Chapter 1 (Wide Awake)
Where do I start?
Somewhere that I remember.
It was night when I walked into the bathroom looking at the mirror. My clothes were stained red. I dropped the soiled kitchen knife I was holding into the sink to wash my hands. The cold water poured on my wrist, streaming red down the drain. I stared at the mirror; memories of the past hours haunted me. What had I done? The red was blood and it wasnt mine.
When I think about my sister Vanessa, I think about the better, smarter, feminine version of myself, her silvery voice, her spotless skin. She had a face like mine but softer and well-sculpted like a work of art that took the makers time.
We were born into an Igbo Christian home. She was my Dads favourite, the brilliant one, the one that brought home straight ‘As’, the one that made the family proud at our high school graduation, receiving almost all the Academic awards, my dad grinning and clapping more loudly than everyone in the crowd whenever she was called up on stage. The one destined to achieve great things according to my father. In college, she was married to her books and God. We were opposites in everything down to lifestyle choices. I won't describe myself as a ‘dummy.’ I just wasn't bothered about things at that time. I had to weasel my way into Lagos state university. I was the pig-headed one in the house and a party monster.
I remember being in a club in Badagry Lagos, that night my friends and I went out to have fun, the gyrating sound of Afro-pop music by Wizkid in the air, I could barely hear anything my best friend Chidi was saying, fumes oozing out of my mouth as I dropped the hose of the shisha pot down, resting my back on the couch we were seated on surrounded by familiar faces while the fumes drifted through the air. I opened my eyes, my sight all blurry; exhilarating is the word to describe the feeling at that point. I loved life.
The colourful clubs light shifted around to the girls dancing close to the bar; the lights moved and my eyes locked with a girl in a short blue dress, her long slender legs slowly swaying her body. I had seen her before in school a few times but we never talked. She held a half glass of whisky in her hand which she sipped every ten seconds. Her friends were going wild on the dance floor. It seemed she wanted to reserve her craziness at that time. I poured myself my third glass of vodka. Then I saw her seated quietly at the bar.
I stood up, going to approach her; each step I took felt like I was walking on air. Her hair was a curtain shielding her face,
‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’
She turned her attention to me.
‘Im Jeremiah,’ I introduced myself.
‘Christine.’ She smiled warmly as we shook hands.
‘I feel like I have seen you before somewhere. You look familiar.’
‘We are in the same department in school.’
‘Oh!’
She was right. I wasnt certain where in school we’d met. ‘So what brings you here to this part of town?’ I asked.
‘The same thing as you,’ she replied sharply.
‘Ok, and whats that?’ I laughed.
‘Hang out with friends, have fun. Everyone knows youre a party boy.’
‘Everyone! I didnt know I was that popular,’ I said.
‘Maybe to some,’ she said teasing.
‘ I see.’
The night was still young; we stared at each other for a sec.
‘Do you want to dance?’ I asked.
‘ Sure.’ She nodded.
We started slow, then I put my hands on her hips. Everything else was blurry. I remember us talking while we danced. We both had too much to drink and she returned to my apartment with me. We were tripping while trying to take our clothes off.
It was six am when I heard my door unbolt as someone walked out. Before she shut the door, I had a glimpse of her from behind. She held her shoes in one hand, her curtain of hair dishevelled. We were both high out of our minds when we had sex last night.
My parents thought that college would give me a sense of responsibility, purpose. That maybe being my own man would make me act more mature. College gave me the freedom to explore uncharted territories in my life, starting with drugs. I burned my cash through stimulants, depressants, and opioids. In the female territory, lets just say my addiction to sex equalled my addiction to drugs, I have awoken in bed with too many faces.
I had an anchor, my best friend Chidi. We were best friends from high school, he was my drug buddy too but hes what I call a ‘moderate man’. He was the brilliant one between the both of us. Educationally, Chidi kept both of us on our feet, something Vanessa my sister tried doing for years but never succeeded. Chidi was my balance.
Then my lifestyle began attracting dangerous attention towards me on campus, with the parties and ladies.
I didn't comprehend the danger I had attracted to myself with the latter when Christine and I kept screwing on multiple occasions until her boyfriend found out. At the time, I knew she had a boyfriend. I didn't know who he was but she said she was planning on breaking up with him.
