The Brotherhood

By Anslem Osasuyi

The Brotherhood is an intriguing story of a matrix of the deadly operations of Nigerian university cult gangs and religious groups set in one of the most populous black nation’s foremost university. Capone Aboy, the head of the Black Eagles confraternity had planned to make his group the most respected and feared confraternity on campus. In order to achieve this, he had to raise funds, manipulate the political system of the Students Union Government and weaken rival confraternities. Everything was taking shape, until Sister Evelyn, a Christian fellowship leader came across his part. Although her effort to get him ‘born again’ was unsuccessful, a strange relationship had developed between the two.

Things were going well for the confraternity until a series of errors by their hit-man triggered a bloody chain reaction which led to the death of several people, including Capone Aboy’s cousin. A cult war ensued leading to a trail of blood, deaths and destruction.

In the moment of victory by the Black Eagles confraternity, Capone Aboy came to realize that despite achieving his desire on campus, his life was empty, and the only thing that meant anything to him was his love for Sister Evelyn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532089800

Anslem Osasuyi

Osasuyi Anslem is a serving officer of the Nigerian Air Force. He holds a Bachelor of Dental Surgery from the University of Benin, Benin City, Nigeria. He is a Fellow of the West African College of Surgeons and Consultant Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeon in the Nigerian Air Force. He also has a psc from the prestigious Armed Forces Command and Staff College, Jaji, Nigeria and he is a recipient of the Forces Service Star award. He is married to Mrs Lilian Eziafa Osasuyi and the marriage is blessed with four children.

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Copyright © 2019 Anslem Osasuyi.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-8979-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-8980-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019919332

iUniverse rev. date: 12/09/2019

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1     Birds Of Same Plummage

Chapter 2     Botched

Chapter 3     The Guns Were Not Smoking

Chapter 4     Aboy

Chapter 5     Different Strokes

Chapter 6     Spider Web

Chapter 7     Wasted Bullets

Chapter 8     Bloody Trails

Chapter 9     The Plot

Chapter 10   Scam

Chapter 11   Meddling Martins

Chapter 12   Matrix

Chapter 13   Catalyst

Chapter 14   Love Triangle

Chapter 15   Retribution

Chapter 16   Code Red

Chapter 17   The Beginning Of The End

Chapter 18   After The Storm

Chapter 19   For Love And The Sword

DEDICATION

T o my wife and children; Lilian, Stephanie, Amanda, Olivia and Nichole. Maj Gen (Rtd) MA Efeovbokhan, Ize and Perry; for always being there. And to my late father Chief M.O. Adoghe (in memoriam).

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

W ith gratitude, I wish to acknowledge my mentor, Maj Gen Mathias Efeovbokhan who encouraged me to write, my wife, for going through the manuscript, my friends and colleagues who encouraged me to publish the book; Perpetual, Tosin, Inemesit, Ize, Aisha Aisimi and Flight Lieutenant O S Idemudia.

MEN CAN NEVER STAY WITHOUT

TROUBLES THEY EITHER HAVE GENUINE TROUBLES OR THEY MANUFACTURE SOME

CHAPTER ONE

BIRDS OF SAME PLUMMAGE

T he monthly meeting of the Brotherhood was to take place at the usual place. An extension of the ‘Valley of Decision’, which skirted the inner edge of the highly walled-in Hall IV. The valley itself was an important historical landmark in the University of Benin and this particular spot in the valley was more significant because not every student could cross it from twilight hours to early dawn. The reasons for such restrictions were however obscure. But it was not something anyone wanted to investigate. Every student of the University knew that it was wiser to just stay away from the ‘Valley of Decision’ during this time of day.

It was the first meeting of the Brotherhood since the commencement of the new academic session; which made it a unique one. But there was another angle to this meeting. It was the first meeting to be presided over by the new Capone of the Black Eagles confraternity, Capone Aboy. If Capones were selected based on their looks, Aboy would never have made it. He was a tall, handsome gentleman, with broad shoulders and a pleasant face, the son of a professor in a neighbouring university. He attended church service every Sunday and, in many respects, looked like he could not hurt a fly. His biggest asset was his oratorical ability. Aboy could literally talk a monkey down from a tree. But that was where the virtuous qualities ended. As a member of the Black Eagles confraternity, Aboy was a ruthless and cunning hitman. He was the head of the Brotherhood’s hit squad for a long time before he was appointed Capone.

