The Rise of the New King of Africa: The Rise of the New King of Africa, #1

By D. Lamonica

The continent of Africa is being manipulated and exploited for its natural resources by the world.Navy Senior Chief (Retired) Deric Tyrrell along with his friend, Gunnery Sergeant (Retired) Tyson Collins, undertake a deadly quest to enlist the help of the dangerous terrorist group Boko Haram to unite and take over the destabilized country of Somalia. Deric and Tyson enter a perilous world where unseen forces look to thwart their every move. When one of those forces is the US, how do former US soldiers respond against their own country? The quest changes Deric from respected US soldier to ruthless warlord. Tyson remains grounded but wonders has this quest driven his good friend over the edge towards insanity? What attack is Deric planning for the US? Discoveries in their travels lead to changes on the African continent the world is not ready to handle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Kang, LLC.
• Release date: Sep 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386154006

Book preview

1

The Interview – Part I, May 18, 2026

I hated wearing suits. I looked myself over in the mirror to ensure the suit I was wearing was flawless. Well, flawless at least in my eyes. I reached down into the drawer next to the mirror and picked up my Senior Chief Khaki uniform collar device. I pinned it to the left lower collar of my coat so it was visible for all to see. I wanted any US citizen who saw this interview would hopefully recognize that I was wearing the superimposed USN and fouled anchor of a Navy Senior Chief Petty Officer. I also wanted the people to think about the meaning behind it. Yes, I was a retired United States Navy Senior Chief, but it meant much, much more.

Not too many people know what the USN stands for on a US Navy Chief’s collar device, but we Chiefs use it in our everyday leadership onboard ship. It’s no different, as I use the same premise in my leadership as President of the Democratic Republic of Somalia. Once you’re a Chief in the US Navy, you’re always a Chief. My aim is to complete whatever mission is set upon me. There’s no obstacle too small or too great that I can’t overcome. The ‘U’ stands for the unity of my people. The ‘S’ stands for service to my country and my people. The ‘N’ stands for navigation, meaning I intend to navigate this country through fair and rough seas to its success, which, to this point, I have done with the help of many people.

The final piece I required to complete my suit was something I never learned to do well in boot camp or my over twenty-four years in the US Navy. I called in my bodyguard, Rahnna, to put on and tie my tie. She had been doing this for over five years now. She was not just my bodyguard; she was my lover. She was deadly, extremely loyal, and dedicated to no one else but me. Rahnna was awesome in bed and totally satisfied me – all six-feet-one inches of her. After Rahnna completed my tie, I turned around and looked it over in the mirror. After all these years, I wondered how she got the tie so damn straight. It was perfect. Rahnna nodded to me without saying a word. I nodded my approval. She then returned to her post outside my door. I watched her as she left in that tight pantsuit she was wearing. Unfortunately, I had no time to carry out the thoughts I had going through my mind right now. I had to be downstairs in fifteen minutes for an interview.

This was no ordinary interview; this recorded session would be used to write my biography—telling the story of how I, a citizen of the United States, became president of the new Democratic Republic of Somalia, the name I gave Somalia once I seized control of the country.

I opened the door and headed down to the presidential study where the interview would take place. Rahnna immediately took her place a few steps behind me. She radioed down to security below that I was on my way. I made my way down the stairs toward the study, greeting every one of my guards as I passed them. I made sure to know at least one thing about each of them. I learned that from a former navy recruiting commanding officer – know your people. I had lunch with my security twice a month so we could speak as equals over a good meal. I wanted to know what they were thinking. I wanted them to know what I was thinking as well. They represented the people, and I valued their input. I also ate lunch with a different platoon of my military, the Black Liberation Army, or BLA for short, every month. This promoted loyalty and esprit de corps and trust among the troops. It was just like when I was in the navy; I instilled those values into my troops as well.

I arrived at the presidential study five minutes early. I was always early for all meetings because I hated being late and I also hated meetings. If I was late, I canceled the meeting. I didn’t want to waste anybody’s time.

The presidential study was set up with bright lights and two chairs opposite each other for the interview. The cameraman was finishing last-minute checks before the interview. The interviewer, Zoya Azikiwe, was walking toward me. She was a popular Somali newscaster who asked to interview me and write my biography. I agreed to do it for half the royalties from the sale of the book. Those royalties would be for the benefit of the students and schools of Somalia. I didn’t require any more money than I already had. I thought it was about time that my story was told to the world. I wasn’t getting any younger, and the world needed to know the struggle I went through to bring Africa from the final frontier of colonization by other countries to the independent united countries we are today. I was hated by many countries, especially South Africa and my former country, the United States. It’s telling when a country hates a man for actually trying to develop Africa and take control of its natural resources for the benefit and betterment of Africa and its people, not other countries.

