Sunday 4 December 2016

Monster Personified

MONSTER PERSONIFIED

    That cultism is a dreaded and deadly confraternity, which remains a posteriori reasoning to any sane being, was unarguably a laughable assertion to each member of the ‘Scorpion tattoo’ whose actions or decisions remained a nightmare across the lengths and breadth of Ajala University of Technology situated in one of the states in the South-South geopolitical zone of Nigeria. The overall members of Scorpion tattoo, which was the most terrifying secret society on the campus, could not hold their breaths until ‘justice’ was tendered with cruelty to anyone whom they felt deserved it; their unequalled weird and irrational prowess proceeded unabatedly that most prospective students of the university were repeatedly deterred from enrolling for the institution during Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examinations (UTME).

     “Butcher them all!” the Capone would always exclaim each time he sent his men to the battle field.

     On their part, his subjects comprising 23 able-bodied dudes wouldn’t hesitate to gladly and emphatically respond “Their heads remain our meats” whenever the aforementioned instruction came up.

     Any rational creature who happened to be close-by each time they chant in such uncanny and bilious manner may wonder if one’s head could actually serve as meat; though apparently something that was chanted in a bush, if not thick forest, might not be lucky to be heard by a second party or a passerby.

     Scorpion tattoo was the order of the day not just within the said zone but across the country as well as a nightmare to any genuine and dedicated security personnel resident in the zone. Unravelling the brain behind the seemingly unstoppable nefarious syndicate causing wanton destruction of lives and property was indeed a case study to any meaningful stakeholder both within and beyond.

      It is worth noting that the federal government declared a one-week state of emergency in the affected state when the incidence became colossally unbearable; this gesture was necessitated by two identical female twins who happened to be students of the university that were murdered on the campus in broad daylight by stray bullets during a duel between the Scorpion tattoo and its closest rival – the ‘Red legend’. The parents of the deceased persons who were influential personalities in the society had propelled the federal government to delve into the unfortunate matter with a view to ensuring that justice prevailed.

     “I want you to ascertain whosoever that is behind this mess.” The Inspector General of Police (IGP) instructed the Commissioner of Police (CP) of the affected state on a telephone conversation during the era of the state of emergency.

     “Sir,” the CP voiced out. “I promise you that I will leave no stone unturned towards capturing the bloody fool within five days.”

     “Did I hear you say five days?”

     “Sorry Sir,” the CP said apologetically. “I meant three days.” He assured sceptically.

     “Sorry for yourself,” the IGP roared. “I want the culprit in my office within 72 hours.”

     “Yes Sir.”

     “Did I make myself clear?”

     “Yes Sir!” the CP reiterated.

     The die had been cast; no doubt, the clique was in deep trouble. It was only an imbecile that would not comprehend that going by the IGP’s order, his person was boiling immensely and the CP needed not to be told that 72 hours actually meant three days, and nothing more.

     How would the Police loosen this vertex of poignancy? Where and whom were they meant to go to? The paramount concernment was to discover the idiot fueling the movement of the Scorpion tattoo. Since it was obvious that ‘no smoke without fire’, every security expert understood that for a clique to operate fiercely and fearlessly, there must be a ghost in their midst; and undoubtedly the case of Scorpion tattoo wasn’t exceptional.

     Thereafter, having charged and challenged his men to step up their actions, the state CP, Mr Sule Ibrahim came up with a more viable strategy. A tight round-the-clock surveillance was set in the entire state and its environs.

     The most worrisome and intriguing point was that students weren’t mainly the prey of the syndicate; lecturers were not left out and most importantly, they (the lecturers) were the prime target.

     It wasn’t that the Police hadn’t been trying or proactive towards capturing the vandals, but each time they came up with a unique strategy the university’s Vice-Chancellor (VC), Prof P.O. Akpan would calm the team down by convincing them that the school management had concluded a different internal mechanism through which the cult would be subdued, all to no avail.

     But this time, the language had automatically changed. In view of the IGP’s directive, the Police were not going back in their decision to holistically track down the ‘fucking’ gang that had almost dominated the entire land.

     “We can do better!” Mr Ibrahim conscientized on the top of his voice while addressing his men in the state’s police headquarters.

     “Yes Sir!” They loudly chorused bitterly.

     From the look of their faces, they couldn’t wait to have the riffraff in their custody. To them, that was the most uncompromising tax they needed to pay.

     It was the following day, specifically on Thursday 16th of July 1998, after the mandate was issued to the CP; the 72-hour ultimatum was not unlike asking a banker in the marketing department, whom was still under probation, to consider losing his/her cherished employment if he/she fails to attract cash deposits amounting to one billion naira (#1b) or thereabouts within a week. To Mr Ibrahim, the handwriting was boldly and legibly inscribed on the wall, thus there was no iota of need for interpretation by a seer or whosoever.

     Amidst the state of emergency, terrors and perils were still unleashed in the university by the gang; the extremism of the nonentities kept everyone on the campus, particularly Professor Akpan, in a very jittery and comatose mood. Nobody knew what the fate of the next day entailed.

     “What have I done to deserve this?” Prof Akpan queried the clique in a hidden arena, precisely at night.

      It was the second night after the ultimatum was issued to Mr Ibrahim by his superior.

      It would depress and perhaps interest you to note that the VC of all people, Prof P.O Akpan was the brain behind the syndicate. He had vowed to make his leadership as well as the environment unbearable to any staff or student that intended to oppose his administration’s style and principles; against this backdrop, he thought it wise to set up the Scorpion tattoo to witch hunt any scapegoat.

     Unluckily to him, the Scorpion-tattoo grew so wild in the process that they weren’t only doing what they chose to but anything acceptable by them, rather than adhering to his instructions which was the basis of setting up the confraternity. Funnily enough, they were acting as if they owned the university which wasn’t unconnected to the fact that the head of the institution was the gang’s founder. Prof Akpan was left with no other choice than to ignore them or remain silent not until the night of the aforesaid date (July 16, 1998) when he decided to break his silence which was long overdue.

     “Prof,” the Capone called furiously amid the gathering. “Stay away from this.” He warned.

     With the look in his eyes likewise that of the other members, Prof Akpan needed not a soothsayer to inform his person that they were ready to waste his life if he dared proceeded with his persuasion or intended ‘sermon’.

      “I surrender.” The heated VC disclosed, raising his arms up.

      “Better for you.” The ugly looking Capone applauded in an unfriendly voice on behalf of the gang.

      His subjects gladly nodded unanimously.

      Barely six hours later, precisely on Friday 17th of July 1998 and the expiring day of the ultimatum, the clique excluding the Capone was captured by the relentless police squad in one of their hideouts in the bush. Consequently, the Capone alongside the big masquerade – Prof Akpan was arrested.

     “Prof…,” the IGP exclaimed in shock, spontaneously stood up from his office seat as soon as he caught the sight of the deceptive creature in the distance when he was brought to his office in Abuja in handcuffs. “Oh my God…!” He landed.

     Instantly, the general public wore a paralysed and pathetic physiognomy having ascertained that the highly respected VC was not just a misleading leader but a monster personified. The news went viral afterwards.

     If you were the IGP, what would you have done to the culpable VC the moment he (the VC) got to the point where the said police boss stood? Think about it!

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