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On The Run (A Blockbuster Series) / My Life On Campus... (A MUST READ!!!) / Love-life On Campus (2) (3) (4)
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Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Sugarbabekemi(f): 9:37am On Nov 11, 2013 |
Seriously wat pple can do for money, I'm definitely followin! Good write up, thumbs up! |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by FoxyOsamadeen(m): 10:02am On Nov 11, 2013 |
komek: I am there too ooo.. But you know na... Let's keep things alive here |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 12:00pm On Nov 11, 2013 |
incredible.kip it up |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 4:33pm On Nov 11, 2013 |
Oga Zuby can you please help me with the registration? I succeded in registering once but since then I 've been unable to login. My email is waxxykola@gmail.com . Thanks! |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:06pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
Chapter 17 There were different types of how we lived in Amsterdam. It all depended on how much money you have. Level 1: Those who rented three bed room duplex. This type of house has three rooms upstairs, then Parlour, Kitchen and toilet downstairs. It was just like the typical duplex our so called big men built back in Nigeria. The Dutch government after demolishing some of the hexagonal grid houses, had embarked on building these types of duplex. Their major intention was to attract the middle class income earners down to Bijlmer since the suburb was originally occupied by poor people. The duplex went from €1400 to €1600 depending on the area. Level 2: This types of apartments contained three rooms and parlour but not duplexes. It was just like the typical three bedroom and parlour obtained in Nigeria. It contained three rooms, a parlour, kitchen and toilet all in the same floor. These types went as from €900 to €1200 monthly. Level 3: These types were two bed rooms and a parlour. A typical flat apartment with toilet/s, a kitchen and others. Level 4: These groups of apartments contained just a room and a parlour. They were specially designed by the dutch government for single men and women who were interested in living alone comfortably. Level 5: The typical one room self- contain with toilet and kitchen, specially made for students everywhere in the World. We had Nigerians in every level of the houses in Amsterdam. There were some big boys who pushed large amount of drugs daily or weekly or every two days depending on how rich they were. These group hardly allowed anyone into their circle. They saw newcomers as nuisance forgetting that there was a time they were also new comers. They also paid up for small apartments elsewhere, where they measured and inspected drugs before moving them. These group hated the next group who lived in the ordinary three bedroom flats. They were almost in direct competition. The second group hated the first ones as well. The two groups hated the third group, the three groups hated the fourth group which comprised of newcomers and people with little or no capital. On Sundays, they would all go to the same Church. On Saturday Morning, you would see all of them trying to play football in the same field too. On Saturday morning, if you belonged to group one, you were guaranteed to play whether you knew how to play or not. If you belonged to group two, you would play as well. But the group three and four would either play later or watch the fat group one group play. There also some group of aspiring footballers who came to Europe to play football but somehow ended up not getting resident permit on time. In Europe, if you didn’t have the documents, no club would look at you unless you are extra ordinarily good. The European made some laws that restricted the immigrants to second class human beings. My fellow Africans knew this but poverty and embezzlement back he didn’t help matters. Since i Belonged to the last group, i never bothered to play football. They won’t chose me. They didn’t know me. I was a nobody. I was just one of those people who came to disturb the big boys. The self-acclaimed big boys would snub you with every little opportunity they got. We Blacks were hated by the Surinames and Antilleans who were also blacks. We Africans were also hated by the whites who owned the land. The worst of it all was that we hated ourselves. No matter what you were going through, nobody would be willing to give you any money to solve your problems, rather they would talk about how silly you were for getting yourself into the mess in the first place. As i stood in the middle of the field one Saturday morning, a man called me. He said he was looking for someone to give one room in his three bedroom flat. He asked me to help him locate a good person. I didn’t want to tell him that i wanted a place, we just exchanged phone numbers and went our different ways. Two days later, i called him. His name was Chidi but i called him Oga Chili. He lived in a house called Kikkenstein; another of the large hexagonal grid houses built by the