to descend into darkness.

I was woken by the sting of the morning sun on my face. My body ached and my temperature was high. My head hurt badly, and there was a bitter metallic taste in my mouth. I opened my eyes, squinting at the rays of sunlight reaching deep into the room. I sat up and moved to a corner of the couch to escape the sunlight, I observed around the room.

The ocean breeze blew curtains into a dance; the marbled floor shone a beautiful red, set off by the rays of the sun. I wondered where I was, as my brain fought to catch up, I heard a groan and turned to see a man that regarded exactly like me sit up on the couch! I stared at the man that seemed to be my mirror image - just older- and he stared at me. I was still very confused.

He smiled and said "Morning, Dad!" and as his voice echoed in my head, my memories slowly came back to me. I could remember fragments of the night before; I could also remember memories of my first Cycle. It was all mixed up in my head.

"Morning." I replied and stared away.

He yawned and continued, "We must have had too much to drink last night, I certainly passed out."

My memories were sure taking their sweet time to come to me. As I did not reply, he called out to me "Dad! Saad!"

I was struck cold as he called me Saad. I finally knew who I was, but something was missing. I could feel it.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I replied, "I am supposed to search for something."

He shot me a worried look. "Your wife!"

And it all came in at once, memories flooded into my head and energy surged through me like I had never felt. I jumped up, panicking. "The scanner!" I exclaimed, "Matching frequency, oh my God! what time is it?"

Bayo stood up and held my shoulder. "It's okay." he said, "We'll get right to it, but you have to calm down."

As quick as the burst of energy had come in, I suddenly felt weak and fell to the floor and fainted.

I regained consciousness in a bath tub with Bayo leaning over me, a sponge in his hand. I was touched, he cared for me. Still very weak, I murmured my thanks.

"It's okay. What happened there?" He enquired.

"I'm not so sure." I replied, "It has never happened, I couldn't remember anything for a while and when they finally started coming back to me I became confused. I'm scared, son. The last thing I want is amnesia. I cannot afford to forget you or Ola. You guys are my most precious memories."

"Don't worry." he replied, "You won't."

When we were finally sure I had regained my strength and would not faint again, Bayo left the bathroom for me to have my bath, I felt so much better after the bath. I came out to find he had set out new clothes for me so I dressed up and headed straight into the living room as it was noon already.

Lisa had prepared eggs and bacon. I thanked her, sat and ate while Bayo worked on the scanner while keeping an eye on me. After about thirty minutes, Lola walked through the door looking gorgeous; she was dressed differently in Khaki pants and a black top with roses, she sat beside me and asked how I was and I told her I felt better.

"You probably had too much to drink last night."

Just then, Bayo regarded us both. "I've got a match!" he said with a wide smile.

I jumped up to look at the screen, he was right. I saw the matching frequency ID, 158:012. Bayo immediately started trying to trace the signal. He scanned through the different local government servers, listening with his headphones for a strong service repel, as he scanned the Ikorodu - Bayeku server, its service was strong. He put down the headphones and turned to Lola and I.

"I found the source. Ikorodu – Bayeku."

"Then let's go!" Lola said.

I smiled at her and picked up my face cap. "After you." I said.

"Oh! Such a gentleman."

"I have to tell Lisa we might be home late." Bayo said and headed to his room.

As I opened the door for Lola, Chief of police, Shonekan stood at door with two other officers flanking him. Lola and I froze, he picked up Lola's hand and kissed it.

"Afternoon, Miss Lola." he smiled, exposing his decayed teeth.

"Afternoon, Chief. What brings you here?"

He turned to me, shooting me a look of distaste. "I came here to warn Bayo not to interfere with police investigations, I heard you were at the Air Raven headquarters asking questions. I will not tolerate any other interference from you, am i clear?"

"Crystal." I replied.

"Good." He said and turned away to leave.

He suddenly stopped after three steps and turned to look at me, "You look good." he said, "A lot younger too, is it a cream you're using?"

"Aloe Vera" I said curtly, trying hard to keep up Bayo's vocal pattern.

"Okay." he said and left with his officers trailing after him.

Lola shut the door. "That was really close." she said.

"Tell me about it." Bayo said from behind. He stood at the corridor watching us.

My forehead was beaded with sweat, I wiped it off and told them "Osun is with us on this day, we cannot give up now. Let's go"

***

I sat at the back seat of Bayo's Peugeot 406 with the scanner and headphones in my ear, while he and Lola sat in front. We drove out of his estate and headed straight for Ikorodu. We got to Ikorodu after an hour and half, the weather had become humid and the temperature had dropped. The clouds were dark and foreboding. The signal was strong in Ikorodu and I could sense we were getting closer to its source. We arrived at Bayeku at around 3:15pm, the signal led us straight to the beach. Luckily, the beach was deserted as it was a weekday.

"This is definitely its source." I said. It was windy and we could perceive the scent of rain.

Bayo turned round, looking at the beach. "I see nothing." He said.

"Except for that warehouse on the beach" Lola interjected.

"Let's check it out." I said.