February 8th 2016, an unforgettable night, at nine pm I was returning from a grocery store close to my apartment off-campus when I was ambushed on my street. A car parked across my compound, five brawny guys in black with red face caps circled me. I tried backing away but I was shoved from behind. I almost tripped.
‘Where you dey go?’
English translation: ‘Where are you going?’)
‘Another guy in front shoved me back again.
They were frat boys. They pushed me around, and I lost my hearing and balance when one of them stunned me with a slap to the face. They pulled a long plank from the car trunk tossing it between themselves.
I thought I was going to die.
The first strike that numbed me came from behind then everywhere. I was eating dust on the ground while they kept hitting me until I almost passed out.
A flashlight pointed at my eyes and a well-built figure squatted, snapping his fingers to my face to see if I was still conscious.
He turned the flashlight to his other hand revealing a silver ring on his middle finger with a bold ‘V’ crested on it, then he focused the light on his face.
‘You sabi who I be?’
(English translation: ‘Do you know who I am?’)
I managed to shake my head saying no. I had never seen him before. He was dark-skinned, tall with a full beard, a scar on one side of his eye.
‘E good say u no know because people way I dey show my face no dey see am two times.’
(English translation: Its good you don't know me because people that I show my face don't get to see it twice.)
‘You know Christine right? Has she told you about me, who I am, what I do?’
‘No.’ I shook my head. My body was trembling.
‘Now you know, this is just greeting. I had something else planned to do to you, but I am in a good mood. If I see you with her again next time ’ They stumped me in the face, lights out for me.
I woke up in hospital. My sister was seated beside me leaning against the bed resting. An IV tube was inserted in the back of my left hand, both my arms bandaged to the wrist. I tried reaching for Vanessa, but I couldn't lift my arm. A sharp pain travelled through my body.
My groan awoke her.
‘Hey! Are you okay?’ A thankful reassuring smile spread across her face; she must have been here with me for hours.
‘Yeah, but I can't move my arms.’
‘Don't push yourself. Youre bruised all over.’
I could hear the quaver in her voice; she was scared of seeing me like this.
‘The doctor said you'd be fine with time and you're lucky your injuries are not very severe.’
Someone walked in and shut the door. It was Chidi.
‘Hey bro, how are you feeling?’
The expression of worry was all over his face; I could see it.
‘Guy, I am in pain. How long have I been here?’ I asked.
‘Since last night. Me and your landlord found you on the ground outside the compound. We brought you here.’
‘What happened? Who did this to you?’ Vanessa asked.
I was attacked on my way back,’ I said.
‘Who by?’
‘Frat boys. They ambushed me.’
‘Why? Do you know them?’
‘No.’ I couldn't tell her what had happened. ‘ Mom and Dad, do they know?’ I asked.
‘Yes, I told them this morning.’
‘Oh, Jesus!’ I murmured.
‘What was I supposed to do, not tell them?’ she asked defensively.
I wished my sister hadnt told them, especially my Dad. He might just jump to conclusions, saying its my fault, why did I go out at that time? And that I brought this on myself with the company I keep.
After I was discharged, I was back in my apartment. My sister stayed over for some days to look after me; there was a lot I couldn't do for myself.
I had a lot of visitors, friends, neighbours, mates, even my landlord. The story about what happened to me had spread.
Christine also got news about what happened and wanted to come to visit but I told her not to. After telling her the true tale, I broke it off with her. She's fun to be with but not worth dying for.
I remember a conversation I had with one of my next-door neighbours, Teddy. When he visited, he suggested I retaliate. I was still nursing my wounds at that time.
‘Bro e get people wey I know wey go help you tidy this matter, you no suppose let people fuck you up like this go free,’ Teddy said
(English translation: ‘Bro, there are some people I know that can help you fix this. You shouldn't allow anyone do this to you and go free.’)
On campus, we had three most dangerous, notorious confraternities, the Kings, the Axe, the Viktors.