Dutch government. Kikenstein had 1000 apartments in a 10 storey building. There were many Nigerians living in the building. When i called Oga Chidi two days later, he asked me to come to Kikenstein. Oga Chidi lived with a woman he claimed to be his wife. They had no children yet. He lived there with Spanish resident permit as was hundreds of other people. ”Let me show you the room” he said. I followed him to a neatly decorated room with bed, electric heater and a table. It was such a nice hideout. He said that i would be paying €300 monthly which was a good deal. However, my little concern was that i didn’t know what he did. I needed a place where drugs flowed in and out. Another glitch was that his so called wife was still very young. She was in her early twenties. I was never going to approach her but what if she approached me? I believed i was going to reject her approach but sometimes things didn’t work out the way we wanted. I wanted to know why Chidi approached me in the first place. The way it worked in Amsterdam, one can only approach a person he knew very well if he wanted t give out a room. But Chidi had approached me. Since we paid monthly, i decided to take the place. If things didn’t work out after one month, i would definitely move. I paid him for the house and told him that i would move in the next day. He was happy. Oga Chidi was from Enugu State too. He was from Nkanu Area. According to him, he had lived in Europe for 15 years, had gotten Spanish documents three years earlier and had decided to relocate to Amsterdam to make money. When i got home, i told Robin that i would move the next day to a new room but that i would be visiting him whenever i wanted. We brought out a bottle of Hennessy and celebrated our scam. I had sent Junior his €500 and gave Robin his own. I had over €5000 remaining. “Accept responsibility for your life. Know that it is you who will get you where you want to go, no one else.” 2 Likes 1 Share |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:08pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
18: STAY CLOSE TO YOUR ENEMIES Chapter 18. I met Dozie at the gym for the first time in weeks. I had gone to Western Union to send €500 to Jennifer in Berlin. I had initially told her that i won’t be giving her money but the occasion was different. Jennifer had given birth to a boy. According to her, She had Called the boy ‘Azubuike’ after me. Her boyfriend had objected initially but had eventually came to terms with the name. According to Jennifer, she had never seen or met a person who possessed the kind of heart and mind i had. She said she would like her baby boy to take after me when he grew up. I didn’t know what her plans were but i was compelled to send them the money as gift. It wasn’t easy for a young lady of her age to give birth to a healthy baby under her current condition. ”Guy long time no see” Dozie had said as soon as i came into the gym. I knew the gym house at Gazenhoef metro station very well. That was where half of the Nigerians in Amsterdam worked out. If i were to stay close to Dozie, i needed to start working out in the gym as well. ”Yea, long time. I hope everything is Ok with you”. I said with a smile. I gave him a picture of a well to do young man. I knew that things were getting more difficult in Amsterdam. A lot of the neighbouring European countries had amended their border laws. It had become difficult for black birds to move around freely like before. As a result, the price of raw cocaine had dropped to €26 per gram. Most of The retailers in the neighbouring countries had somehow decided to lay low. It also meant that they seized most of the money since an average Nigerian usually loved to make decisions when he has money in his hand. ”I want to register here, just give me a minute, i am coming” i said to Dozie. I walked up to the counter and registered. Registration was €20 but the monthly payments was €50. After registration, i waited up for Dozie to finish. On our way home, he asked what was happening with me. I told him that everything was going well. ”I move stuffs to England now, they pay better in Liverpool than other neighbouring cities” i had said. He said that the Dublin people owed him a huge amount of money and that he would like to put something for me when he got some money from them. ”How can i say no, you are my boss here remember” i said. We smiled over that and went our separate ways. Oga Chidi gave me a set of keys. It meant that i always entered the apartment whenever i wanted. He and his girl Ify liked me a lot. I wasn’t a noise maker. I would stay indoors with my laptop and browsed until there was something to do outside. On that afternoon back from first day at gym, i had opened the door and Saw Ify out of the bathroom. She had just finished her bath and had tied a towel above her chest to cover her boobs. The towel did not cover her soft and well maintained yellow thighs. Her buttocks was almost naked too. I took a quick glance and threw my face away. ”Why are you looking away As if you have never seen a naked woman” she said. I had no direct answer to that question, therefore