Ordinarily, the part of the ‘Valley of Decision’ that was the venue of the monthly meeting was meant to be a horticultural garden. It however, looked more like a forest of whistling pines and raffia palms in bad condition. It was sandwiched between the main students’ hostels and the staff quarters of the University.

Somewhere at the heart of the forest of pine trees and raffia palms was a wide clearing. At one end of the cleared space was an object that looked like an altar, covered all over with red clothing. A closer look at the cloth on top of the altar revealed patches of reddish-brown stains. Every member of the Black Eagles confraternity usually referred to by its members as ‘the Brotherhood’, past or present, had at one time or the other shed a few drops of blood at the altar when taking the oath of allegiance to the confraternity. The altar was sacred, a symbol of the irreversibility of the blood covenant that bound the members of the Black Eagles confraternity together, from one generation to another.

The members of the Brotherhood began to arrive, each clad in the traditional black jeans and black vest, with a black bandana tied around the head. On the front of the black vest and the bandana was the sign of a cross that consisted of a sword and a gun, the emblem of the Black Eagles confraternity.

There was a fire burning at the centre of the clearing. It was the only lighting in the place, save for the glow of cigarette sticks on the lips of everyone present. They all smoked. Although every member of the Brotherhood had wraps of marijuana, popularly called weed, tucked in their pockets, no one dared to smoke it, no matter the urge, unless the Capone gave the go-ahead.

Suddenly the sound of a gong reverberated through the serene night, signaling the entrance of the Capone. Everyone present rose up briskly and chorused in unison;

Oh Capone, may you live long and may you remain rugged as we sail through the rugged and bloody sea.

The Capone responded by walking slowly but steadily around the circle of men, touching each one on the shoulder with a walking stick that had the emblem of the Brotherhood carved on its head. After he had gone round, he went straight to sit on a black stool behind the altar.

Almost immediately, a song was raised by the Song Master and the gyration started.

My mama tell me say!

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

When I reach Uniben

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

Make I no confrato

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

As I reach Uniben

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

I come Confrato

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

As I confrato

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

So so rugged rugged

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

So so hacking hacking

Iyo, iyo iyo iyo

The song continued, backed up by drums and gongs. Soon, everyone was dancing in circles. Swiftly the Song Master went into another song and the drumming increased in tempo, the rhythm now faster, as the members of the Brotherhood went into frenzied dance steps.

When I reach Uniben!

Ayamba

I see one girl

Ayamba

The girl too fine

Ayamba

The girl too set

Ayamba

I like the girl o!

Ayamba

The girl like me

Ayamba

With a little toasting o!

Ayamba

She land for my cove

Ayamba

I put am for bed

Ayamba

I gave her something!

Ayamba

The thing blow whistle o

Blow whistle o, blow whistle o, blow whistle

The thing blow whistle o

Blow whistle o, blow whistle o, blow whistle

The narrative was repeated again and again; and then the chorus was repeated twice. This continued until Capone Aboy stepped into the circle, made a few gyrating steps and then gave an abrupt signal. The music stopped immediately.

They all sat down on the ground again in circles, arms folded across the chest. The breeze was rustling the raffia palm leaves as if gently protesting the invasion of its accustomed serenity at this time of the night, when all creatures were supposed to be resting peacefully in their assigned habitat.

Capone Aboy cleared his throat and surveyed the gathering. Then he gave his inaugural speech as the Capone. He started by giving a brief history of the Black Eagles confraternity and their exploits so far.

However, he said, his voice rising and becoming passionate, we are not the number one confraternity on this campus, and that situation is totally unacceptable. With the number of rugged men amongst us, all well tested, tried and trusted, combined with the number of rugged men that we have in positions of authority in this institution, we ought to be number one. We need to realise that we are untouchable, we are like gods on this campus, therefore, we must be seen to be behaving as such, and we need to take our rightful place in the comity of confraternities in this University.

There was complete silence as Capone Aboy paused to survey his audience again, this time, slowly, as if he was trying to gauge the effect of the address on each of them. There was no flicker of movement from anyone. They all gazed back at him dispassionately with unblinking eyes. Capone Aboy continued.

I have been doing a lot of thinking ever since I was made the Capone. I have decided that this new academic session will witness a lot of changes in the balance of power among the confraternities on this campus and beyond. Are you all ready to sail with me?