As history would have it, the idea of ‘confraternities’ in Nigeria started in the 1950s by seven friends that called themselves the ‘Magnificent Seven,’ under the first fraternity known as the ‘the trans.’ Amongst them was the famous Nigerian Nobel laureate Professor Wole Soyinka, a man who took an active role in the struggle for Nigeria's independence from Great Britain. The Pyrates was a nonviolent group that started with good ideologies, their activities were the fight for human rights and social justice, combating tribalism and elitist pretences, but as decades went by different factions were created and those ideologies changed. Confraternities had spread from the universities into the streets with their activities linked to organised crime, murder, sexual assault, assassinations ordered by politicians to intimidate or eliminate their opponents.
The Viktors were the ones that jumped me. I didn't know until Teddy told me when I described Christine's boyfriend to him with the ring he wore. Teddy was a member of another rival frat but he’s a secretive type. He's careful not to bring danger home. He'd been urging me to join so I could have protection. With my lifestyle, flying solo shouldn't be an option. Some people just want to intimidate others, but I knew if I joined I would have to spend the rest of my college life looking over my shoulder and that's not something I wanted.
February 19th, the first day I sat down and thought about ‘God’ on my own. At home every morning we held worship services by five am, a torment which I habituated with time. The only part I usually remembered was the last ‘Amen’ we always said together in unison after I slept throughout the prayers.
My mum was someone I would describe as a strong dedicated woman of God. She never missed Wednesday and Friday evening service, nor church on Sunday which was compulsory for everyone in the family. I always went with them to church, but I can't recall ever sitting down and listening to any sermon either. I was lost in my thoughts whenever I was present physically or I was outside the premises hanging out till the exact time the church dismissed. I also remembered splitting the offering money my parents gave me 50/50 with God when I was little, most times leaving nothing for the offering box. I always promised to pay it back but I never did. My mum was able to teach my sister but for me, it was like I had immunity against doing the right thing.
After the attack, the way I saw things was different, how fleeting life was. I mean it could have been worse; I could have been killed.
Vanessa and my Mum were able to convince me to go to church and say thank you to God. Then the preacher got to me. I started attending on my own, choosing to change my lifestyle.
Next thing I knew, I was standing amongst people who wanted to be born again, the happiest moments of my mothers life. It was like I lost my mind and something else came over me; I never guessed it would be the dawn of my pain.
Eleven pm March 26, 2016, the pastors driver, Femi, dropped us at a route we usually walk through to get to our apartment like he he’s been doing for weeks now.
I was fully committed to the born-again church attendance thing, I had already started dropping some of my old dead weight addictions with drugs and liquor; it helped me save money for better things. I won't pretend stopping was magical either, but I believed I could hold my ground at the time. My sister loved the new me even more than I did.
‘I saw you tonight you know, the way you were singing during praise and worship like you were really in the spirit,’ Vanessa said cheerfully while we walked. All the convenience stores and shops in the area were closed, though it wasn't grimly dark thanks to the little constant electricity supply for the past 24hours.
‘Me, singing? it's not me you saw. I don't sing. I just come to church, sit, stand, wait for some hours and leave, you know my way.’ I didn't want my sister to feel I had drank the whole born again cool-aid. In truth, I was singing though; it felt refreshing in a way that staying silent didn’t.
‘Are you saying Im blind? I was sitting at the choir section. You were singing like Wizkid just released a new song and you've crammed it. You were loud. I almost concluded that you smoked before coming to church or maybe...’
‘Or maybe what?’ I grumbled
‘You were trying to impress that girl sitting beside you, she teased.
The girl she was talking about was her friend, the Pastor's daughter, I couldn’t remember her name; I think it started with a ‘c’ Caroline or something.
I laughed ‘Seriously, you think I wanted to impress your friend?’
‘I mean, I won't be surprised if that was your intention,’ she muttered.
‘Look, if I wanted to do your friend, the old me would have already,’ I replied confidently.
‘What do you mean by doing my friend?’
‘ You know what I mean.’
‘You're still dirty-minded but I tell you Caroline is not that easy.’
We were just a few kilometres away from our place while we talked. A vehicle emerged from behind shining its headlight. We shifted to a corner to let it pass but it didnt. It stopped the moment we did. No one came out. We stood there for a few seconds and then kept walking. Maybe the person inside was waiting for someone, I thought. We were a few feet away from the car when it started approaching again but this time slowly like it was following us.
I knew something didn't seem right, I mean it's Lagos, one has to be careful.
I don't like this, let's walk faster,’ Vanessa said. She also had the same feeling.