i just smiled and kept quiet. Oga Chidi had gone to Switzerland to recover his money. He left the day before and had surprisingly, asked me to take care of Ify. He didn’t call her ”my wife” as one would have expected. He just said ”Take care of Ify, i will be back before one week” As soon as i entered the room, Ify knocked and pushed the door open at once. She was still tying that short towel around her body. This time, She was carrying a plate of Breadfruit porridge. ”I bought this Ukwa at Krainest shopping mall this morning and prepared it. Since you are the oga in the house now, here is your own” she said. Rejecting the food would bring about some kind of argument which would in turn, prolong her stay in my room. The mere looking at her thighs had started getting my mind excited. ”Keep it for me on top of the table” i said. ”Won’t you say Thanks first” she said. Apparently she was looking for a way to prolong her stay in the room. ”Oh sorry dear, thanks” i said. She kept the food on the table and turned to go. ”Chidi said i could come and learn computer with you when you are free. I told him that i want to Learn it” she said. I didn’t know the best answer to give her, therefore i kept quiet. If i agreed out of the desire to see her leave the room, it could be counter productive since i didn’t want her near me. I had known that a day like this would come. But what was Chidi thinking before approaching me for a house? It wasn’t such a good idea to leave a cat and a rat in the same room. But Chidi had done that. Or maybe he had a plan all along. I may have been the fool altogether. ”Hmm, you know i don’t have time. I will give you the laptop to study on your own, i want to read those books” i said as i pointed to three John Grisham novels i had bought the previous day. ”You know i don’t know anything about computer. You will show me. I am coming” she said as she opened the door and stepped out. That was it. I was leaving the house even before the expiration of my rent. I knew how such things worked. If we got close enough, we would kiss one day, then touch and before you know it, we would be naked on the same bed. And once we did it, it would continue until Chidi finds out one day. I was still planning on when and how to leave when my door opened again without a knock. ”I am ready now” Ify announced as she threw herself on my bed and opened up the laptop. She was wearing a short skirt with a transparent blouse that showed her bra. ”I am waiting oh” she said, since i didn’t want to say anything. The next thing i knew was a hand around my neck. She pulled me down slowly until i lay on the bed with my back. ”Ify wait first, i want to……” i was saying as her lips lowered and covered mine. She kissed away. I didn’t respond initially but when i recalled that i haven’t touched a woman in months, i opened up my mouth. “Challenges are what make life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.” 3 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:10pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
19: PEOPLE OF AMSTERDAM Chapter 19. ”Tell me, when did you and Chidi get married”? i asked after the first round of Kisses. She said nothing. She just lowered her lips again and started kissing away. Right there under Ify, i remembered the Biblical story of Joseph and Potipher’s wife. The story had it that Potipher’s wife wanted to sleep with Joseph but Joseph refused. She had gone to Potipher and claimed that Joseph wanted to sleep with her by force. As a result, Potipher had thrown Joseph in the prison. Was i going to be thrown to prison if i pushed Ify out? The obvious answer was ‘No’. The only thing that could happen was to be asked to leave the house if Chidi found out. But the way i saw things then, Ify was unto something. She had always been looking at me strangely and invitingly. It was her golden chance to see Chidi traveled out of the country. I had asked her when they got married because i expected her to give me a date, which will make me push her away with pretence that i can’t touch somebody’s wife, but her response shocked me. They were not Married. She had come from Paris and met Chidi while looking for a house. Chidi had given her one room but since rat and cat can’t share the same room, they had started being intimate. Unfortunately, she said that Child’s Manhood hardly got up and that when it does, it would fall again in a minute. It was a pathetic story but i didn’t know what to say. Her hands were already on my manhood and the entire sense of reasoning inside of me had left through the window. I was going to do it. It almost felt like doing her a favour because, She couldn’t just go outside and bring in a man into the apartment. She also couldn’t go and sleep outside. The whole piece had started to come together. Chidi had planned that all along. She had intentionally brought me to the house to satisfy the girl or probably get her pregnant, which i believed they wanted. I had decided to watch how things unfold. One thing i was sure was that Chidi as an Igbo man, knew that i would definitely sleep with Ify in his absence. He knew that Ify would trick