Mike and Ken were born two hours apart.
Their parents were neighbours and friends. Not like they had much of a choice. Circumstances and living in the barracks at 16 Opolo brought them together.
Naturally, their sons grew up together.
Like most other children in Diobu, they learnt early to survive. Since their parents lived on the verge of broke most of the time, they had little choice in the matter.
Both managed to finish secondary school.
Mike desired one thing: go to school, earn a degree and land a well-paying job. His father, an office assistant with a private firm drummed the value of an education into his head.
Ken wanted nothing more than to break the shackles of poverty that held him. He did not have time to go to school and all that balderdash.
He befriended some dudes in the next street and they showed him how to work gullible foreigners and get paid in the process. They also taught him that the natural mind is not enough, it needed to be boosted with stimulants.
Within two years, he was being addressed as Don Ken. He spent money without a care. Poverty had to be shown who was the boss.
Then he realized that depressants had an altogether different effect. A little later, his girlfriend introduced him to hallucinogens. And drug use became a habit and then an addiction.
The government chose that time to tighten the noose around fraudulent activities. EFCC was given that mandate. The commission was not smiling.
All of a sudden, Ken realized that in six years he had not a tidy sum saved.
But it was not an issue. Some oyinbo would pay.
Unfortunately they refused to.
In six months, the don was no longer getting nods from those who used to hail him. To make matters worse, it was a lot more difficult to afford the substances that helped him function.
Desperate situations provoke desperate measures. Ken realized that folks returning from the airport usually had something to offer. He and his boys began to help themselves to the largesse.
Mike went to drop his fiancee off at the airport. He was driving back when he ran into uniformed men at a checkpoint. One officer flagged him down.
He wound down to know what was required of him.
The muzzle of the gun pointed at him showed him this was no regular check.
He had no money. The guy did not want to hear that nonsense.
At his core, Mike was still street. He challenged the assailant. It was a mistake. The guy let off a shot. It hit Mike in the neck.
The leader of the gang swirled.
What tha???
"Are you crazy?" He screamed.
He came over. And saw who was shot...
"Mike?"
"Ken?"
Shots rang out in rapid succession.
Ken fell by the car, clutching his chest. His lieutenant was dead before he hit the ground.
Anti-robbery Policemen materialized from the surrounding bush, guns smoking.
Their parents were neighbours and friends. Not like they had much of a choice. Circumstances and living in the barracks at 16 Opolo brought them together.
Naturally, their sons grew up together.
Like most other children in Diobu, they learnt early to survive. Since their parents lived on the verge of broke most of the time, they had little choice in the matter.
Both managed to finish secondary school.
Mike desired one thing: go to school, earn a degree and land a well-paying job. His father, an office assistant with a private firm drummed the value of an education into his head.
Ken wanted nothing more than to break the shackles of poverty that held him. He did not have time to go to school and all that balderdash.
He befriended some dudes in the next street and they showed him how to work gullible foreigners and get paid in the process. They also taught him that the natural mind is not enough, it needed to be boosted with stimulants.
Within two years, he was being addressed as Don Ken. He spent money without a care. Poverty had to be shown who was the boss.
Then he realized that depressants had an altogether different effect. A little later, his girlfriend introduced him to hallucinogens. And drug use became a habit and then an addiction.
The government chose that time to tighten the noose around fraudulent activities. EFCC was given that mandate. The commission was not smiling.
All of a sudden, Ken realized that in six years he had not a tidy sum saved.
But it was not an issue. Some oyinbo would pay.
Unfortunately they refused to.
In six months, the don was no longer getting nods from those who used to hail him. To make matters worse, it was a lot more difficult to afford the substances that helped him function.
Desperate situations provoke desperate measures. Ken realized that folks returning from the airport usually had something to offer. He and his boys began to help themselves to the largesse.
Mike went to drop his fiancee off at the airport. He was driving back when he ran into uniformed men at a checkpoint. One officer flagged him down.
He wound down to know what was required of him.
The muzzle of the gun pointed at him showed him this was no regular check.
He had no money. The guy did not want to hear that nonsense.
At his core, Mike was still street. He challenged the assailant. It was a mistake. The guy let off a shot. It hit Mike in the neck.
The leader of the gang swirled.
What tha???
"Are you crazy?" He screamed.
He came over. And saw who was shot...
"Mike?"
"Ken?"
Shots rang out in rapid succession.
Ken fell by the car, clutching his chest. His lieutenant was dead before he hit the ground.
Anti-robbery Policemen materialized from the surrounding bush, guns smoking.
Photo credit: shutterstock.com
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