President Tyrrell, hello. Thank you again for this opportunity. Shall we get started? Zoya asked.

She was wearing a dark green pantsuit with a white blouse. Her skin tone was dark as night, just like Rahnna’s skin tone. Zoya was a very attractive woman. I would rather be staring at her for a few hours than a man.

I’m ready when you are, Mrs. Azikiwe, I replied, giving my suit one more look-over.

Please call me Zoya, and please, let’s have a seat.

We sat down opposite each other in the center of the presidential study. Rahnna moved to the back near the bookshelf and sat down. She was always on the alert. The pantsuit she was wearing was lined with knives suited for any good assassin. If you ever danced with her, you would be waltzing into the next life for sure.

Are we a go, Tik? Zoya asked the cameraman.

Ready when you are, Zoya, Tik replied.

Are you ready, Mr. President? Zoya asked.

I hated interviews. Let’s just say speech was not my greatest strength. I was nervous. Perspiration dripped from my underarms, dampening my armpits and my shirt.

I’m ready, I said.

Okay, Tik, on your count, Zoya said, preparing herself.

Alright… in five, four, three, two, one, go!

"Hello, I’m Zoya Azikiwe from the Somali News Network. This is one of the most sought-after interviews in the world, and I’m fortunate enough to be interviewing the first president of the Democratic Republic of Somalia, President Deric Tyrrell.

"What makes President Tyrrell a polarizing figure in the world today is that he has turned Somalia from a failed state to the premier economic power, military power, and tourist attraction on the African continent. There are questions about how this United States citizen, with the assistance of two of the deadliest terrorist organizations on the continent at the time in Boko Haram and al-Shabaab, united to achieve success in not only stopping the violence in Somalia but uniting most of the African continent.

And now, introducing Era Magazine’s Person of the Year for 2025, the Senior Chief God and the man known to his troops in the US Navy and the people of Somalia as Mufasa, President Deric Tyrrell. Mr. President, thank you again for this opportunity to talk with you and have you share your experiences with me and the people of the world.

It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Azikiwe, I said, ensuring I kept smiling.

So, Mr. President, let’s begin. Tell us about your beginnings, Zoya said.

Well, Zoya, I was born in Savannah, Georgia to a single mother. I never knew my father. I think the last time I saw him was when I was seven years old, but I don’t even remember how he looks.

Were you ever curious to meet with him after all these years? Zoya asked.

Well, Zoya, if a man knows he has a son or daughter and has the power and the means to contact them and doesn’t do so, it reveals his character. I’ll leave it at that.

I understand, Mr. President, Zoya said, smiling. Please continue.

I was raised by my grandmother, mostly, and sometimes my grandfather when he wasn’t drunk. My mother was there from time to time, but it was my grandmother who raised me.

Any thoughts on what you would do when you graduated high school? Zoya asked.

"In my household, there were no college graduates, so there was no real talk or mentors to motivate me to attend college. My grandmother always told me, ’Go into the service like your granddad. Don’t stay around here, boy, because there’s nothing around here for you.’

I thought my talent at playing football in my senior year would get me into college, but, instead, I chose to work in a Chinese restaurant to buy myself a car for my senior year in high school. I remember the coach asking me the first day back from summer vacation why I missed summer practice. I told him I worked all summer to save up to buy a car. He just shook his head and walked away, I laughed.

Were you any good at football or any other sports? Zoya asked.

My friends always told me I should run track or play football, but I was never a fan or dedicated to any sport.

So no sports scholarships and no money for college. What were your plans after high school, then? Zoya asked.

A United States Navy recruiter came and spoke a few words in my senior English class about mid-year. I was missing all the SAT test dates, and I realized I needed to do something with my life if I didn’t want to be stuck in Savannah, Georgia for the rest of my life. I spoke with the navy recruiter and joined the United States Navy.

When did you start your navy training?

I was off to basic training two weeks after high school ended in June 1985.

Once you completed your training, did you participate in any United States wars? Zoya asked.

I was stationed onboard ships that participated in Operation Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Iraqi Freedom, and Enduring Freedom. Also, onboard my first ship, I participated in the Bosnian conflict called Operation Red Crown. I was probably in other operations I can’t even remember, I said, laughing.