We quickened our pace. The vehicle kept following. Bad things happen at odd hours like this, kidnappers, ritualists moving around looking for victims to use for their devilish cause.
The car didn't stop. My sister and I started to run. It chased after us till we bumped into another one in front, a black bus. A group of boys, six of them, in black stepped out of the car with rifles. I knew we were in danger. The car behind caught up with us, another four stepped out with guns. We were surrounded. They had the same red face caps just like the frat boys that jumped me before, the Viktors. I quickly pulled Vanessa close to me as they closed in on us. They tried pulling her away from me. Vanessa screamed, I got struck from behind, the back of my head, and I was out.
Please God not this again, not with my sister. Half conscious, it was the only thought in my head. A small red light above my head gave me a glimpse of where I was - in the trunk of a moving car.
The car stopped. I heard gates creaking.
They opened the trunk, a flashlight on my face. They dragged me out of the car by the shirt and threw me to the ground.
Vanessa, what did they do to her? Where did they take her? She was all I worried about.
‘Where's my brother? Please let us go.’
I heard Vanessa's voice before they brought her out of the bus. I quickly got to my feet
The place was an uncompleted storey building., Vanessa saw me and tried to run to me. They dragged her back. One of them took out duct tape and bound her hands while she cried, screaming my name. I knew she was scared. They put a black cloth over our heads and took us into the building at gunpoint.
‘Please just take whatever you want and go,’ Vanessa begged.
‘Shut up and keep moving or I swear to God I go shoot you for head’
(English translation: ‘Shut up and keep moving or I swear to God I'll shoot you in the head.’)
The guy behind us growled.
‘Vanessa, just do whatever they say okay.’ I knew she was scared, but she had to be quiet before they lost their minds and did something worse.
They led us into a room then forced us to kneel.
They took off our blindfolds. A bright light struck my eyes coming from a standing lamp centred on our faces.
‘This nigga again, guy e be like say life dey follow you.’
The voice was familiar; it was Christine's boyfriend. He walked in between the light and squatted looking at both of us. He said he'd be watching me before, but I hadn't done anything with Christine. I broke it off,
‘Who's she?’ he asked moving closer to Vanessa. She was trembling, in tears.
‘That's his sister, the one I told you about. She's my course mate,’ one of the guys behind said. I saw his face. From the look of it, Christine's boyfriend was their leader.
‘Please bro, I beg you, let my sister go, she has nothing to do with this,’ I begged. They laughed at me.
Razor, where did you find them?’ Christine's boyfriend asked.
‘We didn't do much of searching, they were just available P1.’ Razor said. Point one - the term cult groups used to identify their leaders. I was right. Christine’s boyfriend was definitely the one in charge.
They must have been targeting us to even know who Vanessa was to me.
‘Fuck boy, that's the name given to you on campus, you're very popular for putting your meat in anything that looks like a skirt, which naturally is not a bad thing but with Christine, you crossed a line.’ Christine's boyfriend said.
‘I didn't know she was with you, I did as you asked, I don't talk to her anymore. Please let my sister go.’
‘Look, tonight is an important night for me and my guys. You being here right now is not of my own making, my guys went to make a random selection of people and it just turns out to be both of you, fate brought us together,’ he replied with a smug smile.
‘P1, you said you only needed a girl for the grand rite. We could dispose of him now if you want.’ Razor suggested.
They planned on using a female as a rite of passage for their initiation process. I often heard stories concerning grand passage rites of different confraternities on campus, they do monstrous things. At that moment, I swore to myself I wouldn't let anyone touch Vanessa, even if it was with my last breath.
‘Not yet. I think I have something better in mind, bring them to the hall,’ he answered. I knew whatever he had in mind was no good.
They forced us up. Following their leader, we left the room into a larger hall where six boys knelt bare-bodied and blindfolded. They were recruits ready for initiation.
At the centre of the room was a small gas cooker with a metal forge placed on top to heat.
The hall was eerily decorated with torches at opposite ends of the room.
They made us sit on the ground again. I found myself looking at a small shrine with a small wooden ugly looking figurine with a long head, that would be the deity they worshipped.
Cult groups are known to be involved in rituals.
The leader picked up the forge from the gas, the mouth of the iron with a red-hot brand of the symbol(V), steeping it briefly into water.