Sail on Oh Capone, we are ready and willing to sail with you on the rugged sea! they chorused.

First, our share of the ‘Bakassi Peninsula’ must be enlarged, and then, the Students Union Government, which has for long been under the hold of our arch-rivals, the Black Mambas confraternity, must be wrestled out of their grip, no matter what it would take. And I don’t think to do that would require more than a few drops of blood. I know that most of us here have been tested. For the younger ones who have never tasted action, it is something you must look forward to, for that is what will make you completely rugged. There is no ruggedness without the shedding of blood.

Oh Capone, we are ready to go with you all the way, they all chorused.

Capone Aboy raised another song to signal the end of his speech.

Today, today, tomorrow no more, if I blend today, I will die no more!

The chorus was taken up by everyone, but the dance was a Capone’s dance. They all sat still as Aboy did a few dance steps and took his seat. Then, they went into an orgy of drinking and smoking. The Capone gave his blessing and marijuana was shared among the group. After a long period of revelry, they went into another round of gyration. As the clock inched its way past midnight, the members of the Black Eagles confraternity danced on as if there was no tomorrow.

Somewhere else, at the University of Benin Sports Complex, several groups of people were having a prayer meeting, most of them praying in unintelligible languages. They were speaking in tongues. Such spiritual activity was popularly termed ‘kabashing’ by the students. The University of Benin Sports Complex was the main ‘kabashing’ place for most Christian groups on campus.

At the heart of the prayer meeting was a lady simply called Sister Evelyn. She was the leader of a union of the ubiquitous Christian fellowship groups on campus and the pastor of the Christian Fellowship Assembly. Being the first combined fellowships’ prayer meeting for the new academic session, it was, expectedly, a long one.

Sister Evelyn, a third-year student of the University, was one of the most beautiful ladies on campus. She was tall, slim and light-complexioned. She was well respected in the Christian community. Despite her well-known Christian belief, she was constantly pestered by many boys on campus for a romantic relationship. But as far as Sister Evelyn was concerned, she was not interested in any carnal relationship. She had long taken a vow to remain a virgin until she got married. It was a non-negotiable issue. And talking about marriage; she had equally promised herself never to get married until she has heard clearly from God. That, also, was another non-negotiable issue.

As she was preparing to round up the prayer session for the night, she felt deeply troubled by the spirit in a way she could not explain. She could hear a voice from deep within her, trying to communicate to her spirit, though silently, but yet clear enough. The instructions were very distinct, definite and unambiguous;

"Pray against bloodshed," the inner voice said.

She did not understand. There has never been any incidence of bloodshed in the Christian community on campus ever since she gained admission into the University. Such things were for those who have sold their hearts to the devil, members of the ubiquitous cult gangs on campus. And when the devil’s agents decide to shed the blood of their fellow brothers in the satanic world, it was not the concern of Christian brethren. Theirs was to pray for them to be converted and be saved. But when they kill themselves, they would simply be obeying the spiritual principle that says that those who kill by the sword will perish by the sword. There was nothing anyone could do about it. It was an eternal principle. They always come to pass. This was why the instruction was strange. Nevertheless, Sister Evelyn was wise enough to know that spiritual issues were not about logic and understanding. It was about blind obedience and faith. She decided to hearken to the silent voice from within.

She looked at her people; all she saw was tiredness, written all over their faces. Most of them had not broken their dry fast, which was declared by the Christian leaders for all Christians on campus. The spirit was indeed, willing, the flesh probably willing too, but their stomachs were undoubtedly weak and in serious protest. Her heart went out to them. Her human nature gained control over her senses. She realised that she had to let them go. She, however, made a mental note to stay behind and pray alone when they have all gone.

After the dismissal of the prayer meeting, Sister Evelyn stayed behind to pray. But her spirit was not at rest. A voice from within queried ‘Did not the Bible say where two or three are gathered?’ The instruction was for the whole brethren, not for her alone. ‘God would understand,’ she countered her tormentor. But it was of little consolation to her, as her heart remained troubled. She remembered what her spiritual father once told her, that in the spiritual realm, our seemingly little actions and inactions were like seeds of cancerous cells. They grow steadily, sometimes slowly, but determinedly, spreading and taking over all the functions of the human organs. Over time, the human body succumbs to its evil clutches. It never lets go until the innocent and unwilling host becomes consummated.