me into sleeping with her and that i would not be able to resist that body. Little wonder why he had given her go ahead to study computer in my room as if i was Microsoft or IBM. My entire cloths had been stripped off my body without my approval. She was going to rape Ozoigbondu. Maybe i should shout and attract people to come and help me or peharps go to the Police later on or even forgive her later. Yea, that was it, i would forgive her later but at that moment, not even an Earthquake would stop me. My entire system had responded to her touches and even when i remembered that i had no condom, i made no attempt at stopping her. Her mouth had gone down to my private part and was squeezing it, my two hands had found two soft oranges on her chest and was doing justice to it too. My phone had rang but i made no attempt to reach it. I didn’t care if it was Escobar himself calling me from Colombia. Over forty minutes after we started, we lay beside each other on the bed panting. She was a sweet lady who knew how to bring out the best in a man. ”You understand you virtually forced me to do this” i said. She smiled and stroked my nose as if we were lovers. ”No, you forced me to do this. I have been wanting to do this for long but had no opportunity” she said. We were still on the bed when Chidi called her from Zurich. He said he won’t be coming back in a week since he wanted to go to Madrid to check whether his documents were still working. It turned out to be that all those with Spanish papers needed to find someone to work with those papers. If after five years, the authorities discovered that the paper they gave you didn’t work and pay tax, they would kill the paper and refuse to renew it. It would simply mean that you no longer possessed any legal documents. Therefore, the resident permit holders in Spain needed to always make sure that their papers were paying taxes by registering for a work. Ironically, it also meant that i could get stuck with Ify for a month or even more. She would probably get pregnant by then since she had encouraged me to release inside her. It seemed she obviously wanted a child. Maybe she didn’t want to go the way of majority of the Nigerian ladies in Amsterdam. Most of the Nigerian ladies i knew in Amsterdam were getting old without being married. Some were already in their 50s while some were heading to late 40s. These were women who came to Europe to look for money through prostitution. However, by the time they realised they were getting old, they would change country and start acting ‘good wife material’ crap. They were scattered all over Amsterdam, selling foods inside their apartments. Some even had children out of Marriage. I knew quite a few of them who still sold their bodies to be able to pay house rent. It was hell for them and sometimes i wondered why they chose to remain there. I would have preferred that they traveled back home to look for husbands but each and everyone one of them had her own excuses why she can’t go home. The Nigerian men in Amsterdam were also people who left one country or the other to settle in Amsterdam. The last thing on their minds was marriage. Since most didn’t have Holland resident permit, marrying a black woman there was a silly burden. The issue was that the Dutch authorities could invade anybody anytime and sent you back to wherever you came from. As a result, men were cautious to tie themselves down with such serious things as Marriage. As a woman, if you give birth to a child in Holland without being a legal immigrant, your child would get no benefit from the government. You would be on your own. As a result, our women were just wasting their lives over there and due to what people would say if they returned home, they had decided to stick around in Amsterdam and bid their time. It was left for me to find out what Ify and Chidi had planned. ” Its hard to wait around for something you know might never happen; but its harder to give up when you know its everything you want.” 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:12pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
20: NO FORGIVNESS IN HELL Chapter 20. ”Do you know anybody who have Chile brown” i asked Dozie on the phone. Chile brown was a strong brownish Cocaine. It usually came on powdered form. It was one of the best raw cocaine in the market. Chile brown when mixed with the white Ntugwa, turned into milky colour which was exactly what the United Kingdom market demanded. ”One of my guys said he received one bag yesterday” Dozie said. One Kilogram was referred to as one bag by Nigerians. I asked how much it was sold. It was true that the price had dropped from €30 to €26 but the Chile stuff still sold for €30. It was scarce unlike the ones that arrived from Brazil and Colombia. The major reason behind the scarcity was that the population of black people in Chile was very small unlike Brazil and Colombia. A historical research i carried out revealed that Chile and Argentina were the two South American Countries that hated blacks. History also had it that at a time in the past, the whites in those countries murdered all the blacks