We moved cautiously to the entrance and found it locked. Just as I was about to suggest looking for another entrance, Lola picked up a rock and smashed the padlock off. It was just as well we got in because it began to rain. It was dark inside the warehouse but luckily, Bayo brought a small torch along, the torch only illuminated a small part of the space but we were grateful for the light. Before we moved in any deeper, Bayo examined our surroundings first by torchlight. We saw nothing but containers, these containers were all opened. We moved forward searching each container but they were all empty. Just then Bayo found another door.

We got together in front of this door and opened it. Ola sat strapped to a chair in the middle of the room, eyes wide with fear and mouth taped. Without thinking, I rushed to her immediately and started loosening her straps. Lola was beside me to help and she removed the tape covering Ola's mouth.

"Who... Who are you?" Ola asked with fear in her voice when the tape was removed. I removed all her straps and she immediately tried to escape but Bayo caught her. Lola being the only female amongst us tried to calm her.

"It's alright." she said, "We are here to rescue you."

Finally, I thought, Finally I have found her. I stood up from the crouching position to face her and she was just as I remembered except, there was so much fear and pain in her eyes. I tightened my fist as anger boiled in me. I moved closer to her as Lola held her.

"Ola..." I said, trying to touch her face with my fingers.

"Don't touch me!" she cried out, "Please don't let him touch me."

I withdrew my hand in disappointment. "You don't remember me." I said with a sad smile.

"I don't know you."

Bayo starred searchingly, up and around the dark warehouse. "I think we should go, something's not right here, why isn't she guarded? This is a trap." he said.

As he turned to leave, we heard the sound of clapping approaching us from the direction of the exit and the door was slammed shut, we were cornered. The sound of the door being slammed shut caused Zaleka who was on edge to scream with panic.

"Welcome. I see you brought an audience."

__flashing lights cause seizures not bright lights__.

I knew that voice, it was the voice of Zaleka's deceased friend Melinda. I held my nerves and stood still watching, waiting for her to appear. She came up on a wooden platform I hadn't noticed before and then bright flashing fluorescent lights came on, blinding us with the suddenness. Lola fell to the floor jerking; convulsing with white foam oozing out of her mouth.

Bayo knelt by her, "It's okay... It's okay... I'm here." he said unconvincingly.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked.

"She's epileptic! The fluorescent light triggered an attack and she's having a seizure!"

Oh my! Not now, I thought.

"Why, Melinda? Why are you doing this to me?" Zaleka screamed at the platform.

"Oh shut up! You ignorant fool!" she said arrogantly. She stood tall, looking down at us from the podium, wearing a jean top and trousers. I finally realized why Melinda's voice was so familiar, it was also Uche's voice. Uche and Melinda were the same person.

"Uche." I said

"It's Melinda now."

"Well you'll always be Uche to me."

"Oh Romeo!" She smiled. "Missed me?"

"Whatever happened to your daddy?"

"He's well, thanks to you. The amount of blood we got helped him stay alive. I found him after my rebirth, he sponsors my espionage."

Bayo stared up as Lola had ceased her jerking, he made sure her body was relaxed and stood up to stand by me.

"Is that her?" He whispered so only the both of us could hear.

I nodded.

"I see you brought our boy; beautiful Bayo!" She smiled. "Baby, I'm mummy." She said to him.

"I know and may I say, I am not impressed." he replied.

"Oh! You're not? Pity! Well I can't please everybody. I see you have been listening to daddy."

Bayo turned to me and asked, "If she is Melinda, who was stabbed and raped in their apartment?"

Uche laughed out loud. "Forgive me, I am enjoying this a bit too much. Let me explain. It was all perfectly planned. The corpse the police found in the apartment was Mrs. Anichebe's; the porter. I lured and killed her upstairs, simulated rape with a rough toy and then bewitched her body to look like mine with a dark magic spell, a new trick i learnt. This was to destabilize you and any resources you might have wanted to use against me, making the city hell for you. Genius!" She said and shook her head admiring her plan.

Two armed soldiers appeared from somewhere behind us and pulled us to some chairs they had pulled out, I tried to resist but one of the soldiers threw me a punch that cracked my jaw. It took a little controlling to subdue Zaleka and she was placed in front of us all.

"You have had her in the crosshairs all this time, why didn't you just kill her and get your it over with?" I asked.

She laughed out and said, "True! I was able to identify her with the portrait painting you requisitioned of Master Dada. I found her since college and stuck to her. We were best friends, killing her has always been my plan but without your presence, where's the fun in it? I want you to suffer by watching her suffer. You see Romeo, she was never the main mission. She was bait to draw you out, you are my mission."

Now we were all firmly strapped to chairs including Lola who was slowly regaining consciousness.

"All this because I refused to choose you over my wife!" I spat blood out of my aching mouth. "What now? You finally have me."

She gave me a wolfish grin, "Now I give you another chance."

"Chance for what?" I asked.

"To choose again who you want, remember you can only have one."

"Uche I told you once and I'll say it again even with a gun in my mouth, her!" I shouted.

"Oh Romeo, which of the hers?" A door opened and my world was turned inside out. A soldier pushed out a lady that appeared exactly like Zaleka towards Uche, her hands tied behind her back and her mouth taped shut.

