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I Collected Blood Money for Love / Chapter 1: The Call That Changed Everything
I Collected Blood Money for Love

I Collected Blood Money for Love

Author: Antonio Klein


Chapter 1: The Call That Changed Everything

When you reach a dead end, no forget say road dey for back—and that road fit be crime. Remember, nothing dey shameful about am.

This be one of those old proverbs our elders go drop for night time gist, when moon dey shine and generator dey hum far away. Sometimes, the thing go sound like warning, other times e go sound like excuse. For Naija, everybody sabi say when hunger hold person for neck, e fit do things wey surprise even imself.

Plenty people don hear this kind talk before, but today, I wan use my own story show you: the road of crime no easy at all.

Na so e be. If you think say to follow bad road go bring easy money or quick escape, make you hear this my story. For this land, even crime no get easy path. E dey show pesin pepper pass garri, and sometimes, the wahala go long reach ten generations.

1

Eight years ago, I finish law school, na so I carry my first criminal case. The person wey hire me na my junior from university.

Law school wahala still fresh for my head that year. I dey hustle for court, still dey borrow wig and gown from my guy Kunle. When my phone ring and I see Chuka name, my mind first fly go those nights wey we dey chop beans for hostel, dey play draft for basketball court.

That case leave mark for my life wey I no fit forget.

E leave mark for my chest wey no go ever wipe. Up till today, anytime I pass that Makurdi roundabout, my heart go dey cut. My first case—wetin dey inside still dey burn me for body.

Make I talk am clear: this no be one kind case wey go make headline.

No be the type wey go make punch newspaper carry am for front page. Na normal Naija palava—no be politician matter, no be ritualist, no be kidnapping.

No be say dem kill person scatter body everywhere—no be say dem chop body give pig. No be those mad family matter—like say mother-in-law cut her daughter-in-law head. No be all those kain news wey dey trend for Facebook group or make people gather for evening gist.

Na just normal wahala wey fit happen to anybody for anywhere.

The kain wahala wey fit reach any compound, any agbero for bus park, or one labourer wey life just show pepper small.

One labourer kill person.

The thing happen August 14, 2014, for room 201 inside construction site workers' quarters in Makurdi.

Room 201—if you see the place ehn, even rat no dey smile. The air dey smell like old beans water, and the wall paint don chop finish like say rat dey use am sharpen teeth. One small mattress wey old pass the whole site. Mosquito dey use am do meeting. The day I go there with police, na there I understand say poverty fit make person do anything.

The killer call police by 3:00 p.m., talk the time and place wey the murder go happen, tell police make dem come arrest am.

As the man talk, I dey imagine police dey look each other, shock say who dey call them with confession. No be every day criminal dey get mind call police before e even do the thing finish.

As he dey talk, police dey try calm am down, but he just talk small, then hang up.

Na so some officer dey shout, "Oga, just stay there! No run o! We dey come now!" But another one quickly add: "Abeg, siddon gidigba, no try any mago-mago! We dey reach!" But the guy just quiet, drop call like say na nothing dey happen.

As soon as he drop call, the killer find rope, pass am through the iron hook wey dem use hang ceiling fan, tie one noose for one end.

Na old type ceiling hook—those iron ones wey dey bend. The rope na local one, wey dem dey use tie cement bag for truck. No be say e buy am for supermarket o; na pure hustle rope.

As the victim still dey sleep, the killer gently put the noose for him neck.

Dem say the victim dey do night shift previous day, so e dey sleep like person wey dem use charm. The killer walk go bed, put rope for neck as if e dey help am adjust pillow.

Then, from distance, he use all him power pull the rope down, like say dem dey drag tug-of-war. Like say dem dey drag for Sallah meat, the rope no gree loose for hand.

You know how village children dey play tug-of-war for Christmas compound? The killer just pull rope like that, veins stand for him hand, sweat dey roll for face. Person wey never see such thing go fear.

The rope tight for the victim neck, choke am, drag am from bed come hang for air.

Bed shift for ground, iron rail even shake. Small foam wey remain for mattress tear. As the man dey struggle, that rope grip am like python. E reach where all the shouting stop.

Normally, e dey take like five minutes to hang person die. For those five minutes, the victim go dey struggle—body go dey shake, eyes go red, he go dey hold him throat, dey find how to breathe.

Neighbour wey talk for court say he hear small groaning. But for that five minutes, na struggle between life and death. For Nigeria, dem say when struggle too much, ancestors fit dey look from spirit world.

For that five minutes, if the killer get small pity, if he loose the rope even for one second, the victim for survive.

Na true. For those five minutes, even breeze fit change mind. If killer just let go, victim go cough, breath go return. But no.

But the killer no gree, he wan really kill am.

E bite lip, dey shake, but no gree loose hand. Na that kain coldness wey dey shock person. E mean say person fit really carry bad thing reach this point?