there. In the present time, the fact remained that in Politics, no black man contested for any post in those two countries. It was also obvious in sports, where no black man could be seen playing for Argentina and Chile football national teams. Although it seemed that those unwritten rules were being relaxed, but still it was such a good thing to know important details of whatever country you wanted to visit. Dozie said that the price was €30. I expected that. ”I will need 150grams” i said. He told me to come to his house in an hour so that he would have enough time to go and bring it. I agreed. An hour later, i was cooking the stuff in his house to determine its quality. ”Where are you sending it” Dozie asked me. ”Eliza” i replied. Eliza was the name given to the entire United Kingdom, it was a code name derived from Queen Elizabeth. Other counties had their own code names as well. USA was Bush (George Bush). Ego Bush meant Dollar. France was Chirac. Brazil was Pele. Holland was Alanso, holy land. Germany was Hitler. Italy was known as Pope. Cocaine was Ahia Ocha or Alhaji White. Heroine was Ahia Ojii or black. Every other drugs had code names. Every Nigerian knew the codes since it was the operational names. You dare not mention cocaine or dollars or any other incriminating name on the phone. You just use the codes. After checking the Chile brown in Dozie’s house, i paid him. He asked me when i would be sending the stuff to Eliza and when i told him it was the next day, he said he would prepare 100 grams and add for me. 100 grams wasn’t much. I believed he wanted to try me. As a result, i agreed. I would definitely know what to do. When i got home, i made calls and searched for people who wanted cocaine. Fortunately, Basil, one of the big buyers wanted some goods. I went and sold the Chile white to him. He gave me the exact amount i bought it. I only lost the €5 transportation fares. I called Dozie in evening and asked if he was Ready. He was. I drove to his place and picked up the 100. I had warned him not to mix anything in it. His cost price was €3000. However, after three days, i went and returned €4500 to him. I told him that my contact had returned the money from Liverpool. He was very happy and excited. He thought that the way to Make money had just opened up. He gave me €200 as gift and asked when next i would be sending something to my contact. ”I don’t know, i will let you know when he is ready” i said and left him. Dozie was mathematically with my €1300. I was going to get it back. I had just set a trap with the money for him. Nobody knew what i had done. Amsterdam was full of tricks. The bad guys were making money locally. It was all a matter of witts. Whatever plan that worked for you was fine, as long as you made money in the end. One also had to be very careful. There were some amount of drugs that could instigate the owner to hire the gunmen for you. I had decided to scam Dozie quite alright but it wasn’t going to be more than €6000 or €7000. People hardly wanted you dead for that kind of money. I had woken up one day and decided to increase my total money to atleast €10,000, that was the major reason behind the business with Dozie. I waited for one week before calling Dozie. ”Guy, i am moving things to Liverpool tomorrow” i said. I had met Dozie in the gym that morning but didn’t tell him anything. I wanted to make things look like i had just gotten the green light from my contact in Liverpool. One of my strongest blessings was the ability to retain information off hand. I knew all the country codes in Europe and Africa. I also knew majority of the country codes in the World. I had somehow managed to locate the British Yellow page on the internet. I had browsed in it until i located phone numbers belonging to people with Nigerian names. There were mostly Yoruba names. I was also very good at names. I knew the origin of every European and Nigerian names. I would have made a good police detective. I Had found one Adewale who lived in Liverpool. His name and home address were listed on the yellow page of 2005. I had tried the number and it wasn’t connecting. I had tried some other numbers but they all connected, it meant that those people still lived in those addresses and still used that line. But the Adewale’s number wasn’t connecting. Either that he had moved and abandoned the phone line or that the advent of Mobile phones had instigated him to abandon the land line. Adewale was my escape route. Te next day, Dozie prepared 250 grams of the stuff. It stood at €7500. It was more than i wanted but it was fine. If i subtracted my €1300, the money would come down to the very amount i wanted to take from him. He had tormented me and pushed me out of his house without teaching me anything. It was time to pay for that behaviour. The foolish man from Enugu would continue to teach them how to be nice, only that i used widely unacceptable methods. “One of the most important keys to Success is having the discipline to do what you know you should do, even when you dont feel like doing it.” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:14pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