He walked to each of the boys, knelt, and pressed the metal at their backs leaving a burning brand. The other members immediately took the blindfolds off the recruits.
Christine's boyfriend took off his shirt and sat meditatively in front of them, around his neck was a traditional necklace with a pocket knife as its locket. He took it off his neck, placing it on his palm. One of the members picked it up, slit his thumbs, and rubbed his blood on the leader's forehead and all the other members present did the same.
The leader cut his thumb and branded his blood on the foreheads of the recruits.
‘My newly reborn brothers, my comrades, for all of us to be present together at this moment is nothing short of a blessing,’ he announced. ‘You people are the selected few after rigorous tests which would have been impossible to pass for people without strength, strong will, and resilience. I'm sure by now you must be wondering what's with the whole blood ritual initiation thing. It's for our protection from harm.’
Christine's boyfriend demanded a gun taking the pistol Razor offered him. He pointed the nozzle to his left palm while the members watched. A deafening bang escaped the gun when he shot himself as a demonstration. His face twisted into a smile as the noise died, the bullet slid down his palm, and he was unharmed. It was unreal.
I had never witnessed juju power. The recruits stared at him in awe. Vanessa briefly looked at me, terror in her eyes. I wished God in his way would intervene and lead the police to this place, but I also knew how low the chances were; our security system has always been unreliable.
‘You all have your reasons for being here, for protection, power, financial security. We've been described in many terms over the years mainly as a cult but I want you to get that idea out of your head. This is not a cult. This is an organization with the sole purpose of generating societal change and bending it to our benefit.’ He droned on. ‘Our influence isn't limited here on campus, it stretches into the government and to the peak of politics itself. The benefits your membership provides you, you get nowhere else - a secured future.
‘You've now been exhaled from the shallow lives you once lived into a life of a Viktor. As you stand with me, I will make you invincible. You all came here to be able to face your demons; stand with me and you will be above them but to do that you have to renew the right spirit within you by letting go the old one.’
He walked over to Vanessa, squatted in front of her, raising her face to his.
‘What's your name?’ he asked her.
‘Vanessa. Please let us go.’ Her voice stuttered, she pleaded again.
‘Babe, you've been graced with the rarest of opportunities. Don't be afraid. All you're going to do is to unite and sanctify us with your warm bosom as the grand rite for this ceremony.’
I knew they had intentions of raping my sister from that comment, all of these because of what? I had sex with a girl I didn't know had a frat boy for a boyfriend.
It was a hall of at least twenty six boys, their attention all focused on the leader. I slowly slid my hands into my jean pocket, pulling out a pen. I knew it was completely futile to count as a weapon but I'd die before I let anyone touch her.
‘Please I don't understand what you mean.’ Vanessa whimpered. I was getting angry. I could feel my blood boil at the idea.
The leader caressed her face then forcefully pulled her by the hair, dragging her away as she screamed.
‘Leave her alone. Don't you dare touch her,’ I yelled, my emotions got the better of me. I charged into him, but the other members got me first, pinning me to the ground chest down, the pen dropped during the struggle.
‘Hold him down. I want him to watch.’
A smug smile leered from the leaders face.
They tried to force Vanessa, the leader violently ripped her shirt, the button loosely falling off.
‘Don't worry fuck boy, it's nothing personal. Besides you screwed my babe. At least now you can consider us square after we're done with your sister.’
Vanessa was already screaming at the top of her lungs while the imbecile tried forcing himself on her.
It has been said anger gets things done; I don't know where the strength fuelled by my rage came from, I managed to break loose, overpowering the members holding me down, about six of them at that time. I charged into him breaking him off my sister. Before I could get back on my feet, I got held again by the members. I tussled to break free as a man possessed but to no avail, they held me good this time.
The leader left my sister, furiously approached me pulling the necklace with a knife from his neck. I knew what was going to happen
I struggled with the pain while he opened my throat. As I helplessly bled out, he brought the wooden figurine and kept it in front of me.
‘Eshu mo fe dedicate iku yi fun e,’ (Yoruba)
(English translation: ‘Eshu, I dedicate this death unto you’)
He said this as if in prayer, and I thought to myself shit! Is this how I'll die?
I could hear Vanessa's piercing screams. They didn't let go till I faded.