After five minutes, the victim stop to struggle.

Body just drop still. Eye open, but life don waka. For that small room, air thick, like say even spirit no fit waka pass.

Two minutes later, by 3:18 p.m., police land. As dem open door, dem see big man dey hang for center of the room.

For Makurdi, na local police van wey dey old. Dem park anyhow, jump down, break door with leg. Officer Bello dey lead. As door open, na horror dem see.

The killer just siddon for lower bunk, dey tie rope for bed rail.

E no try run. Just dey fold rope like pesin wey dey think about market list. Face strong, eye empty.

Police grab am sharp sharp.

Dem no even shout. Na just handcuff, twist hand, drag am outside. Some worker for the site dey peep from window, dey murmur.

Later, dem ask am why he kill. Wetin he talk shock everybody:

Na just because two of dem push each other for site before, and he hold am for mind.

Na this kain small matter for Nigeria fit cause big wahala. But to reach this level? E shock everybody. Some officer even talk say, "Wetin dey this country?"

……

I talk am before say na my junior case be this.

He no be the victim. Na him be the murderer.

Him name na Chuka. We meet for basketball club. The harmattan before final year, he go work construction site to find small money—and na there e kill person.

Chuka. Slim boy, short afro, always dey wear that faded red jersey. Nobody ever see am raise voice for court. Him come from Ebonyi, small background, but sharp brain. I remember that time for court—he dey hustle extra shift to send money give small brother.

Five days after the thing happen, na him remember to call me.

The reason be say the lawyer wey court appoint for am no wan do the case, he don already dodge am many times.

Chuka fear say if that lawyer handle am, he fit mess am up for court.

To get better sentence, he need lawyer wey go really fight for am—na so he remember me.

Another reason be say:

Chuka parents don die, him family no get money, e no fit pay lawyer.

Na that kind situation for Naija—if your papa no get name, na only God and old friend fit show up. Money no dey, but hope still dey small.

That time, I no even sure why I gree do am. Maybe na because we know each other for school, maybe I no believe say he fit kill person. Anyhow, I just carry the case, my head still dey turn.

No be say I get plenty case that time. Maybe na pity hold me. Maybe na lawyer pride. But my mind dey heavy.

But as I really start the case, I realise say I don enter wahala.

Na true. That night, after I collect case file, sleep no gree me. Mosquito dey sing for ear, my heart dey beat like drum.

……

For law work, dem dey talk about 'win rate.' Plenty lawyers dey choose case wey dem fit win. I believe na wetin Chuka own lawyer dey do.

Makurdi no too big—everybody sabi everybody. Some lawyers dey run from wahala case. To protect their record, dem dey dodge anything wey go stain their white. Na so e be.

He no wan do the case because e no get hope—everything clear die.

The crime scene dey as e be.

The weapon dey there.

The suspect don talk everything.

Dem get both witness and evidence.

With this kind case, lawyer no fit do anything.

Talk less of me, wey just dey start my law work.

……

I spend three days dey read the case file, my head wan burst as I dey find any way to defend am.

My eye red, my jotter full. Even garri wey I soak, I forget drink. I dey find loophole, dey pray make small mistake dey somewhere.

Then I apply to visit Chuka for cell.

Prison for Makurdi na real ghetto. Smell of sweat, beans, and kerosene dey mix for air. Even fly dey hustle for space, and warders dey shout anyhow. I no sure say I fit wear that my white shirt go there again—na so e soak sweat.

As I meet Chuka for visitation room, the first thing wey I tell am be:

"You go chop at least life imprisonment."

My voice low. Na that kain way lawyer dey talk when e no get hope. I look am, my chest dey tight.

Chuka shock:

"How life go reach me? I turn myself in—I suppose get small mercy."

E mean say he call police because he dey hope say dem go pity am. E show say he no sabi law, so I explain:

"To surrender mean say you turn yourself in after you don do the crime. You call police before you do am. That one na plan to kill, e even worse."

He look like person wey regret, no wan gree:

"But I..."

Make he face reality, I tell am:

"To hang person dey take like five minutes. For that time, your mind suppose dey worry you. If you loose rope for any moment, the victim for live. But you no gree. You wan kill. Life imprisonment na the best wey fit happen."

"Life... mean say I go die for prison?"

"If you behave, dem fit reduce your sentence."

Chuka look me:

"If I behave, when I fit come out?"

"If everything go well, you fit come out after thirteen years."

As he hear this one, he just give up, drop head, beg me:

"Abeg, senior."

I look the back of his head. That time, I no fit understand:

How this quiet, gentle boy, wey dey always behave for school, go kill person because of small push?

I remember for hostel, if dem steal his slippers, e go just laugh. Now na murder? My chest dey tight as I dey look am, na only God know wetin dey his mind.

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