Father

A Journalist’s Dangerous Pursuit

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A Journalist's Dangerous Pursuit

Amanda’s heart raced as she stepped into the dimly lit bar on Okeyilo Street in Shandam, Kaduna, a street renowned for housing dangerous criminals. The pungent smell of cigarettes and cheap liquor assaulted her senses, but she steeled herself. This was it—the breakthrough she’d been waiting for in her investigation of the notorious Ben Edet. Amanda had been tracking Ben’s activities as an investigative journalist for months. Rumoured to be a ruthless kidnapper and drug kingpin, Ben had recently made headlines by allegedly abducting the State governor’s son for a staggering 50 million naira ransom and has threatened to kidnap the first lady next if his demands were not met. With her wedding drawing close, Amanda was determined to crack the case, expose the truth and be back on time to get married. The bar’s patrons eyed her suspiciously as she ordered a beer, trying her best to blend in. It wasn’t until later that evening that Amanda realised her mistake—her conservative attire stood out like a sore thumb among the scantily clad women who frequented the establishment. Despite her initial setback, her persistence paid off. She learned two crucial pieces of information: Ben’s real name was Dogo Sylvester, and he had a weakness for women. Armed with this knowledge, Amanda knew what she had to do. She called her editor to give him the update and he simply told her to do what she has to do to get him the story. She would have to turn in her report to the state CID as well but, her newspaper house needs it firsthand. With a heavy heart, she called her fiancé, Jason, to explain her next move. “I have to go undercover,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s the only way to get close to him.” Jason’s concern was palpable. “Be careful,” he pleaded. “Don’t let him touch you.” Amanda’s transformation into “Sandra,” a down-on-her-luck prostitute, was swift and convincing. She rented a room in a nearby brothel and immersed herself in the seedy underworld of Shandam’s red-light district. She had to blend in so they could trust her as one of them, she needed to get into Ben’s life by all means. Her act was so convincing that she soon caught Ben’s eye. On the night she was brought to him, she couldn’t believe her luck as she sat face-to-face with him. She forgot all about the report and was so scared for her life. He smiled at her and asked her to sit on the bed. He took in puff after puff of weed which he offered her but she refused. She thought of what to do but her mind was so dumb. She was still thinking of the next thing to say when he spoke. “So tell me about yourself, you see all the girls for your cabal I know them, all of them sweet- sweet girls but I’ve never seen you, so I want to know you.” Amanda broke down in tears as she told her story of woes, how she lost her parents and her uncle who was supposed to take care of her took away the properties of her father and left her to suffer. She had no other option than to do this dirty job to get money. She was surprised at her theatrical display and wondered where the story even came from. He looked at her strangely as she narrated her ordeals and what pushed her into this kind of life. He looked as though he knew she was lying but he said nothing. He kept looking at her and puffing his weed. “Come,” he said eventually. She walked up to him in her tank top and shorts praying he wouldn’t try to manhandle her. She was so defenceless except for the pepper spray she managed to tuck inside her bra. He sat her down on his lap looking deep into her eyes and spraying the smoke from the weed into her face. She held her breath as he did that wishing she could strangle him already. “I like you, I won’t hurt you as your uncle did and I can even help you kill him if you want.” Amanda’s stomach churned at his casual offer of murder, but she saw an opportunity, the possible way of making him talk about his escapades and confess to the various crimes attached to his name, she gave a sinister smile and hugged him then whispered into his ears. “I would love that!” Over the next week, Ben became infatuated with Amanda. She played her role to perfection, carefully extracting information while maintaining her cover. With each passing day, she gathered more evidence of his crimes, but she knew she needed a confession. On the night of reckoning, Amanda prepared herself for the most dangerous part of her mission. She set up hidden cameras and recorders, then invited Ben to her room. As they shared a bottle of wine—which she had laced with a mild sedative—Ben began to open up. His story was one of tragedy and pain. His father would come home drunk each night to beat him, his mother, and his younger sister. He hated his father. Each day brews new hatred for his useless father and all he wanted was to take care of his mum and sister but that never happened for his father killed his mum one day during their fights. His father was drunk as usual and everyone blamed it on the alcohol but Ben didn’t and the judge too didn’t and sentenced him to life imprisonment. His kid sister was assaulted by government officials who raked down their kiosk by the roadside alongside others calling it illegal. She fell sick after the manhandling and died weeks later. That incident changed him a lot and he took this path. He had no regrets as he looked at Amanda. He would avenge his sister and mother but first, he is starting with the State governor … Read more

Apocalypse: My Father’s House

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Apocalypse My Father's House

In loving memory of Thomas Deventis; a father and a brother. The plain words were all I could focus on as the burial ceremony came to an end and the guests began to file out to their houses. It was almost unbelievable that he was gone- I would not have believed any of the drama unfolding before my eyes if I had not been present the very moment he was lowered into the casket. Behind me, I could feel my mother’s gaze penetrating the deepest core of my soul- almost as if she could taste my jumbled mind.

