The Millionaire Ex-Convict

By Uchendi Nwani

The Millionaire Ex-Convict tells how one ex-convict changed his life, became a millionaire and how you can too. Inside, you'll discover the surprising answers to questions such as....
What success factors made him a millionaire?
How and why he changed his life?
What he did while in prison?
What he did when he was released from prison?
How he prepared himself for the free world?
How he found his ideal vocation to make money?
What obstacles he faced and how he overcame them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: True Vine Publishing Inspire, Empower, Produce
• Release date: May 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301798629

Book preview

The Millionaire Exconvict

is published by:

International Barber & Style College

3744 Annex Avenue Suite A 2

Nashville, TN 37209

1-615-354-0166

Copyright, 2005 by Uchendi Nwani. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. For information, please write to the address above.

Published by True Vine Publishing Company at Smashwords

For speaking engagements, books, dvds or coaching-

For The 29 Day Author System-how you can self publish your book in less than 29 days:

E-mail: [e-mail]

Web Site: www.1chin.com

ISBN # 0-9657901-3-4

Library of Congress Card # 00-191633

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Cocaine is my Name

Chp. 1: Never Give Up

Chp. 2: Growing Up In Nashville

Chp. 3: Living With My Grandparents

Chp. 4: The Preacher’s Son

Chp. 5: School Days

Chp. 6: Stealing

Chp. 7: Jr. High

Chp. 8: High School Days

Chp. 9: Senior Year

Chp. 10: Negative Influences

Chp. 11: A Life Of Crime

Chp. 12: A Life Out of Control

Chp. 13: Prison

Chp. 14: Federal Government Takes Case

Chp. 15: Getting Ready For Boot Camp

Chp. 16: A New Beginning

Chp. 17: Keys To Reach Your Dreams And Goals

Chp. 18: How I Became A Millionaire

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my mother, Judyth J. Jones, who never gave up on me. Your love and prayers kept me going.

Chin has a message of hope and power that can inspire millions. He will change the world. This is a must read book! Joe L. Dudley-President & CEO of Dudley Products, Inc.

The Uchendi Chin Nwani Story

For speaking engagements, books or dvds: log onto

www.1chin.com or email [e-mail]

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

By Uchendi Chin Nwani

There are so many people who are a part of my story and who need to be recognized. I would like to express my gratitude to all of them. First of all, I thank God for having mercy on me and giving me another chance. The fact that I’m neither dead nor still in prison is only by the grace of God. God has put some very important people in my life.

To the Honorable Thomas A. Wiseman Jr., thanks for giving me a second chance at life. To Hattie Burns, thanks for giving me a job. To Mrs. Velma Demonbreun, thanks for helping me with my school and everything else.

I would like to thank all of the great people who continue to help young people like myself. Your job is done because I am one young person whose life you have made a difference in. I owe a special gratitude to my public defender attorney, Ann Davis. Most of all, I thank my mother and father who never gave up on me. Even when I gave up on myself they kept praying for me. To all the people who doubted me (player haters) and said I wouldn’t change. To all the people who prayed and gave me a second chance. To all the people who accepted me for who I am and did not judge me on my past. To all the people who have helped me in life, thank you.

FOREWORD

In this book I will take you, the reader, with me into the secret inner world of a drug dealer. I will reveal my life and thoughts as a drug dealer. This drug game is very serious and the devil will trick you. I will reveal the trials, tribulations, pains and consequences of a drug dealer. I will reveal why I sold drugs and why I came to Christ. I was brought up in a good Christian loving home. My father was a respected minister and my mother was a respected schoolteacher, but I strayed away from my perfect upbringing like the prodigal son. If one young man, woman and child can be saved from the hell that I caused my family, my living will not be in vain.

I regret that it is impossible to tell you all of my experiences as a drug dealer. Unfortunately, it would require thousands of pages and it would be unfit and too explicit to read. In fact, they would probably put me under the jail.

Perhaps the remorse for my past life will diminish. This book has allowed me to purge myself and help change the world so you don’t have to experience the pain of a torn down family and life. Most of all, I want the younger generation to change their lives. I changed my life and so can you. It is never too late. I am a Born Again Christian.

I will always remember learning the phrase in school, just say no. It is a phrase that teachers and parents drill into our heads when we are faced against something that is not good for us, such as drugs, alcohol and sex. Most young people do the total opposite which is why our lives are met with destruction and disappointment. When we don’t say no, the consequences can be detrimental. Many men and women are in prison and dead because they did not say no to temptation. Only if we would have listened to our parents, pastors and teachers. If you have made a mistake, you can overcome your problem, no matter how bad it may be. Who else would be better to speak to this generation in regard to these areas than me? I am a young man back from the grave of deceit to tell you how my disobedience led to a near life in prison and death.

COCAINE IS MY NAME

My real name is COCAINE – some call me crack, yay-o, coke, powder, rocks, cookies, them thangs, chickens, birds.

The government invited me over here to make your life a living hell and put Your people in jail.

Every since then, I’ve caused hell in every family in America, made plenty of scumbags rich & some snitch.

Many have been murdered & some found in a ditch.