Zoya laughed and asked, How long were you in the navy?

I stayed in the navy a little over twenty-four years and some change.

You retired? Zoya asked.

I did retire from the navy.

Do you receive a pension check from the US government for your service until you pass away? Zoya asked.

Yes, I do. That reminds me, I should check that account. I last checked it about six years ago, I laughed.

Zoya laughed also. Then she asked, What rank did you achieve before retiring?

Senior Chief Petty Officer. It’s the second-highest enlisted rank.

Hence the nickname I’ve heard your troops call you, the Senior Chief God, Zoya said, laughing.

I laughed too. I hadn’t heard that nickname in a long time. Somewhat, but there is a story behind that nickname.

So, Mr. President, tell us how you became our president. When did you decide to come to Africa and why? Zoya asked.

Smiling, I said, Well Zoya, that’s a long story.

That’s why we’re here, Mr. President. I’m all ears, and I’m sure the people of the world want to know as well. Zoya said, smiling back at me.

Okay, Zoya. It was 2014 and…

2

A Crazy Idea, May 18, 2014

Deric looked back at everything that had brought him to this point in his life. He had been honorably discharged from the navy with one intent on his mind – to never take orders from anyone ever again. Before his release from active duty, he bought a convenience store he entrusted with family members to run prior to him retiring. His family eventually ran the convenience store he had bought into the ground. Deric tried to save the store but ended up placing himself in even more debt. He had to file for bankruptcy to prevent the creditors from seizing any assets he had left so his kids could live comfortably. Deric then had to find a job, which he did, going against his wish not to take orders from anyone. His marriage to his wife failed miserably during this time. She falsely accused Deric of domestic violence to get rid of him. Deric thought he loved her, but, actually, he never really did. In the final court case, the judge saw through her lies and granted Deric custody of his children. The little angel on his shoulder carried out vengeance against Deric’s ex-wife. However, Deric’s angel didn’t wear white; he wore a black robe and ensured the person who wronged him reaped what she sowed.

While Deric was separated from his kids, he wrote books to clear his mind. He made it his goal to write five books before the year was up. He accomplished that goal and, once published, his books were a major success. The books all together sold four million copies and were listed on the New York Time’s Best Seller’s List. The rights of two of the books were sold for movie deals. Through all Deric’s trials and tribulations, in the end, everything worked out fine. His kids were happy, and that was all that really mattered to him. However, Deric wasn’t happy even though he had finally made enough money to retire and live comfortably. He was a well-known author, but he still felt insignificant in the world. Deric felt he needed to make more of an impact in the world, not only from his books but on a grander scale. He had the money to do it.

Deric thought about this constantly as the weeks went by. Then one day, it hit him. When he was stationed onboard his last ship, one of his sailors asked what Deric planned to do when he retired. Deric told him if he made a lot of money, he would go to Africa, raise an army, and take over a country. They both laughed at the crazy thought. But now, was it a crazy thought? Deric thought about Fidel Castro and how he took Cuba with minimal resources. Deric had resources at his disposal, but how could he raise an army, and what country would he take over?

One country came to mind right off the bat – Somalia, a failed state. Somalia had so much potential to become a great nation on the African continent. Africa had been in disarray since the days of colonization. Now, a new wave of colonizers had plans to milk the African continent dry of all its natural resources. These modernized nations wanted nothing to do with uplifting and modernizing the countries of Africa who were allowing these colonizers to manipulate and cheat them out of millions of dollars in possible revenue.

But where would he get an army to begin this wild campaign? This is what happens when a person had enough money and free time to ponder ideas. Deric couldn’t believe he was even thinking about this. Only one group came to mind that could possibly help Deric in his quest to take over Somalia. This group had become a thorn in the side to Nigeria and the rest of the African continent. They were renowned for their terrorist attacks, kidnappings, and allegiance to ISIS – Boko Haram.

Boko Haram wreaked havoc across the northern part of Africa. They had the people, the equipment, and the reputation Deric needed to strike fear into any opposition that might come his way. Now, how could Deric find the elusive leader of Boko Haram so he could pitch his idea? Deric still couldn’t believe he was actually thinking about doing this. They could have his head chopped off just for being an American. The thought of trying to track down Boko Haram was exhilarating. Deric knew he could do this. He would do this. He decided to seek out Boko Haram and pitch his plan to them. Three things could happen: They could just say no and let him come home. They could say yes, and Deric would have his own personal army. The worst outcome could be the loss of his head. Deric was willing to take the chance. Thinking positively, once he convinced Boko Haram to cooperate, Deric required the soldiers to be trained like United States Marines. He required soldiers who could be trained to become the most feared fighting force on the African continent. Deric then thought about calling his friend, Tyson Collins. Tyson was a former Marine and had hit rock bottom since his wife left him for a younger stud. Deric would give good ole Gunnery Sergeant Collins a call and see if he wanted to tag along on this adventure. The idea was getting even more exciting to Deric as he continued to formulate his plan. He couldn’t wait to be on the plane to Africa.

