WEDLOCK OF THE SPIRITS AND OTHER STORIES

A FATHER'S CRY

A FATHER'S  CRY

John looked like one who had been slapped across the face and gang raped by a bevy of seemingly gentle ladies, his expression had been blank for the most part of the day and he looked like he had lost all care of the world. Now he scoffed and his face looked ashen, his smile was wry and his usual bristling whisker-like moustache had become relaxed and settled like a damp rat that escaped from a wild sea animal by a hair's breadth.
He walked towards his room and stopped midway to look at the door before opening it, he dropped his penknife on a small reading table before letting himself slump on his bed, he was soon fast asleep.

Richard Imonikebe was a successful Urhobo businessman, he was known throughout the Niger Delta for his exploits in business, although everyone knew him as a miser, lore had it that once when a fellow Urhobo businessman had met him for what everyone else considered a soft loan, he had flatly refused to lend him the money, he gave miserly amounts as offering in church and he never gave to charity or contributed to church projects, such was his miserly nature that people called him money miss road, he had just two children whom he barely sent to school, John was his first son and his daughter, Onome. Despite his enormous wealth, his children attended the public secondary school in the town and when John was done with his secondary school education, Chief Richard Imonikebe asserted he had no money to send him to the university, this decision too surprised everyone who knew him. "You're going to ruin this children", a business associate had warned, I barely got education myself, the business tycoon had countered. I got everything I have today through gritting determination, they can borrow a leaf from me too.
Why do we make money if not to ease the burdens of our children, the man had stated.
To this, Chief said nothing but stuck to his guns nonetheless.

John was in need of some cash and he knew he couldn't get it out of his father by merely telling him to give him the money so he devised a plan, he would meet his fathers financial secretary and hand him a forged letter ordering for some money, he would definitely honour the letter, he thought. A fortnight later, he had obtained a forged letter and imputed his father's signature, a computer expert had manipulated it for him.
John drove to Mr Matthew's office, a dark complexioned Yoruba man, he was his father's financial secretary, Mr Matthew was a short stocky man with wide nostrils and a shock of plenty hair that was always well trimmed, he could have been anything between 25 to 35, he welcomed John to his office.
Good morning sir, John greeted jauntily
Good morning my good man, Mr Matthew answered stressing on my good man and cackling loudly.
So to what do I owe this August visit? Mr Matthew asked, the smile still plastered to his face and his wide nostrils twitched, John always thought of him as amusing.
Sir, I have a little problem, I  don't know if my father has let you know that I was coming today, he said bringing out a sheet of paper from his bag and handing it over to Mr Matthew, he took it and picked up his spectacles from the edge of his table and perused through the letter.
#10 million! He screamed, but Chief should know that the company does not have such money.
Well, I will be leaving Nigeria soon, John said and Chief has agreed to that amount.
Mr Matthew looked at the letter again and the signature on it was convincing, the signature had successfully beguiled the unauthentic undertone of the letter. He shook his head and said; Well, this will be devastating on the company but since Chief has ordered it, who am I not to grant the request? He asked rhetorically and shrugged his shoulders. He tore out a cheque leaf and signed it, his hands shook as he wrote the humungous amount, he also wrote his name, John Imonikebe as recipient, John smiled and took the cheque then he shook Mr Matthew's right hand warmly.
It was only when John had left that he realized that he ought to have called Chief but he didn't feel John would want to dupe his father.