"She is called Zamira." Uche said, holding her and making her kneel beside Zaleka.

"Surprise! I bet you did not see this coming. They are identical twins. Imagine my shock when I found out. Even I don't know which of them is the seed Mama Jaja gave you that sprouted. So Romeo, which one is your Ola? May love guide your choice!" She said as she laughed hysterically.

Suddenly she stopped laughing and straight-faced, she pointed a gun at their heads; pointing at one, then the other. Lola, Bayo and I just stared powerlessly.

"Choose, Romeo." she said, "Or I kill them both."

Bayo had been quiet through the exchange, but now he exclaimed "Mother! You cannot just kill these innocent girls in cold blood."

"Watch me." she replied, "If he doesn't choose soon, I will kill both of them in a heartbeat."

"Mother! Listen to me, you are not a monster."

"And how do you figure?" she asked.

"Growing up without parents wasn't easy." Bayo began to explain, "Parents bring up their kids how best they can, as they see fit, visualizing a better version of themselves and imparting their ideals in their children, but some behaviors aren't taught, they are innate; an inheritance of behavioral traits from our parents. Some orphans do not get parental teaching as some of us never knew our parents, so we can only guess at the kind of people our parents were through ourselves and people have told me I am kind, compassionate, selfless, humble, loyal and honest."

We all listened with a deep conviction that he was getting through to Uche, as she had tears in her eyes.

She sniffled. "I am proud of the man you have become, Bayo but those traits you have listed come from your father not me. I am a monster." she concluded.

Bang! Her gun spat.

Time froze for millisecond, Lola had awakened at some point during the exchange and she sat, mouth wide open mirroring Bayo's expression. The sound of the gun shattered my heart. Zaleka screamed as Zamira's head exploded and blood splattered on Uche's face and jean top.

"Time up." she said with a wicked smile.

"Monster!!! You're a monster!" I shouted as hard as I could, veins bulging at the side of my head, straining for release but the straps held me tight.

"Well I just said that already." She calmly replied.

Lola and Bayo were crying, he had not believed she would pull the trigger, just as he felt he was getting to her. I was raging, watching Zamira bleed out made me a bit nauseous but I steeled my nerves.

Had I failed all over again? Was that Ola? I was crying badly now.

"Aww, Romeo! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She came closer to me and whispered in my ear.

"I know, I'm a terrible liar. Now for phase two." she said pointing to the soldiers and then us. Two of the soldiers came up to me and lifted my chair up, positioning me so I was sitting face to face with Zaleka. Zaleka's mouth had been taped again, as she was being a total nuisance at that point.

"Now we end it, and you are going to watch each other die." She bent down and gazed into my eyes, "I am going to bleed you dry."

"Mother please!" Bayo shouted, also wrestling with his straps.

Lola kept on screaming, "Help! Help! Somebody help."

"Quiet, bitch." Uche shot her an extremely evil stare.

"I am not scared of you, you witch" Lola spat.

"Oh, but you should be" Uche responded coldly.

Bayo was still begging and wrestling with his chair. Uche walked over to Lola and squatted in front of her. "Scream again, bitch. I dare you."

Lola stared defiantly at her and as she attempted to open her mouth, Uche put two bullets into her stomach. This sent Bayo into a temporary shock and the words "No, No, No" poured repeatedly from his mouth.

I regarded Lola before i closed my eyes. This was my entire fault. I had gotten her involved in my fight.

Uche stood in front of me yet again holding a razor, she slashed my wrist cutting open an artery and then slashed Zaleka's wrist.

"Here we go!" she said. We began to bleed out fast like taps. I regarded Zaleka, she was crying, her eyes were red.

"I love you." I said sadly, "Another life maybe..."

Uche smiled and interrupted "There will be none of that, your cycle ends today."

I managed to turn so I could see my boy one last time. He was frightened and crying. We stared at each other and I managed a smile and said to him, "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm proud of you. I love you."

I began to feel cold and drowsy, I knew this feeling, death had come for me again. As I tried to let go so the darkness could claim me, the doors burst open and there was an exchange of gun fire with us at its center. Uche's guards were taken out and she was left alone. Now, knowing I might have a chance at survival, I started fighting the darkness, struggling to stay in the light, everything around me sounded in distant echoes, my eyes closing and reopening, at some point I saw Uche aim for me. She shot at me but missed. Before she could take another she was shot down. I passed out.

28TH June, 2000 10am

I woke up in an hospital to find Malik sitting on a chair beside my bed, reading a newspaper.

"You're finally up," he said with a warm smile, "You lost a lot of blood."

"I know." I replied, "How long have I been here?"

" Four days."

"Four days!" I exclaimed, "How are the others?"

"They are okay, just one dead; the twin to your Zaleka."

"I'm sure it must have bummed you out to find out they were twins." He continued.

I did not reply that. "Where are Bayo, Lola and Zaleka?"

"Zaleka and Lola were discharged yesterday and your son Bayo was here yesterday, he brought gifts."

"And the killer? Uche... Sorry. Melinda. Where is she?" I asked weakly.

"Relax." he said, "She's in a coma. She is also being watched by the police and once she's up, she'll be arrested."