As the Christians dispersed after the prayer meeting and headed for the hostel at about midnight, the members of the Black Eagles confraternity also sneaked one after the other, into the hostels, having disguised their attire with plain-looking clothes, hiding the evil that lurked in their dark souls.

Many of the members of the Black Eagles confraternity lived in Hall IV. The hostels in the University of Benin were named serially, based on their period of construction; Hall I being the oldest, and Hall IV the most recently built. But these numeric nomenclatures were merely for convenience. All the hostels had their official names.

Hall IV was officially known as Akanum Ibiam Hostel. It was a name that did not go down well with the inhabitants of the hostel and they stubbornly refused to use the name. They promptly rechristened it Abuja. It was strongly believed by the students that the outgoing generation of Nigerians was, either by commission or omission, unable to yield a single hero for the succeeding generation to emulate. Tribal heroes maybe. But definitely not national heroes. Hence the stubborn rejection of attempts to immortalise anyone in a generation that was mostly regarded as a wasted generation by the students. Several attempts by the older generation to foist some people on them as national heroes never worked. Heroes were people who brought about concrete positive changes in their society and if the society was malfunctioning, then, it becomes preposterous to talk about heroes. And indeed the country was obviously malfunctioning as far as the students were concerned. It was not an issue for argument. The facts were there for all to see. And so in the mind of the students, the issue of national heroes had long been laid to rest. It would definitely not come from the outgoing generation.

Somewhere in the hostel Abuja, Lucky Edokpayi was whistling contentedly to himself after a bowl of soaked garri and hot beans porridge. Abuja boys could never do without eating beans porridge in one day. The natural sequelae of eating hot beans porridge was body heat generation.

Lucky Edokpayi felt hot after eating his bowl of hot beans porridge. He flung his towel across his shoulders and headed for the bathroom. It was late at night but the heat was unbearable. He needed a cold shower. This was the best time to bath in Hall IV; no queues and the showers flow.

The bathroom in the hostel housed five showers each in separate compartments. But only one or two showers could flow simultaneously. The showers were mostly unused by the students during the daytime because they rarely flow. At night, however, some showers flow.

As Lucky Edokpayi stepped into the bathroom, he realised that one of the showers was running. Someone must be in there, he thought. What on earth could the person be doing there by this time of the night? At least he had an explanation for taking a late bath; he went to read and came back late. Then he did some cooking. No other person was cooking along the corridor when he did his cooking. So why was this boy taking his bath by this time? Well, he thought, nothing was going to stop his cool bath. He would still go ahead and use the shower. He went into one of the compartments, careful not to slip as the floor was perpetually wet. He turned the knob of the shower and the tap spurted some water, made some sputtering noise, and luckily, came alive. He started his whistling again, savouring the cool soothing feeling that came over him as the water poured all over his body.

If you love yourself, turn off that shower, wait till I finish my bath, okay? It was from the second compartment. The tap in it had stopped running, only hissing viciously.

Although Lucky Edokpayi knew that there was someone in one of the bathrooms, he was still surprised to hear such a disrespectful command coming from a fellow student. It gave him a rude jolt, dragging him roughly down from the lofty height of his nocturnal shower induced daydreaming. Instantly he felt angry and rebellious.

What is it that gives you the guts to talk to a fellow student like that? Lucky retorted. At least, he was one of the oldest occupants of Hall IV. He was not going to allow any upstart to bully him, let alone spoil his fun. It was not often that students had the time to enjoy anything on campus, most especially a cool bath. In any case, he knew there was nothing anybody could do to him. He was an old student, an elder statesman on campus.

But he was totally wrong. If Lucky Edokpayi knew that he was talking to Capone Aboy, the dreaded but faceless Capone of the Black Eagles confraternity, he would have turned off the shower promptly and then thanked Aboy for asking him to do so. And everything would have ended there. There were definitely some fights that one must not pick up. But he did not know who Aboy was; hence he refused to turn off the tap. But who could blame Lucky? He was, after all, a man, and men were known to do stupid things whenever their ego was threatened.

Capone Aboy came out of his own compartment; he was almost through with his bath except for a few islands of soap foams in some parts of his body. He had a very good look at Lucky Edokpayi, his face emotionless. Then he walked away without uttering a word.

But Lucky Edokpayi would not let sleeping dogs lie. He started to rain vituperations on the retreating Aboy. Go away. Who do you think you are anyway? Even if you were the Vice-Chancellor’s son, I still will not turn off my shower, useless thing, you think you can intimidate me? I should turn off my shower for you. Nonsense.