John arrived The United Kingdom and changed his telephone lines, however his father had discovered his fraud and set up a manhunt to hunt him down, but he had sacked Mr Matthew, calling him a lousy ignoramus,for the fact that he was an opulent fellow, the manhunt was taken with all seriousness. John had put up with an old time secondary school pal who had traveled abroad in search of greener pasture, his name was Akpan, a Calabar boy who smiled too much, laughed too much and joked too much, he was a short, fair complexioned young man who had become bald too soon, so he always maintained a clean shave making his friends call his head, the great mirror but he had obvious comely features, dimples which sat comfortably on both sides of his cheeks whenever he smiled, a long nose that looked too pinched at the tip that John thought he lacked sufficient oxygen to breath and dark bushy eyebrows that gave his eyes an obvious bright look, Akpan seemed to have a lot of money to throw around and most times he slept in posh hotel rooms, but still maintained his squalid apartment in the countryside. John watched with gusto and envy how Akpan changed his girlfriends weekly like a woman changed wrappers. Before long, John discovered that Akpan was a member of a deadly drug cartel, Akpan looked embarrassed when John confronted him.
Akpan, what do you do for a living? John asked
Why do you ask me such a question? Akpan retorted obviously irritated.
You have no legal job yet you flaunt so much cash that can be seen only in movies, please, I'm your brother, carry me along.
Akpan smiled, it was a smile of awareness, a smile that depicted that he knew what was up and he was ready to let his friend into his secrets.
Sit down, he said with an air of authority.
John sat down and looked at Akpan.
Here in The UK, there are no jobs for us so when I came here some 3 years ago, I had to find something to do, so I met this guy they call Simmons, a half caste dude, his dad's Ghanaian and his mum is English, he was born here, had so much money, we had a brawl in a mall and before long, his men abducted me, he tortured me for a while but later claimed he saw a lot of potential in me, he said I had balls, so he introduced me to his cartel, the Simmons Sissys. Funny name right? He paused to ask.
Well, not quite funny, John replied.
That was how I got my first consignment of cocaine and heroine, he gave me a few kilograms to deliver to a big guy in The Bahamas, the job is quite risky but the pay is something to write home about.
So, how do I meet your man? John asked with cold obsidian eyes
We could go right away, Akpan answered.
Let's go then, John changed into a black sweatshirt in which the words Open Sesame were inscribed, he wore black trousers and donned a black face cap, he wanted to look as convincing as possible to the drug baron. Akpan beamed with smiles when he saw John's outfit and appeared to be pleased with it. They both stepped into his sleek Mercedes and drove to a place that could be passed for nondescript, the colours on the walls were faded and stained, broken bottles were abound everywhere and John could feel a cold shudder run down his spine, Akpan seemed to sure of himself and uninhibited, his steps were measured and John could tell he had rehearsed the gait routine until it was as familiar as a friend.
As they walked towards a sliding door, two fierce looking, sturdily built men stood in the doorway wielding rifles menacingly.
I come in peace, Akpan said raising both hands and John followed suit
One of the men mumbled something in between loosely sealed lips and gestured to John.
Oh, he comes in peace, Akpan said, his English losing its elegance and sounding like a faded lilt, it was then John observed that the man must be dumb, both men walked in after they had slid the door, more armed men were within, they looked ruthless and John could only imagine how many gruesome murders they must have carried out to enable their goods move from place to place.
A huge, swarthy man with lustrous beard sat at a golden table, on his head sat a black hat, he wore a blue Tuxedo and he raised his right leg on the table, his shoes were black and expensive, he held a thick pipe between his index finger and his middle finger, he looked handsome and opulent.
Akpan bowed before him and John did same
Welcome, Simmons said curtly eyeing John, John looked away.
Who is this? Simmons asked sharply
Lord Simmons, Akpan began, the young man here is a newbie to this country, he wants wealth and power and I thought you're the right man to put him through, John noticed the cadence of his voice, it was jittery, Akpan stood in awe of Simmons, John concluded.
Leave us, Simmons ordered everyone else except John.
Sit down, he ordered.
John sat down looking at Lord Simmons straight in the face.
Simmons cleared his voice and said in a deep voice that looked improvised.
You're a young man, full of ambition, it is good that you're old enough to make your choices, I'm not a man of many words but despite your obvious attempts to look tough and brave, your naivety is still very obvious, you want money, everyone wants money but I want you to know what you are about embarking on. Its a journey of no return, you'll have to sell your conscience to the god of money.
I'm ready Lord Simmons, John said with a firmness that he didn't know he possessed.
Simmons looked at him for a while and commanded him to follow him, John followed him and he led him through a very long passage to a door, which he opened with a key which he produced from his left pocket, the room smelled foul and it was pitch dark but John had lost all sense of trepidation at this point.
Lord Simmons put on the lights and John saw gaunt looking children and withered women weeping and gnashing their teeth, the floor was bloodstained, the sofa was soaked in blood and children skulls were littered in the room, he could feel a nudge from behind, when he turned, Lord Simmons was giving him a pistol.
Shoot that woman and her child, Lord Simmons ordered, motioning to a woman who wept quietly and cuddled her child across her breasts, her legs spread in front of her and her genitals merely concealed by some kind of threadbare clothing.
John took the pistol and looked at the woman, she kept on weeping alongside her child, it was a pitiable sight, but John wanted wealth and he was ready to cross any hurdle to get wealth, he pulled the trigger and shot both the mother and child without flinching
Lord Simmons smiled and said, now you've sold your soul to the god of money.

September, 2009 was a period John never forgot in his life since joining the cartel two years ago, he had been living well, committing crimes and eliminating perceived enemies and rivals. He even bought two cars, a Mercedes and a Bentley from the proceeds of his gory debauchery, back home, his father had given up on finding him again, he gave him up for dead, lost or in prison, he knew his son was a cheat, a fraudster, a liar, an incorrigible rogue, a boy who had brought him so much opprobrium in his younger days, but he also knew that his son's hooliganism was largely as a result of his inability to be a father when he ought to be one.
Simmons Sissys, the most wanted drug syndicate in The UK met their waterloo in September, 2009, they had struck a cannabis deal worth 10 billion dollars with a Mexican drug dealer, it was going to be their biggest haul ever and all hands were on deck to make the deal a success.
Hell was let loose in the cartel in the last week of August, some disgruntled and avaricious members decided that the sharing formula was unfair, this group was headed by Akpan who felt no less cheated than the others, they could no longer go on with the 25% of the proceeds going to Lord Simmons all the time while every other person got infinitesimal amounts at the end of the day. Lord Simmons promptly agreed but the schemer had other plans, on the 1st day of September, Akpan was hacked to death in his home, two days later, another protester, Zaccheus was shot to death on his way to Liverpool, a knife had been put into the cartel and the centre could no longer hold, things fell apart, through this rancour, information got to the NCA and a nationwide dragnet was set up to arrest members of the drug syndicate.
John was nervous and he made frantic efforts to leave The UK before he would be arrested, but while he made these efforts, fate thwarted them, he got a ghastly motor accident and he was rushed to a hospital, while he was in coma, he was identified as one of the wanted men of the wanted cartel, he was immediately placed under arrest and security operatives cordoned off the hospital.
Chief Richard Imonikebe heard of his son's arrest and possible incarceration, he felt sorry for him, he had failed as a father, he hadn't done his best, he deprived his children of good education and unconsciously introduced them to crime, he shook his head and wept.