*     *     *

Tyson hated being a civilian. He hated his job. He hated his life. Certain people at work were cordial to other coworkers, mainly white people. You would think the blacks would be the ones sticking together. They greeted the whites and didn’t say shit to Tyson. Tyson finally realized why people acquire a gun, go back to work, and blast everyone there before turning the gun on themselves.

After the kids grew up and left the house, Tyson’s wife Jennifer left him for a younger guy. Jennifer said he just didn’t do it for her anymore, whatever that meant. The kids hated his guts. They didn’t even call or visit. Tyson could only guess it was from being too hard on them when they were growing up. He had been in the Marines then. He wanted his kids to be tough and learn that life is a struggle and they must be strong to survive. Tyson didn’t really think they took to his Marine way of thinking. So now he was in this big house, all alone—no one to talk to or share his days with. Tyson passed the time drinking. It was the only thing that relaxed him and kept him sane. But he couldn’t do this for the rest of his life. This wasn’t living.

When Tyson was in Desert Storm with the Marines, he had purpose. He was respected and he had people under his command. Now, he felt like a nobody. Tyson felt he was nothing more than a fucking schmuck who worked in a factory where he would just like to take his gun and shoot everyone in the plant. Tyson hated civilians. He hated being a civilian. They whined and complained about the smallest things in life when there were people on the front lines fighting the war on terror that was going nowhere. But that was what Marines did. They followed orders whether they agreed or disagreed. It was time to end this misery—this miserable life he was living. Tyson prepared his full-dress uniform and ensured it was ready to go. He loaded his forty-five-caliber pistol with one shot in the chamber. Tyson would go through all his pictures of family and friends, remember the good times, have one final drink, get dressed, and end his life. Tyson thought he would finally be at peace then.

Tyson heard the phone ringing. No one ever called him. Nobody even liked him. He looked at the caller ID and saw a Georgia number. Who the hell did he know in Georgia? Curious, Tyson picked up the phone.

Hello? Tyson answered.

Hello, may I speak to Gunnery Sergeant Tyson Collins?

Tyson knew that voice.

Senior Chief Deric Tyrrell? Is that you? Tyson asked.

Yes, it’s me, old friend. How have you been doing?

Not as good as you. You’re on talk shows and your book was awesome. I read it, Tyson said.

Thanks, Tyson. I appreciate it. I was calling to see if you had anything going on. I was wondering if you want to go on a little adventure with me.

I was about to take a little trip here soon, but what did you have in mind? Tyson asked, looking over at his pistol on the table.

This may sound like a farfetched and crazy idea, but here it goes. I want you to fly with me to Africa to find Boko Haram. Once we find them, I want to convince the leader to help me take over the country of Somalia. I want you to train Boko Haram’s soldiers to be Marines.

Tyson couldn’t believe what Deric was saying. This was a joke. This had to be a joke. Tyson started laughing.

Deric, you’re one funny ass son of a bitch. You had me going there for a second. Nobody has made me laugh like that in a long time, brother. You brightened my day. Thanks. Tyson said still laughing.

Not laughing, Deric said, I’m not joking, Tyson. This is for real.

For real? Are you out of your fuckin’ mind! Finding Boko Haram is a one-way ticket to having your head chopped off or worse. They’ve been classified as the most dangerous terrorist organization on the African continent. How the hell do you plan to convince the leader to follow you? Tyson asked.

I don’t know. But how will I know if I don’t ask him? Come on, this could be the adventure of a lifetime. I will pay all your expenses. You don’t have to worry about anything. If it doesn’t work out, we just come home and do what we’ve been doing. What do you say? Deric asked.

Tyson thought he made a good point. Well, I was about to blow my brains out before you called, so I guess I’m in on this crazy ass adventure of yours. Count me in, Tyson said.

Why not? Tyson was planning to blow his brains out anyway. He decided he might as well go out doing something adventurous.