"Okay! One last question." I said, "How did the police find us?"

"The manager at Air Raven gave them the exact info he gave you guys so they tracked the frequency to the warehouse at the beach, luckily for you guy."

"How soon can I be discharged?"

Malik smiled. "I'll see the nurse."

28th 2000, June 5am

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, Bayo came to pick me up and I introduced him to Malik. Malik was astonished by the resemblance. I said my goodbyes to Malik and Bayo drove me over to his place where he said I had a gift waiting for me. We finally got to the apartment and as I entered the living room, I saw Lola playing a board game with someone I did not see. The other person squealed with so much excitement and delight to see me.

"Saad! It's so good to have you back."

It was Zaleka. She was dressed in a splendid black gown embedded with glittering stones. She offered her hand for a handshake and we shook smiling at each other while Lola and Bayo watched us but we did not care.

"I have heard so much about you, and it's a pleasure to finally meet my hero."

Bayo came over to us. "I'm sorry" he said, "I need to steal him for a moment."

Bayo and I went over to the windy balcony. "Wow!" He said, "We are alive!"

I smiled, "I told you Osun has got us covered."

"She sure took her sweet time to save us." Bayo joked.

"Hey..." he continued. "...you should start afresh with Zaleka, she doesn't know you but she really likes you."

I laughed out loud. I turned to watch Zaleka and Lola in the sitting room having so much fun with their board game.

"Where is Lisa?" I asked him.

Bayo took a sip of his brandy before replying, "She moved out two days ago. She told me everything and even said you knew, that the both of you agreed she should be the one to tell me."

"How did you take the news?"

"I was shocked of course, but also relieved as my feelings for her had begun to die. I love Lola, I think I always have." I smiled.

"What about Uche?" Bayo asked.

"What about her?"

He cleared his throat and said, "I heard she is in a coma. If she escapes, she will come after us again and if she dies, she will be reborn and she will still come after us. I think it's fair to say she is a psychopath and as long as she is alive, she is a threat to our happiness. You know this."

"I do." I replied, "What do you want us to do about it? Kill her while she's been watched? There is no way to kill her properly now that she is under surveillance" I concluded.

Bayo shook his head.. "Maybe we don't need to kill her properly. We could just kill her and buy ourselves a few more years to live happy until she is fully grown again."

"Bayo this isn't right, you should have no hand in the death of your mother."

He regarded me, and shook his head disappointedly. "It's on you if she comes back. And she will. Let's eat."

***

September 10, 2000

The next three months, life had become the beautiful story my first father had believed it was, I was genuinely happy. I had my son, Zaleka and time. I had it all but my nightmares continued at a phenomenal rate. I still could not remember my dreams once I awakened, but waking up every morning to see Zaleka's face just inches away from mine brightened my soul. Her presence helped me get through the mornings after my nightmares. Zaleka had come to love me as much as I loved her.

I bought a huge house on the island in Lagos and we all lived together; Bayo, Lola, Zaleka and I. We were one big happy family. Bayo and Lola were expecting a baby, things just kept getting better. It was too good to be true, the pessimist might say. I was going to be a grandfather. Bayo remained obsessed with his mother and he followed her medical status very cautiously.

I soon learnt happiness was not an emotion to be owned by an individual, regardless of certain factors like age or wealth. Happiness is triggered by joy. Your emotional state of wellbeing - your joy - can change or leave as easy as it came. Time is an instrument of change and change is constant in our timeline. No matter how much joy or happiness you feel at a particular moment in time - no matter how infinite it feels – Soon, that moment will exist in the past, replaced by a new one because a new moment is made per second in time.

People say live in the moment, but how do you when time is change, and that change might be loss of a love one. Time in a moment per second without the loved ones you shared your finest moments with, feeling infinite. Change may cause grief and grieving prevents you from enjoying, recreating and creating new moments. It is hard to live in a world of constant change, especially when these changes are negative.

True happiness cannot be bought or sold, she is a free spirit of the air that blows like the wind. Unpredictable, she is everywhere and instantly she can be nowhere. She blesses who she pleases with hope, joy, laughter, smiles and goodwill, and only the pure ones - the righteous - may seek and find her.

Zaleka had not seen her family since the death of her twin, Zamira. Her mother called one early saturday morning to tell her that her father was critically ill and he had requested one last meeting with his children. In our time together, she had often spoken of her father. I remember she used to say, "He loves his kids to a fault".

She left for Kaduna immediately and I was left alone with Bayo and Lola who were still celebrating the arrival of a new soul into our complicated family tree. The afternoon of the saturday Zaleka left, I received an unexpected call from my mother, she sounded very sad. The last time we had spoken was during my grandmother, Gadajan''s burial, I had consoled her as best as I could.

"What's wrong?" I asked when I heard her low voice.

She cleared her throat, told me she had a favor to ask and begged that i accept. I did.

"So what is it mother?" I asked.

"Your father," she said, "He's dying."

I tried to understand what it had to do with me because she had never discussed him with me. Why now?

"Saad, I'm sorry." She continued, "I told him about you five years ago. He wants to see you before he dies." She pleaded, now almost crying. "Please it is his dying wish, I have to honor it. Please Saad, you just have to show up for one day and that's all."

