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Bad market - episode 6

Bad Market – Episode 6

If a soothsayer told me whilst I was leaving the house that I will still be out by 11 p.m, I would have had a good laugh. Albeit, here I was amid a group of ragtag cultists whose capon was my lowlife brother.

::::::::::Read Episode 5 of Bad Market here:::::::

My phone had been ringing like forever, my parents especially my father was worried sick about me. They needed to ascertain my where about since I never stayed out late but my devil’s incarnate brother who was in possession of the phone wouldn’t let me answer the call to allay their fears.

I had watched Spartacus beat Osakwe, my childhood friend to stupor for no reason at all. At least that was how the scenario appeared to me since the offence they claimed he committed was reporting their clandestine activities to the Area ‘H’ divisional police command, which led to their detention though my brother was conspicuously missing from their hangout spot when the Police moved in on Spartacus and crew.

Though we weren’t as close as we used to be, I tried the best I could to stop them from hurting Osakwe but they were hell bent on teaching him a lesson he probably would never forget until the day he would breathe his last.

It was not until some minutes past midnight that Timi decided my work of chauffeuring them around was done for the night.

As I entered the car to drive home, a police patrol van drove past me and immediately stopped at the spot where my brother, his gang, wayward neighbourhood youths and other visitors were having a swell time, all seizing the advantage of the Eid El Fitri celebrations.

As the officers of the law jumped down from their hilux van, the young men and women turned from party animals to rodents who were finding every means of escape after sensing danger nearby. The police men had their targets and swiftly went into action.

In no time they rounded up Timi and a good number of his cohorts. They even went ahead to destroy speakers and other vital components of the celebration. I sat behind the steering wheels fearing the worse, I had become so confused, not sure if I should just drive home or remain where I was until the police men were done with their operation.

I was seriously hoping I wouldn’t be caught neck deep in the drama. Though I enjoyed the view of the Police action on the miscreants from where I was at a distance, I was scared in the event that they turned their searchlight on me.

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It had been almost a month since the incident involving Osakwe that led to my brother spending more than a week in police detention; his longest since he became one of their most reliable customers. It seemed this time around Timi was really going to turn a new leaf.

Though he only spent some days in Police net, his experience with them this time around was a very unpleasant one. Timi came back home looking like a shadow of himself. He was emaciated and had varying degrees of injury that seemed to form natural tattoos on his body.

Also, he had become really cold and withdrawn and even Dad was  disturbed by the development. I don’t even know why Timi’s new found attitudinal disposition was a problem to my parents and I did find my father’s conclusion on it quite laughable.

The old man had told me to watch my back and also put an eye on my brother. My dad believed Timi continued silence and stay at home was a death trap.

“I wonder what he has up his sleeves this time. It looks like he’s getting deadlier by the day. This is definitely not Timi. His behavior is totally strange!” Those were Dad’s assertion which I tried to make sense of.

I still couldn’t understand why Timi’s new found behaviour would pose any threat when the reverse should be the case.

As for me, I only saw the positive angle to it; no more police cases, threats to my own life, misrepresentation, mischief and the endless troubles my parents had to go through for his sake. Though Timi still had an Alhaji Kazeem who was yet to reconcile with his wife to contend with.

It was a quiet Saturday evening, I had just finished a premiership match involving my team, Arsenal and Watford at the Emirates stadium. And as usual Wenger’s boys failed to tick when it mattered most. I just couldn’t understand how on earth they would play out a scoreless draw with a team that had only managed two wins since the season began and were currently sitting rock bottom of the league table.

As I walked down the lobby I realized I had not set my eyes on Timi since midday, I decided to check him in his room which was at the end of the lobby. I knocked on his door to be certain he was there but there was no response. I turned the knob, fortunately the door was open. I helped myself in. My brother was fast asleep when I gained access into the room.

I scanned through the room in two shakes of a lamb tail, it was at that moment I saw some papers scattered on his bedside table. I was curious knowing fully well that my brother was not the type that does paper work so I drew closer to the only table in the room. Then I saw what the papers he had on his table were about.

I was stunned to say the least when I viewed the contents of the papers. My brother had been leasing out apartments in my father’s new property at Yaba to complete with forged lease agreement forms and signatures.

“Oh my God! Timi what have you done?” I voiced out loudly which woke him from his slumber with a start.

“What the heck are you doing in my room?” It immediately dawned on him what I was up to. He jumped out of bed to lash out at me.

“How dare you? You slanderer!” It was the first time my brother spoke an angry word since he was released from Police detention.

 

Bad Market continues next week…

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