They say the apple does not fall far from the tree, but I was the exception, or I was supposed to be. I grew up hating my parents, who died when I was only 4. They were known by many to be ruthless and fierce. They tried to shield me from that, but I guess I wasn't too young to see the patterns. When they passed, my grandparents took me in and kept me far from my parents' legacy. I hawked and hustled hard, like every kid who grew up on the rough streets of Lagos. I graduated with good grades, despite my side hustles. I became famous in my area because I was considered a smart kid. I remember how my neighbours used to call me genius, and even the strong men in my area tagged me Sabi Pikin, and I wasn't to be harmed by any rival group.
I landed a job at a marketing firm, and I was certain I would make magic.
A few months into the job, I received four offers from three top-tier universities in the UK to study my dream course. I was overwhelmed, and for the first time in my life, I felt like things started to fall into place.
I had planned to resign at the end of a particular project at work so I could focus on doubling my hustle and raising funds to pay my deposit and secure my admission. I resumed work the week before my notice period ended and heard that some company items were missing. Now I wasn't very worried because I thought I wouldn't be questioned because I wasn't in charge of the items, but I was in that department. The following day, some policemen showed up at work and started questioning people. Normally me and Olopa no get business but I had to just respond to questions to fulfil all righteousness.
Before I knew it, I was told that I would be taken to the station for further questioning. I dragged out the issue, stating boldly that I am innocent. I told my boss that I could not go to the station because of my Japa plans, but he bluntly told me that I was a key suspect. He said that it's possible that I sold the items to fund my visa application; besides, the son of a thief is also a thief.
He basically made me the chief suspect over an issue I had no idea about.
The police made things worse by using my parents' legacy to taunt me. My old grandparents pleaded on my behalf, but to no avail. The streets heard of my plight and raised money to bail me out, but I was thrown into prison without being found guilty of any crime.
I wept for days, and my entire life flashed before me. The deadline for my deposit payment had passed, and I had given up on my plans. Three days before my release, I met an old colleague of my dad who told me about my dad and the reason he became the man he was before he died. My dad was betrayed by the government and used as a scapegoat. He resorted to violence as a means of survival. I vowed that day to cause pain to all those who stole my future from me. I was baptised fully with the street OT, and I guess my destiny changed.
I became omó èsan- the son of vengeance.
When I went home, everyone who saw me knew I had changed. The strong men in my hood stepped back and said I had finally embraced my destiny. My grandparents wept for me because I became the very thing they spent their remaining year protecting me from.
I went to my former boss's favourite chilling spot and gave him a surprise smile! He couldn't even recognise me. I was buff, and my hoody kept me a mystery. I called him "Final Boss," a name no one else but me called him at work.
He was shocked to see me in the flesh. The scars on my face must have scared him, but that was only the beginning. He stood there looking at me in fear, and I reminded him of the time he stole from me. He called me Ayo and tried to apologize, but it was too late. I had already embraced my destiny. He didn't bother to release me even when they had found the actual thief. I told him today wasn't his day, but I would take from him more than he took from me. I looked him in the eye and told him I am Ésan, the son of vengeance.
I walked away knowing that he would lose his sleep and fellowship with his worries. That made me happy because he would have a taste of what prison felt like. I noticed he had upgraded his security detail, and word got out that he was going to leave the country with his family for security reasons. He handed over his company to his younger brother to run.
He who knows the street will not run aimlessly. I waited patiently for him to think he would finally be free.
His flight was at 8 p.m., and I knew fear would make him lodge close to the airport. I followed him to the hotel and planted one of my ladies there. They say something must kill a man, right? Well, his Akilis Hill was a fair, curvy woman. He tried his luck with the lady, and she played along. He sent his guard to pay for another room, and that was our opportunity.
We snatched him, drugged him, and placed him in a wheel chair. We rolled him out carefully and took him to where his story would end.
He woke up tied up and in shock.
He screamed for help, and he kept weeping.
I told him that the sins of the father would be met by the son and that my vengeance would fall on his entire family.
He kept begging for mercy—the very thing he didn't give me.
I leaked the news of his kidnapping to Tunde Ednut, and it was trending on Twitter.
My guys started a live video on Twitter, and I made him confess to the entire world.
I asked the viewers to judge him based on a poll, and the majority asked for his death.
But I knew that constant fear was worse than death.
Over 4 million people had joined the live video, and the hashtag "ésan" was trending.
I did the unexpected.
I dropped his location on the live feed and walked away with my crew.
The authorities arrived on the scene after we had left. The location was flooded with an angry mob that connected my boss to their problems. My story became a source of strength for other young people, and in a matter of weeks, the entire nation was in chaos. People took to the streets to demand their rights and the removal of corrupt officials. Strong men assembled under one umbrella with the goal of fighting the oppressors.
The international community predicted an impending collapse in my nation because of the state of affairs. Many built statues for me and wrote songs about me. Those in the other camp felt my methods were too extreme and unlawful.
The government is still looking for me, and they think I am on the run. They have no idea that I am no longer a person but an idea, a force, and a philosophy.
I am my father's son, Ésan—the son of vengeance.
To be continued......
OMÓ ÉSAN
By
Samuel Ibok