I was a bit surprised and I had tons of questions to ask but I finally decided to please her and go see him. We agreed to meet at Hotel Magic in Kaduna next day and leave together for my father's family house in Kaduna.

"I'll meet you there." she said, "I love you." That concluded our conversation, the rest of my evening was dedicated to preparing for Sunday's trip. I explained it all to Bayo and told him I would be taking the next flight to Kaduna.

He smirked and said to me, "You and Zaleka cannot just stay away from each other." We laughed.

"I doubt I will see her tomorrow. She's probably somewhere in some distant corner of Kaduna.

Sunday went very smoothly, I landed in Kaduna at about 10am and a taxi took me straight to Hotel Magic. I met with my mum, she smothered me with kisses and asked so many questions about my life and how I was living. She dressed up and she handed me a peculiar traditional attire to wear, explaining that it was meant for the children to wear and it was culture.

"It's more than just a meeting?" I asked, frowning.

She kissed my forehead and said, "It is his last party."

By the way she spoke, I understood that she really needed to see him. My birth had cost her their love as she'd had to flee from him. I might as well do it and do it well one last time for her. I wore the traditional attire and we left for my father's house.

When we got there, an elderly butler who wore a white dashiki welcomed us in. It was a big house, and from what i observed while we drove in, it was well secured with high fences, guards and heavy gates. The elderly man who led us in knew my mother and they exchanged pleasantries while we moved through different parts of the house. The interior smelled sweet, like flowers.

We finally got to the parlor, I could see people from length of the corridor as we came in. It was a huge hall-like room with high ceilings, and great stairs streaming the height of the walls. Every furniture seemed golden; the chairs , tables, the trays, the kettles, even the patterned paintings on the ceilings were golden. I had never seen so much faces in one room. Incense burned at the center of the room by a bed. An old man lay on the bed surrounded by people sitting on chairs and I rightly assumed it was my father, who else could it be?

As mother and I entered the room, many faces watched us, whispering. I felt a bit uneasy about this, but mother held my sweaty palm firmly in hers as if she sensed my uneasiness.

As we reached the chairs, she knelt and introduced herself. My father heard her name from his sick bed and immediately tried to get up but his wife who sat by him pleaded for him to remain in bed. She stood and asked that a path be made for us to where he lay and the crowd obliged. Walking through, I saw the exact native outfit I wore on a man and two other ladies. My siblings, I thought.

Soon, mother and I stood looking down at him on his sick bed. His hair was scanty and white as snow, his nose broad and thick, his skin was fair and shrinking and his lips were dark. I could tell he had smoked enough tobacco in his time. His features seemed like any regular old man's but his eyes... his brown eyes unnerved me. They were young and alive. They reminded me deeply of Zaleka's brown eyes, they were probably the fastest tool on his old aching body.

Mother knelt by his bed and greeted, calling his name. "Mallam Bello." she said, and he turned to look at her.

"Faridha... You came back to me." He said smiling. He regarded me and spoke to me, "I see your star, it's beautiful."

This was strange for my star had been bewitched and nobody but this old man saw it.

I replied, "Thank you, sir."

He regarded me before he turned to regard my mother, he told her,

"He is beautiful."

My mother replied by nodding her head. His wife did not seem to share his joy, she stood up and excused herself.

He signaled the butler over to him. "Help me up." he said, but the butler protested.

"I want to sit, damn it!" he said, coughing. I reached for him before the butler could reply.

"Thank you."

I stood in this strange room, aware of the stares and whispers that our arrival had caused and I could not stand to turn and look, I felt their eyes on my every move.

Father sat up in bed and exhaled, he swung his shoulder in the exact way my Zaleka swung hers. I cannot wait to tell her my father swings his hand the same way she does, I thought. There was a microphone on his bed, I had not noticed it before but now he reached for it, brought it close to his lips and spoke into it, swinging his shoulder slowly again.

"I am happy today. I am with family; my brothers, sisters, my cousins, nieces, nephews and my children, Oh! my children. They know how much I love them. It tore my heart to lose one of my daughters Zamira months ago." Just as he said that my heart banged against my rib cage violently.

I turned to regard the individuals i shared attires with – the individuals i had taken to be my siblings. Regarding them i saw just a man and two women, No Zaleka. I turned round to observe the crowd searchingly but still no Zaleka. Just then, his wife returned to the parlor with Zaleka behind her wearing the same costume I donned. I held my breath, trying to hold myself together. She was surprised to see me. She took quick steps over to me.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, bewildered. At this point, she noticed my attire and touched it.

"I came to see my father." I replied.

"Oh my God!" she said in a whisper, and her eyes turned glassy as we stared at each other.

Mother came close and asked if she knew me, before she could reply father called our attention and said "My family, permit me to announce an addition to our number."

He turned to me and signaled for me to come closer, I did. "This is my son Abdul Saad Bello, given to me by Faridha Abdul, my lost mistress." The family clapped hard, some even standing. I forced out a smile trying hard not to look at Zaleka.