Out of all the turns I could have imagined my life to take after my father’s death, this phase that I was living was definitely not an option. Two months after his death, I could still not understand why the lawyer will insist it was not yet time for his will to be read. This, as a result of the deceased’s order. How my mother, who, for some years now had been separated from my father, believed she definitely had a price to her name in the will and had refused to grant me peace till it was the supposed time was definitely a big hassle to my sanity- at least that was what I thought …

As I descended from the plane, I caught sight of Mr Marco in his regular black uniform, leaning against the car. I was happy to be back after being away for a whole week on an assignment to discuss some proposals about my father’s company. I switched on my phone and was immediately met with a beep sound after settling in the car for the ride to the company.

“Your meeting with the Antonio Groups has been scheduled for 10:00 a.m. at the mansion” The text from my assistant simply stated. However, the fourteen words seemed technical to dissect. In my four months of working in my father’s company, I never heard of any Antonio Groups and the reason the meeting was at the mansion was beyond me.

“We should head home first” I said to Mr Marco, who from the rearview mirror appeared confused for a second but decided to not make a comment about the change of direction. As I watched him mask his confusion, I contemplated asking if he knew anything about the Antonio Groups since he had worked for my family for almost thirty years. On a second thought, what could he know, he was just a driver after all.

I was met at the door by my assistant who with a pad in one hand, held the door open for me with the other.

“We should head to your father’s study right away” he said right after the exchange of greetings. “Mr Antonio had a little delay on the way and should be here soon” Our attention was drawn to the opening and closing of the entrance door, followed by exchange of pleasantries between the person who entered and Maria, our housekeeper. My interest picked as I watched Maria relates friendly with the strange men. One of them patted her back in greeting; further confirming my assumption- the men must have been here a number of times.

“Oh! There you are, Carmen. How do you do?” The older of the two men said, moving towards me with a smile. “Meet my son, Ace.” He continued before my initial confusion could wear off. Now that they were both close to where I stood, their features were indeed similar. Just as I was about to open my mouth, my assistant beat me to it.

“You are welcome, Mr Antonio” at least now, I had a name to the face.
“It’s been a while, Shane. How have you been?” Mr Antonio replied. I let my eyes wandered past his shoulder as I watched his son check out the living room before turning and leading the way to the study.

Later that evening, I felt numb sitting on my bed replaying the day’s events. “I would leave you to it and ask Marco to let me know when we can set up another meeting with the other members” those were his last words before Mr Antonio and his son left the mansion that morning.

“If I get you correctly, there are certain files I need to go through to get the concept behind what is going on. Right?” I said to Mr Marco, who currently stood across me. “And you cannot direct me to where they are? I probed further. After the discussion with Mr Antonio yesterday, I was restless and needed answers to this madness as soon as possible.

I had summoned Mr Marco to get more insight since his name was mentioned yesterday, but seeing as the discussion went, there was no easy way out of this.

“Carmen, lunch is served” I heard Maria say from outside my father’s room. “Alright, I will be there soon” I replied absent-mindedly. It’s been six hours of me turning things over in search of some files I didn’t know of their existence. I had started with the study room, seeing as it was only logical to assume all paper works were kept there. The guest rooms had been searched one after the other, followed by the bar and gym. “What if there were no such files in this house?” I wondered aloud heading to the dining room until my eyes caught sight of the one door I grew up to find locked all year round.

The room was said to have belonged to my aunt who died from cancer while I was still very young. I’ve been told stories of how strong she was till her last day. My father had kept the room locked to preserve her belongings and memories after her death. The only time I had seen the door opened was when I returned from college one day and found my father and Maria exiting the room. As the housekeeper, Maria had been there to clean the room and my father had stayed back to watch her do it. My happiness of finally being home overpowered my curiosity and so I didn’t pay attention to it.