Excellent. It will take me about two weeks to get my affairs in order. So let’s shoot for June first for our flight to Africa. I will make all the arrangements. June first. Oh, and Tyson, could you pack me a set of your fatigues to wear?

Sure, Deric. I can do that. I’ll be ready to go June first. I’ll see you then. And Deric, thanks. Tyson said. You may have just saved my life. Deric had just saved him from placing a bullet in his head.

No, Tyson, thank you for coming with me. This is a dangerous mission and I wouldn’t want anybody else by my side but you. Thanks. See ya in two weeks. Take care till then, Deric said hanging up the phone.

You do the same.

Tyson hung up the phone. He had finally been given a purpose in life again. He would get to go to the motherland itself – Africa. He thought he had to be out of his mind to do this shit. But then again, he was about to blow his brains out anyway. Maybe in the end, Tyson would meet his death at the hands of Boko Haram and his plan would be accomplished. Tyson realized he had to start packing and call the kids to let them know he would be out of town for an extended period. Like they really gave a damn anyway, but Tyson decided to call them because this might be the last time he had a chance to speak with them. He needed to apologize for the past and let them know he still loved them even though they might not love him. And now, Gunnery Sergeant Collins was back in action! Oh yeah!

*     *     *

Now that Deric had Tyson to accompany him on his mission, he needed to get his affairs in order before leaving for Africa. He decided to visit his kids for a week at his mother’s house and then the following week ensure all his affairs were in order just in case the worst-case scenario occurred—getting his head chopped off. Deric gave his mom a box with his Mufasa blade inside all wrapped up and ready to mail. He knew he would need the blade on this adventure. The blade had been sitting in his china cabinet since he retired.

Deric was still thinking about his plan. This was a crazy idea and Deric kept asking himself what was driving him to do this. The thought of his name being recognized throughout the world, the possibility of taking over a failed African country and propelling it to the forefront was an awesome undertaking. It was an adventure Tyson and Deric would cherish for the rest of their lives. If they survived, at least they could say they tried. Ok, Africa, he thought, Here we come!

*     *     *

The flight to Africa took almost twenty-four hours. The flight was held up in France. Deric had been to France a few times when he was in the navy. He didn’t enjoy either visit except the part where he got totally drunk to forget his visit to France. The people Deric and his friends met while in France were inhospitable to Americans, not just black people, all of them. A bunch of real snobbish assholes is what they were. Deric put France on his list of places to never visit. As their plane made its final approach to the capital of Abuja, Nigeria, Tyson and Deric talked about family and life because this could be a one-way ticket to having their heads chopped off by Boko Haram if they could find them.

Have you spoken to Chalise since she had that incident? Tyson asked, stuffing his mouth with peanuts.

Unconcerned, Deric answered, No, I haven’t.

Deric, I’ve been meaning to ask if… Tyson began, but Deric cut him off.

Don’t ask, Tyson, Deric said.

Alright, Deric. I understand. Tyson said, continuing to stuff his mouth with peanuts.

Chalise had been sexually assaulted after Deric gained custody of the kids. He was in Vegas at the time with her sister, Ramona. Chalise claimed Deric had her set up. There was an investigation, but no evidence corroborated her claim. Chalise and Deric do not speak to one another at all. They just texted one another regarding the kids, nothing more.

How are your kids? Deric asked.

Stephanie talked to me and forgave me for the past, but Michael is another story. He’s still pissed at me. Can’t say that I blame him. I was a hard dad to live with. He wouldn’t even take my calls before I left. All I wanted to tell him was that I loved him before I left.

I guess old wounds from the past heal slowly with him. Give it more time and keep trying. I’m sure it will work itself out in the end, Deric said.

I don’t know if we’ll make it back after seeking out Boko Haram, Tyson said, leaning over and whispering the last part of his statement.

I played with my kids the whole week I was with them. I explained to them I had to go out of town on business. Of course, I asked them what they wanted when I came back. I have a list of things they want. I have to deliver them to my kids and I never break my promises to them. We both have made it a combined fifty years in the military. We will make it back from this, Deric said to Tyson as he searched the seat pockets for more peanuts.

I hope you’re right, Senior. There are a few things I left back at home I need to repair. Tyson said, smiling and finding another package of peanuts.

With confidence, Deric said, Don’t worry, we’ll make it through this and, hopefully, become so much more for it.

Yeah, whatever. I just want my head intact when we leave. Both Tyson and Deric laughed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final approach to Abuja, Nigeria. It is currently half past nine in the morning. Please