My new siblings came over and introduced themselves and so did her mum. When it was her turn she came over to me, now crying, she hugged me harder than ever and the family even clapped harder, cheering.

She whispered in my ears, "I love you with all my heart."

I stared at the ceiling, and tried to blink away tears. That day, there was a lot of merrymaking, cheering and eating, I did not partake. I sat with my father, talking to him about my life and growing up, this pleased him very much. We spoke of a lot, including growing with my mum's family of witches, I could not fathom how he knew of these things, he prodded and listened attentively showing genuine interest in my life.

Frankly, I did not want to delve to deep into his life but he talked to me, he told me he loved my mother and spoke of how heartbroken he had been when she disappeared, and his illness, he said so many things were wrong with his body; cancer, brain tumor...

Speaking with him helped clarify why he was so loved by his family. He was well educated, honest, jovial and had a deep love for his family. Soon I said my goodbye to him as he needed his rest. I met with the eldest child, he spoke a lot trying to be friendly and I responded positively as I appreciated his effort. His sisters were shy and said very little. I could care less for I had come to realize I had fallen into a problem I had never expected. With this new family, came the distortion of my love life with Zaleka. Hours had gone by and I still had not seen her, I began to get worried. Just then Amina, our half-sister came up to the balcony where I stood deep in thought.

"Hi." she said and I replied. She stood for some time looking uncomfortable and finally she spoke.

"I'm sorry things happened like this. She is crying in her room, she is devastated."

"Who do you speak of?" I asked.

"Zaleka. It's okay. I know. She showed me pictures of the both of you last night, she was really excited and then this happened." She said sadly.

I turned away from her and regarded the clear, darkening sky.

"She says you should not wait for her, she will see you in Lagos." Aminat concluded and turned to leave.

"Have a safe flight." she said while leaving.

"It is really out of my hands." I said to myself when she was gone.

I returned to my home on the island and Lola and Bayo were happy to see me. I was happy to see them as well but Bayo could sense something was wrong. I finally told him everything, he was speechless.

"The universe is really against the both of you." He said, after he got over the shock.

"You think?" I replied sarcastically. "First it was slavery, and then it was age, now she came as my sister. Fuck!!!"

***

The next two weeks seemed like the hardest time in my life, I was completely lost without her. She had contacted me the week before and told me she was pregnant and that it was an abomination to keep such a child. She did not give me the chance to talk or come to an agreement as she ended the call shortly after she told me her mind was made up.

August 17

Three months and I still had not seen Zaleka, I was literally losing my mind. I remained in bed for days on end, not bathing and not eating properly. I locked myself up in my room and all I did was smoke my cigarettes and drink alcohol, anything to help forget my heartache – anything to numb the pain. I had lost the happiness in me, all that was left was despair. Bayo tried all the tricks in his book to get me out but failed, he was really worried about me. I began losing and recovering my memories more frequently so I decided to keep a journal to help me remember incase my amnesia became severe. My nightmares also increased, I was plagued in my dreams.

I was in a farm, digging out a big tuber of yam. As I pulled the head of the yam, it suddenly loosened and I fell holding just the head, but no yam. Baffled, I searched the hole desperately for my yam but could not find it. Then I felt a mighty wind blow through the farm, and as the trees swayed and their leaves danced, Mother Osun emerged from the trees, standing tall and mighty. The farm disappeared and became a river. I saw my parents gliding on a boat heading straight for the mighty Osun. They reached her, my mother held something in her arms. I stared making an effort to look further. I saw my parents offer my yam to Osun.

I shouted,

"No mother! That's mine!"

"No it isn't." Osun replied, "Soon, they will all be mine."

"What!" I exclaimed.

Osun regarded me with her eyes burning in flames and she said,

"Are you prepared to come home? Only life can pay for life."

Suddenly I was drawn aggressively into the river. I unsuccessfully struggled to free myself but whatever it was, it held on firmly. Soon, water filled my lungs and i faded into the darkness.

I woke up from another nightmare, sweating and panting. For the first time, I could remember what I had dreamt of.

"Only life can pay for life."

These words resounded, what were they supposed to mean? It was 4am, I sat on my bed and reached for the brandy left over in my glass on the bedside table. I took a swig and threw the empty glass cup away at the spark of frustration that shone in me.

Suddenly, I was jolted by loud screams. I heard Lola scream continuously, I bolted for their room and met her at the corridor running in the direction of my room screaming.

"Bayo! Oh my God, Bayo! Bayo is ...!!!"

I got into their room and found my boy on the marble floor convulsing, he was vibrating at an extraordinary rate, his eyes were as red as blood. I turned to Lola and screamed at her to call for an ambulance. Just then, Bayo stopped and was as calm as still water. I knelt beside him, his eyes were still wide open.

"Bayo!" I called out to him but there was no response from him. Lola joined me, kneeling and crying hard. Bayo opened his mouth, chest puffed out and spoke with the heaviest baritone voice I have ever heard, "Only life can pay for life."

His chest contracted and he closed his eyes taking his last breath. Lola fainted. I touched his wrist, looking for a pulse but I could find none. He was dead. In shock, I sat with my back to his bed and cried.