My legs moved towards the door and as expected, it was locked. Now that my father was dead and had the chance to reconnect with his sister, he had no need to hold on to mere possessions in her memory anymore. So, I ran out and got some tools to get the door open. It appeared to be a distraction from my initial quest but that could definitely wait. After several pushes and pulls, the door flung open, only it wasn’t a lady’s room but a room with shelves full of files. I sank to the floor the same time the hammer in my hand made a thud sound.

It’s been four days I discovered the room and went through different sections of files. Finding out about the room was one issue, realizing that every single person in this mansion was engaged in a business with my father was another. I remembered once when I asked my father how the domestic staff could dedicate so many years of their lives to working for us and why he felt we needed that large number of people to keep this house running, he had said it was for the best and they were not complaining. This could be the reason I was never around for long. If I was not in a boarding school, I was on vacation.

The Deventis Incorporation had only been a front for him. The real channel was not known to the world- not even me, Carmen Deventis. Like my father, his partners had a company to their names; the same way there was Antonio Groups. Right now, I could not care about showing up at the company. What I needed was a chat with Mr Marco.

“Good morning, Mr Marco, or should I say Mr Marco Jones?” I greeted sassily. If he was any surprised by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. “So, can we talk now?” I quickly added and headed into the house before he could give his response. I try not to look back, as I hear footsteps follow me to the door, knowing fully well I didn’t give him any other option.

“I would suggest we wait for a while as others are heading here for a meeting” came his response. “Really?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I am beyond shock at how much of an outcast I have been in my father’s house for the past years and even after his death” I said as I massaged my forehead in anticipation of the headache building up. “I would be in my room till then”.
The chatter and greetings downstairs was enough to drag me out of my thoughts. A quick glance at the clock indicated it had not been more than forty-six minutes I came up here to wait for the next puzzle to be unraveled. Deciding to get this behind me, I made for the stairs and soon discovered the “guests” were now in the study. Walking in like a deer caught in headlights, I muttered my greeting and made my way to the available seat.

As they all took turn to express their condolences over my father’s death, then welcoming me back home, and giving a brief summary of what they were in the house for, the only thing that stuck to my head was the word ‘drug’- the part I wanted the discussion to get to. Thirty minutes later, one of the men who I believed was addressed as Mr Rivera finally went into details of how the business had been on hold for two months in honour of my late father. And now that they were here, they would like to get things back in motion.

“Marco, I believe you’ve confirmed the available stuff yesterday, right?” Mr Blackwood directed to Mr Marco who nodded his head. My confusion must have been evident on my face because the next thing I heard was me being addressed by Mr Blackwood himself. “You should come with us, Carmen. You will understand better that way”.

I remained seated and allowed everyone to file out in hopes of getting a change of outfit before joining them. However, they were headed to the same room I had been in days ago when I exited the study. I had just closed the door behind me when one of the men punched in some numbers and a part of the floor opened up and made a pathway beneath the room. All these years, I had believed this was just another random room in my father’s house.

I followed them down the stairs as they chattered like they were walking into a regular bar. Unexpectedly, the underground was well lit, and adequately furnished. I soon found out this was not just a room underneath the ground; it was a labyrinth. As I passively followed whoever was in sight around the different rooms, I started to see some of the ‘supposed’ domestic staff at different stations. They were there in production, packaging, logistics and others. This was not just a storehouse; the whole process took place there.

I soon saw a closed door with the tag DEVENTIS T.O. on it. Despite my shaky hands, I continued to rummage through the different files in the office until a paper slipped out of a particular one with my name on it. Maybe this could provide an answer.

READ ALSO: A Detective Story

Dearest Carmen,
If you are here, I could only imagine what the past days had been for you.
You should know that all I wanted for you was the best. You will find most of the answers here.
Love,
Your father.
…and at that point, it dawned on me that this was a lion’s den, not my father’s house.

 

Resilience and Healing

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I’m the mistake of my father, The naivety of my mother, The exuberance of teen age that yielded fruit; A seed planted in a soil not ready to hold a root. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m not the mistake of my father, The willingness of my mother, From a matrimonial bed, I am the fruit; A seed that sprouted from good soil to hold its root. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m the victim of abandonment; at birth, they left, Tales like Cain and Abel, my world melted. Death was a thief; my father died, my father became a wanderer, Two worlds in the same scene; in its shadow, I became a sojourner. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience.   Starting from the constant reprimand of my father’s mistakes, A bond from the connection of ruthlessness breaks. I’m depressed from his demise without goodbye, Watching the glitter of the sparse stars, hoping he comes by. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m searching for healing, Resilient in my quest to be saved. Hold me closer, my soul in quest of peace. Daddy, Mummy, when will it seize.