I’m more valued than God, diamonds, pearls, money, children, & gold.

Try or sell me once & you will be sold.

I’ll make a preacher not want to preach.

I’ll make an alter boy leave the church.

I’ll make a teacher forget how to teach.

I’ll make a schoolboy forget his books.

I’ll make a beauty queen forget her good looks.

I’ll make a barber sell all his tools.

I’ll take your momma & make her a whore.

I’ll hook your daddy & he will be always need more.

I’ll take your kids & destroy their life, that will hurt you like a sharp knife.

I’ll take all of your rent money & you will be evicted.

I’ll make you rob, trick, steal, & kill.

When you use or sell me, I put you under my power & you have no will.

Remember, my best friend, they call me Big C.

If you use or sell me, you may never be free.

I am not prejudice, I have destroyed many actors, preachers, politicians, & heroes.

I’ve decreased bank accounts from millions to zeros.

I’ve made shootings & killings a common affair.

Once I take over, you won’t have a prayer.

Now that you know me, what will you do?

It’s all your decision; it’s all up to you.

Keep playing with cocaine, I will make you well, The Jokes on You – I’m sending you straight to jail or hell.

Don’t listen to me, I don’t care, the only thing to conquer cocaine is prayer.

Uchendi Chin Nwani

Chapter 1

NEVER GIVE UP!

God is still in the Blessing business!

It was a hot Friday afternoon in the summer of 2000. I was on my way to speak at a Juvenile Halfway House for at risk youth. I was driving along in my car along Dickerson Road of Nashville, TN. I was flipping through CD’s. Finally I stopped and played rap CD. I thought about the days when I was selling drugs, when I had my white convertible corvette, Lexus coup, Benz, limousine and twenty other cars. I had spoken in front of hundreds of people in the past year. Today I was speaking to some young juvenile men, who previously committed crimes. They had been locked up and they were now staying in a halfway house.

After checking my written directions, I turned left on Rock Street. I drove to the top of the hill and turned right on Plum Street. There were two big apartment buildings and five cars parked in front of the two buildings. It was the Department of Human Services for young men who had committed crimes and gone to correctional facilities and now they were about to go back into society.

I parked my car in the visitor’s spot and looked up at the housing facility. It reminded me of the Federal Halfway House that I lived in, back in 1995 when I was released from the Federal Boot Camp in Lewisburg, PA. I took a deep breath, gathered my pictures of my federal cocaine case in 1993. I had many pictures of the large kilograms of cocaine that were confiscated by the police in 1993, which had been the largest cocaine bust in the history of Nashville, TN. On the streets the kilograms were known as keys, chickens, birds, bricks, them thangs, ya-oo, work, and cars. The kilos were still wrapped tight in duct tape smothering the kilos. Every time I looked at those pictures it brought back vivid memories of the cocaine, my mind travels back to power, money and sex. My mind goes back to living in constant fear and being paranoid such as, looking in my rearview mirror every second while I was driving, always driving cars with dark tinted windows, always sitting with my back to the wall in restaurants, driving around before I went home, so I could make sure no robbers were following me. I pulled my pistol out every time I got out of my car at night and I peaked out of hotel rooms before I went out and my heart always jumped every time I saw a police car- even if I did not have drugs on me.

Every night I arrived at home and I always waited until my automatic garage door opened all the way up so I could see if anyone was out there waiting to kill me, my mind goes back to the life that I was living. My mind also travels back to the 2.2lb kilo or 36 ounces or 1,008 grams to half a kilo or 504 grams or 18 ounces to a quarter key or 252 grams or 9 ounces to 28 grams or 1 ounce to a half ounce or 14 grams to an 8 ball or 3.5 grams to a 16th to a gram of cocaine, not to mention the isotol or cut that was used during the (droughts) when their was a shortage of cocaine. My mind goes back to the triple beam scales to the digital scales to the sandwich bags to cooking up kilos at a time with baking soda and making them come back with an extra quarter key of crack (252 grams). My mind goes back to the numerous sexual acts I had with the finest women in the world. My mind goes back to the homemade X-rated movies I made of all those women, which I showed to all of my friends.

Young ladies watch yourself, because most of the young men only want sex from you. Most young men don’t care about you. My mind goes back to being in the Strip Joints from Saturday night to five o'clock a.m. I would leave the strip joint at one o’clock a.m. with two of the finest strippers you ever saw in your life. As we approached the hotel, my heart would beat as hard and loud as a drummer beating a snare drum. One stripper was bowlegged and thick as gumbo. She walked in her high heel shoes, like she just got off of a horse. She had thick and juicy lips and her lips were all natural, there was no surgery. The other stripper was tall and sexy. She walked like a super model coming down the runway. She was built like a brick house. As I got out of the car, I opened my truck and got my video camera, tripod stand and boom box with my Too Live Crew/Luke Skywalker music.