***

A month after Bayo's death, I sat at my balcony looking at the city. I had grown a big beard and appeared a shadow of myself. Lola and I comforted each other as best as we could. Well, I did most of the comforting as she was always quick to cry. The stress began to affect the baby and she began to have complications with the pregnancy which drove us to the hospital on several occasions. We were told the baby was going to be premature and a possible date was given which we marked on the calendar.

Now that Bayo was dead, Lola lost the happiness and joy her unborn child had given her. I could see she had lost the will to keep this baby but I was by her, giving her strength. As I sat thinking, a knock on the door broke through my thoughts, I stood up and went to the door to find out who it was.

"Zaleka."

When she said her name, I hurriedly opened the door and as she walked in through the door she began to apologize but I did not care for her apologies. I reached for her, lifted her high up into the air and held on tight to her.

"I thought you would be mad at me."

"I was." I replied, "Not anymore."

We sat on the balcony, talking and reminiscing, Bayo's death dominated the conversation. We also talked about her aborted pregnancy. She explained that she could not bear to give birth to our child in such shame, he would have be born ashamed of himself and his parents. I nodded and told her I understood.

2016

Michael and Maggie

"What!" Maggie and I exclaimed.

"If Zaleka, your mother killed the child she was supposed to have 16 years ago, where the fuck did you come from?" Maggie asked bewildered.

I froze, not replying or saying anything.

"Yo!" Maggie continued, "This is messed up. I reconsider. Maybe we should just let this journal be. Don't get me wrong, I love me some adventure, but not at the expense of your sanity, Michael. I can see this journal screwing your brains out".

I replied this time. "I am not stopping for anything in the world. I am seeing this through". I attempted to pick up the journal but Maggie beat me to it, shutting the journal close.

"It's already 7pm, you have to eat. You need food to keep up your physical and mental strength." She stared at me straight-faced and I could see her determination.

"I'll get something for us to eat." I responded and lifted myself off my seat. I closed the library door behind me and attempted to get to the kitchen undetected - in stealth mode, but as I turned to walk to the kitchen, I came face to face with my mother.

"Are you okay, baby? You have been too weird these past few days, is there something I need to know?" she asked.

"Oh no, mother" I replied "Is there something I need to know though?"

"Like what? What is it I haven't told you already?"

"You have told me nothing but lies." I said, confronting her head on.

"Michael, I don't understand where this is coming from."

"Look I know I am not your kid, it's all in Uncle Saad's journal. So for the first time I want the truth. Who are my parents?"

Mother kept quiet for some time and then she said, "I think you should complete your journal." and she walked away from me.

I fetched milk, chocolate creams and bread and took it up to Maggie. We had dinner in silence, I ate and worked on his computer. I finished my meal and snapped my fingers at Maggie and she responded by throwing the journal to me.

"Hey!" she said, "At least now you know you are not a product of an unholy sibling union, you can be even more grateful." She laughed out loud.

Diary August 20th, 2000.

Lola was really pleased to see Zaleka. They spoke for hours on end each day and Zaleka helped prepare for her delivery.

"Have you decided on a name?" Zaleka enquired.

"No." Lola replied, "But Bayo did say something about naming the child Michael if it's a boy or Olalola if it is a girl."

"Micheal, it is." Zaleka said with a giggle as she leaned in to whisper to the unborn child in Lola's womb, "Because I am so sure you are a boy". I smoked a cigar and watched them, smiling.

That night, Lola's water broke just as dinner was served and we fell into a panic. I drove the car to the hospital while Zaleka sat behind with Lola trying her best to comfort her as labor pain kicked in. When we got to the hospital, she was carried straight into the operation room. She was to have a caesarean and this bothered Zaleka and I. After an hour and half of pacing in the reception, news finally came. The doctor came into the waiting room and asked for her husband, to which I swiftly replied "Deceased."

"What is it, doctor? Something wrong with the baby?"

"No," he replied, "I would just prefer to speak to her family."

"We are her family."

"Okay." the doctor began finally. "We were able to deliver the baby, but we had complications as we performed the caesarean. We found out that two bullets punctured her womb sometime in the past, she must have thought it had healed and all was fine , but as we performed the operation, complications arose and we could not bring her back. I'm sorry Mr. Abdul, she is dead." I was deeply shocked.

"Again!!!" Zaleka stood up as she heard the news and began to laugh. A laughter that began slowly like she was insane, and then she moved a gear up and started crying and wailing. She fell to the floor, rolling and weeping. I was deeply hurt, I could not understand why all of a sudden, sorrow and death circled me.

We took the baby home with us. My grandson, I stared at him with great pride and sadness as he lay in his cradle and I smiled as I saw he carried my mark. Not on his fore head but his right shoulder.

I immediately hired a nurse for him. Nurse Boju, She knew his mother Lola and worked at the hospital where Lola put to bed. She was of immense help to us, she was Michael's own health care personnel. Zaleka and I also took good care of him. Zaleka seemed to love him above everyone including myself. She never let him out of her sight. She took him as her own. Soon we put aside the agony of our past and thoughts of the problem that obstructed our love. Happiness slowly and calmly blew our way, filling us with joy and laughter as baby Michael drew his happiness our way.