Capone Aboy said nothing, he merely turned around, looked at Lucky Edokpayi again, and this time, smiled, shaking his head slightly from side to side, and then he walked away.

Lucky Edokpayi was unfazed. He went ahead to have a good shower. Feeling cool with himself, he walked gingerly back to his room, whistling to himself again. Some fine jazz tunes were emitting from his Sony music player. Uniben was the school to be, he thought, as he settled down on his bed to relax and sleep. Life to him was good.

The next day, Lucky Edokpayi, after a hectic day in class, decided to go visiting. He headed for Hall I, the female hostel. At Hall I, he visited some of his female classmates and had lunch with one. After fulfilling his afternoon visitation, he headed back for Hall IV. At the Hall I common room, he heard someone call his name. He turned and stared blankly at the boy that called him. He was almost certain that he had never met the boy before now. The boy was short and sturdy. Lucky did not like him at first sight.

Who? Me? Lucky asked. It was for want of something more intelligent to say rather than a request for confirmation, for the boy had pointed at him directly and was now moving towards him.

Yes, you, are you not Lucky Edokpayi?

Lucky Edokpayi did not like the way the boy looked. There was something sinister about him. He could smell trouble. He wondered why the boy was wearing a suit in this hot tropical weather. Something was not right.

Lucky took a few hesitant steps towards the boy. After all, he thought, it was broad daylight and in a busy hostel, what could the boy possibly do to him? He was not known to be a coward. Quite a number of students were in the common room, most of them reading, others were watching television.

You better follow me this way, the boy said, nudging him forward. Lucky was taken aback by the boy’s courage. To talk to him like that and expect him to obey. Indeed, wonders shall never end in Uniben, he thought.

Will you leave me alone? Lucky said irritatingly, his voice rising, What is your problem? Have you lost your mind? He was about to hurl more insults at the boy but stopped suddenly. His legs grew weak. The short boy, instead of talking, had pulled his suit aside, revealing the butt of a handgun at his left side. Lucky Edokpayi has never been this close to a gun before in his whole life. Not even in his three years in the University of Benin. As if for effect, the boy placed his right hand on the butt of the gun and said,

Either you follow me now, in the daytime, so that we can settle this matter or you wait for us at night. The choice is yours but if I were you, I would choose to follow during the daytime because the nights are evil.

It did not look real to Lucky Edokpayi. Things like this could never be real. People were going about, entering in and out of the hostel as if nothing was amiss. There were a couple of security men at the entrance of the hostel, pot-bellied and disinterested. And here he was being held hostage and no one seems to notice. Or they didn’t just care. He weighed his options and decided to follow the boy to a corner where two other boys stood, smoking cigarettes.

This is the Ju man, the short boy announced, giving him a rough shove, as they got to where the other boys were. This is the man that ate the lion’s heart to his fill and decided to insult the hell out of our Capone.

Lucky Edokpayi wanted to protest immediately but he was silenced by one of the boys who placed his finger over his lips as a sign for him to keep quiet. A look at his bloodshot eyes was enough to shut anybody up. And Lucky Edokpayi knew this was no time to be heroic. These people looked dangerous. He kept his mouth shut as ordered.

Are you Lucky Edokpayi? the boy asked.

Yes, he replied weakly. By this time, his tongue felt dry, almost sticking to the roof of his mouth. His mind was racing. He could not remember having any serious quarrel with anybody, at least, not the type that would warrant them coming after him with guns and axes. He wondered how they knew that he was going to be in Hall I that afternoon. It all did not make sense.

What happened yesterday night at Hall IV? one of the boys asked.

Lucky Edokpayi could not recollect anything. His brain simply refused to function. He could not remember any incidence that would warrant such harassment. His honest effort at recollecting what happened was so obvious on his face that it brought mischievous smiles to his captors’ hardened faces.

So you can not remember anything? You have suddenly become a blockhead? You cannot remember what transpired between you and someone in the bathroom at Hall IV yesterday night? Of course, you will not remember. Arrogant men like you never remember anything.

Lucky’s mouth fell open. So that was it? He did not see that as anything. There were a thousand and one exchanges of that sort between students on campus every day and nobody took them to heart. Students were like brothers who enjoyed taunting each other and yet retaining