I walked directly behind both strippers. I felt like a kid going to a candy store or grown woman going on a shopping spree. As we approached the hotel counter to check in, a white man with thick glasses appeared from behind the hotel counter, his face turned red and his eyes popped out of his head, when he laid his blue eyes on those two sexy sisters. He had probably just got off of his computer dreaming of some black sisters that were now directly in front of him. As we walked to the hotel elevator the front desk clerk stared a hole in the back of both strippers. I looked back and just smiled at the front desk clerk and he gave me the thumbs up sign. I almost over slept the next morning. Those two strippers never got tired, I felt like I had just run a marathon or got off of a dialysis machine. I rushed home and took a nice hot shower and put my black suit, white shirt with cuff links and black tie on. I had to adjust my tie three times before I got it to hang just above my waist. I was five minutes late to church.

The old mean usher with her wig cocked to the left side was guarding the door into the church sanctuary. Sister Bertha Sadie Howard always guarded the sanctuary door as if she owned the church. Old mean and hateful Bertha Sadie Howard finally let me into the sanctuary. As I walked down the church aisle, I made sure that my suit coat covered my loaded chrome nine millimeter pistol that was strapped to the back of my belt inside my black leather gun holster. The usher at the front of the church guided me to my regular Sunday seat that was directly behind the deacons on the third row. I would put my church face on every Sunday and act like I was living a Godly life, just like most of the other backsliders and hypocrites in the church. My mind also goes back to sitting in church every Sunday and twisting and turning in my seat, because my loaded chrome nine-millimeter pistol strapped to my back was always very uncomfortable sitting on the wooden church pew with the burgundy soft cushion. My pistol was always pushed against the mahogany wood church pew and the lower part of my back, which made me very restless in church. My mother was singing in the choir.

The choir moved from side to side, clapped their hands and stomped their feet, while our four foot tall musical genius choir director played the organ. After the church sang two songs to get the church hyped, it was time for the alter call. The alter call was for people who needed special prayer and Lords knows I needed the alter prayer more than any other person in the church. After the alter call I would sit and listen to my father preach the word. His sermons were always directed to me, I knew it was God speaking through my father, because my father did not know that I was living a wild and crazy life. It is strange how we live double lives the entire week and go to church on Sunday and we feel like the preacher has been with us all week and now he is preaching to us about our sins. My mind goes back to feeling my pager vibrate while my father was in the middle of his sermon, I would check my pager, and I knew it was another cocaine sell. I always wished my father would hurry up with his sermon, so I could get out of church and go sell some drugs and make more money. My mind goes back to getting out of church on Sunday and listening to the Scarface, Ghetto Boys and Tupac, while I was on my way to sell a couple of kilos or $50,000 or more worth of cocaine. My mind goes back to the day when I sold $250,000 worth of cocaine in one day, it was ten kilos at $25,000 a piece.

There were pictures of gold chains, pagers, and the famous chrome nine-millimeter pistol I carried. There were pictures of the dark blue limousine that had the wet bar, TV, CD player, and security/privacy window in it. Just imagine the crazy things that I did in the back of that limousine while my driver was driving me around town. I will share that crazy stuff with you later. There were pictures of the maroon Chevrolet Corsica jacked up in the air, with the police taking cocaine from the hidden secret compartments under the gas tank. How did the police know the cocaine was in the secret compartment if the dogs could not smell the cocaine? I will tell you later. There were pictures of the newspaper articles of the cocaine case that had headlines that read- JUDGE RAISES BOND TO $500,000 IN COCAINE CASE, POLICE ARE STILL SEARCHING FOR THE 21-YEAR OLD SUSPECTED LEADER. There were pictures of my mug shot and my sister’s mug shot. There were pictures of my presentence report where my fine range was $15,000 to $4,000,000. There were pictures of my warrant for arrest, count one -conspiracy to distribute cocaine, count two- possession with the Intent to Distribute Cocaine, count four- possession of Firearm during commission of felony, and count two & four- Aiding and Abetting. You will see these pictures later on.

As a nationally recognized motivational speaker, I always had confidence when telling my life story. But when I rang the doorbell at the Housing Facility a lady unlocked the door and invited me in. My confidence staggered a bit. I had spoken to many different functions, I had shared my testimony at Bishop T.D. Jakes Manpower conference in front of over 20,000 people, spoke at the 100 Black Men's youth camp, and many organizations and at Dudley University for Mr. Joe L. Dudley.

As I entered through the doors at the Halfway House I felt like I was back in prison again. There were just too many memories for me within the walls of a place like that. An old black lady led me down the hallway where the young juvenile men were.

What kind of crimes did these boys do? I asked. The counselor looked back at the group as though he hadn't heard anything. We have drug dealers, killers, robbers and car thieves, Mr. Chin, the counselor said, continuing his talk. Every 2 to 3 months we have a new bunch of kids. The prison facilities send them here before they let them go back into society.

I looked back and saw the fear in their eyes. I wished I had listened to my parents and teachers when I was their age. Who knows? I thought, it might have saved years of my life.

As I was walking in my black Maui alligator shoes with my matching belt and black 4-button suit with a gold tie and white medium starched shirt, a friendly voice said, Mr. Chin? I turned and saw a man approaching me in a suit and tie. The man stuck out his hand in greeting, saying "I'm Mr. Clay, the director here. Welcome to the Department