Zaleka and I agreed it would be best if she adopted Michael, we lived together as a family. Time began to pass as it should. A year passed and baby Michael began to grew healthily and strong. A beautiful little boy. His first word put things into perspective as he called me Dada!

For a moment we celebrated his first word until Zaleka and I realized what it meant. If she was his mother, I could not be his father. Zaleka lay by me, her slim fingers stroking my chest.

'This, what we have here is a beautiful secret." She explained, "We are only postponing the inevitable. Saad I love you, i am tired of hiding the one I love. I am tired of hiding our this family we have made. We cannot grow old hiding in sin, and as much as this hurts me we have to stop this once and for all. I have a kid now and you cannot be anything but his uncle."

All she said was true, things had changed. My grandson was now in the mix. I was not willing to have him live a complete life of lies, he deserved more. So, I decided to finally let go.

January 2016

Fifteen years have gone by and the only significant event was my mother's death which hurt for a while but I am accustomed to losing loved ones. Things have been normal. I spend my days at home building my library, reading, researching and writing. Zaleka visits as regularly as she can and Michael spends holidays with me. I am nothing but an uncle to my grandson but I appreciate the time I get to spend with him. I am fiercely proud of my grandson, he is just as smart and as handsome as his father was.

My journal has helped me a lot as several times, I have been unable to remember anything and re-reading it reminds me of who I am.

I have started having nightmares after Michael's visits, and this time I remember clearly what I have dreamt. They are the same dreams I had before Bayo's death and it scares me. Dreams of Osun reaping my harvest.

Bayo appeared to me in a dream a few nights ago, telling me to save what is ours and come join him above. I know what it means now. Only life can pay for life.

I have to return to Osun for her to spare my lineage.

***

I came impatiently to this world seeking its marvel, and I was marveled. I have lived for almost two hundred and fifty years born into three cycles and I have witnessed the evolution of civilization to what it is today. I have seen leaders in Presidents, Kings and Queens crowned and dethroned. I have fought in revolutions that changed our world.

I have been afraid, I have been brave, I have been proud and ashamed. I have been beaten as a slave in subjection, I have loved, I have hated, I have cried and laughed, I have cheered, I have jeered, I have seen so many inexplicable wonders of the earth. I have given life to a child and he gave life to another and the love that I feel for them is true; It is my crowning accomplishment, that I will give all, including my final breath so they can draw another, living on in my stead.

I sit here in my library, knowing what I have to do, unafraid with a smile on my face because I finally got the beautiful death I have always wanted.

Goodbye Micheal, you're debt free off Osun. Do believe I rest in a better place, by the side of my mother and goddess. Our fond memories shall remain with me as long as time exists. Tell Zaleka, i would love her Always and forever...

***

Michael

I closed the diary, staring at Maggie with tears dripping down my cheeks.

"He died for me." I said in a soft whisper.

Maggie held me. "It's okay," she said, "Saad was a hero."

***

"Michael! Michael! Michael!!" I heard someone call, and then I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Come on, boy. Wake up."

I opened my eyes to find my head on a history book which lay on the desk. As I sat up, Uncle Saad stood smiling at me.

"Wow! That's some deep sleep. You have a visitor."

"What!" I exclaimed and turned to see Maggie holding her jacket standing by the library door post.

"Come on, sleepy head. We're late."

"I was asleep this whole time?" I asked as I stood, a hand over my mouth as I yawned.

"Err...Yes."

Speechless I fell to my seat and shook my head laughing. "Oh wow." I said.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Saad asked coming closer. I stared at him closely and found the star shaped scar on his forehead. I immediately took off my shirt, intent on searching my shoulder, there it was; I found it, my star.....

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A versatile young writer, visionary and a realist. In love with the face of beauty, the sound of music, the delicate green of the earth and endowed with the spirit of pure green imagination.

"Nature flows through me revealing her beauty and wonders,

her vast superiority over all else that embraces limitations.

She revels in my mind and soul and blesses me with fertile green fingers;

fingers so fertile I sow seeds in the skies and in the clouds and reap a harvest so bountiful, humanity lacks insight."

Meto Michael Adoglo, was born in Nigeria to Mr. and Mrs. Adoglo. The third of four children, he graduated with a degree in Economics from École le Citoyen, Université d'Abomey-Calavi. He is in his early twenties. He is ambitious, jovial, intelligent and inspired by so many great individuals including hard working uncle's in Bayo Aina Padonou (Writer), Segun Arinze Aina (Actor), Kayode Aina (producer) and Jimi Aina (Rave TV Presenter); their contribution to Nollywood and the Nigerian entertainment industry has been an inspiration to him. Meto Michael Adoglo has been writing since 2010, he started off writing poems, pop and rap song lyrics. By 2014 he evolved to writing novels with several genres; and soon found love in the embrace of fiction.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my parents Mr. and Mrs. Adoglo and to my sisters: Fifanatin Adoglo and Ebun Padonou. I also appreciate everyone who has supported me as an author, friend, grandson, nephew, cousin and lover.

I am forever grateful for the role you have played in my life and to the success of My Third Cycle.

