Six friends live up remarkable moments in their lives in this hilarious weekly thriller that entails suspense, intrigue, jealousy, friendship, pain and laughter as well as morals…….make a date to read  Every week the tale of an ambitious youth on this blog.

Loquacious Obinna (the narrator), intelligent Bola, Notorious Tega, Contentious Ebi, Conservative Yemi and Outgoing Yekini are bound to keep you glued to this script of their lives as it unfolds for you to understand what the average youth goes through, storms they weather and tasks they undertake for the sake of friendship and brotherhood……………of course when the BOYS ARE IN THEIR ELEMENTS, they are bound to be ambitious.

The soldiers called the driver to one corner.

I think they wanted to find out what had transpired in the vehicle, of course they knew we were heading for a burial venue, the poster was there, on the burnet for everyone to see.

After thirty-five minutes they returned to where we were lying faced down with shaky legs, sweating profusely, trembling infear.

The shot boy who supposedly must have lost pounds of blood was tolled into their Toyota Hilux vehicle and a few of them, the driver had boldly pointed out were taken up too.

 One of the soldiers, who had sounded like the commander all along ordered us to continue our journey but not without assigning two soldiers to join us for the remainder of the journey.

The journey was peaceful thereafter with no one making trouble, the funny ones made fun of the whole thing.

Some even asked the soldiers permission to sing some gospel tunes, while some cursed and swore in Igbo language, which I knew the Hausa soldiers from their diction might not understand.

As the singing continued, in no time we got to the venue, making known the presence of the Nigeria students by making unending noise as we got off the bus.

I met with the course rep to discuss appreciating the soldiers who accompanied us here.

With Michael’s younger sister, giving us a carton of beer and few bottles of wine for them after narrating our ordeal to her and alongside consensus agreement, we added some cash to the drinks we presented to the soldiers who thanked us and left in company of the driver.

I know the mister was scared to death in the event that unfolded in the bus and feared a repetition, so he refused taking us back after the burial.

Our plea fell on deaf ears as he reversed his bus to leave, wearing a “sorry” look; indeed he knows he had breached the contract.

He asked for part payment suggesting that we use his other part to add up to what we have to get another bus driver to take us back once we are done and in no time his vehicle was out of sight.

Well, we would think about what to do later but for now we are here and our focus should be to pay our last respect to our colleague.

The sister led the way, as we headed to the living room to console the family especially the poor woman, their mother, who from all indications had cried her heart out.

The course rep helped convey the general message of condolence as four more friends took turn to speak wisely.

We were directed to our canopy, minutes after, some of us made way to the graveside to pour sand and say “fare thee well broda”.

After that, other things followed, but students do not leave without refreshment.

The boys downed bottles after bottles of beer alongside the meals the family had presented us which some girls were assigned to share.

I joined those dancing to some beautiful tunes played by the live band at the other end, gyrating, jumping up and down in a mixed feeling of anger for a friend’s demise and intoxication, like alcohol gives joy largely in celebration of his life and times.

After doing the group dance, I returned to the canopy, to see that some had set their table apart, most noticeably flaunting some suspicious handshakes and red items, perhaps for identity, while the other group was busy hoisting a yellow flag.

Bola signaled me yet again, of trouble looming just around the corner stating the reason to be basically that Michael was a member to both rival groups.

I told him it was time to leave the scene.

Since there was no arrangement for another bus to return us to school, it was enough reason to go our way and that was exactly what we did.


When the weekend was over, on Monday the news had spread like wide harmattan fire round the whole school on what transpired between two rival cult groups at a burial of a colleague with both trying to claim supremacy.

His, was a case of a dog with two masters.

I had the opportunity to watch clips and saw the mayhem they wrecked on the dead body for treachery before the said youths of the village retaliated by chasing the boys to apprehend them and actually handed about eight of them to the police.

Others said the two opposing groups fought over supremacy in regards to the other side hoisting a flag, some stated shots were fired simultaneously with those who had voodoo power backing them standing their grounds, whilst others fled.

So many colliding stories emerging from different angles and many telling from the point they witnessed.

Someone said he saw me and Bola leaving the scene just when the other boys began hoisting the flag and that immediately we left, fourboys from the other table confronted the two doing the hoisting of the yellow flag.

The argument was centered on why the flag should be brought out in the first place.

The informant went further to state that members of the two groups watched from their different angles patiently-suspiciously watching the movie the six boys were involved in until the four, after beating up the two walked up the table of the “yellow” group to give the same scream we heard in the bus.

They had barely finished the scream for the third time, when bottles landed on their heads.

Three fled with deep cuts on their heads while one slumped to the floor, jerking in the pool of his blood and that was when it became an open battle.

The agitation started when shots got fired, Voodoo stepped in and only those who had the “odeshi” stood grounds before the youths with the help of the some powerful juju priests restored peace.

From the video clips, Michael’s body was mutilated as even the casket had cuts.

Some said to that effect, some of the angry boys did that for his treachery.

The confusing thing was how come the parts of the video the ‘juju priests’ were said to be conjuring turned out blank with no motioned pictures.

Many claimed they had recorded it but that part turned blank.

I would never believe that but had no other option than to accept it.

Many praised the exploits of the traditionalists and the youths in combating the boys while others shared in my disgust.

The incident was a talking point for two whole weeks……

From reliable source we were kept abreast with updates from the cold war, as the death of human beings became the order of the day valued in scores.

3-1, 5-4,6-8,9-8 and so on were scores of those who had dropped dead on account of cultism whilst those who knew the origin of the problem had fled the community, monitoring developments from their location leaving their comrades in oblivion to bear the weight of the grudge and revenge.

The known cultists in the BOYS PARLIAMENT HOSTEL had fledtoo, leaving just six of us.

Yekini, Bola, and Tega had travelled too, I intended staying behindas a free man but after the last visit of some fierce looking boys, my mind was made up to move out as well.


I was back in Warri with no concrete explanation to my people why I decided to return less than three weeks from my last homecoming.

I found myself at loggerheads again with my big sister over washing of bathrooms, sweeping of rooms, portions of food, washing and ironing of our parents’ clothes and so on.

Waiting for the coast to be cleared, I do wish to return to the hostel and resume in earnest.

Ebuka Kadin Hope is an upcoming musician and writer.

DISCLAIMER: Opinion expressed here are purely those of the writer and not of


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