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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