21: IFY, MY EMERGENCY WIFE Chapter 21. ”Do you know his name” Dozie had asked. He was asking of Mr Segun Adewale who had mysteriously disappeared with our drugs. According to the discussion, my own stuff was 300 grams while Dozie had contributed 250 grams. The venue was Dozie’s house. It was necessary that i went to his house to deliver the news properly. I had already called him on the phone and told him that our contact had stopped responding. I had waited for three days before breaking the news. Robin and his friend had followed me to Dozie’s house. I took them along due to the fact that Dozie could decide to get violent. I never trusted him. ”Yes, i know his name. My cousin who lived in London told me his name” i said. ”I thought you said it was Liverpool” Dozie suddenly asked. Smart guy. I Expected him to grab that little lose line. A sinking man always grabbed everything in his way. ”Yes, my cousin IK worked in Liverpool before relocating to London, he was the person who gave me Segun’s contact” i said. I wrote ‘Adewale Olusegun’ on a paper and handed it to Dozie. He demanded for the phone number and i gave it to him too. He said he would send it to a lawyer to find out if the man was captured by the Police. Who cared, one thing with drug business was that as soon as someone began to tell you negative stories, the whole thing escalated from there and it usually ended to nothing. I had sold the drugs at €29/gram and realised €7250. Robin’s friend didn’t know that it was a scam, therefore he got nothing. Robin knew what i did but also refused to accept anything from me. He had called me into his room and advice me to stop that line of local scam, according to him, someone would find out one day and that would alienate me in the entire Bijlmer. He was right. I was done with the local Scam. One thing Robin didn’t know was that it was for revenge. I never ever thought about hurting anybody who didn’t hurt me. I hardly thought about people who were not involved with me one way or the other. When i got home from Robin’s place, i called Jennifer in Berlin and asked how she was doing with the baby. They were fine according to her. I had also been in constant communication with Efuah, my ex girlfriend who lived in London. Princess had started grade school and was brilliant. We would chat through yahoo messenger for hours. She had given birth to another boy and girl. She sent me their pictures too. She was also surprised that i wasn’t married yet. She had constantly advised me to forget about money and get married. I had joked that since she left my life, i wasn’t interested in marrying any other woman. She believed i was serious, or maybe i was. Life was such a complicated road with lots of signs. Ify knew nothing about computer. I didn’t know where to start teaching her. It took her five days to learn how to shut a windows laptop down. She had given up. All she did was ride me every now and then. I was afraid she would get pregnant, which could result in a Tussle between me and Chidi. I wasn’t going to leave any of my issues to anybody again. Ify was about 24. I myself was heading to 27. I could marry her, though i had always wanted to marry someone who was atleast 7 years younger. But things usually didn’t work out the way we planned it. ”What if you get pregnant” i had asked Ify one day after being intimate. She said she would carry the pregnancy and give birth to the baby/s. I had asked her who would own the baby/s between me and Chidi. She had tactically given me a vague answer. ”Lets wait until then” she had said. People had started seeing us together around Bijlmer. Since the gossip in the area was huge, i would hire a snoda and drive with Ify to Utrecht or Almere. Utrecht was 30 minutes away while Almere was 10 minutes away. She would buy ice creams and tried to feed me like lovers. I had tried to Make her understand that i was never created to live that way. We were already in the Summer. I had become lazy and stopped dealing on drugs for some weeks. I was busy spending the money i got from Dozie. I was careful not to make big expenses. I was also not interested in sending drugs to anybody outside Holland. If any of them out there wanted to deal on drugs, he should raise money and sent to me. Chidi had somehow married Ify for me. I had become an emergency husband. She had stopped sleeping anywhere else except my room. She would wash my cloths and do all the house works. However, she knew that i wasn’t ready to settle down. During one of our numerous escapades, she said that she would leave Chidi and follow me if i found a place of my own. She wasn’t really into Chidi. Europe had confused her. She never saw me dealing on drugs and she wondered how i made my money. Unknown to her, i had mapped out €1500 for her expenses. I would give her €10 or €5 whenever she demanded for it. I would also buy foodstuff since Chidi had decided to abandon her in Amsterdam. Europe wasn’t a place for enjoyment, it was a war front. Anybody could find himself anywhere anytime. It was just as easy as that. The system wasn’t conducive for us. The laws were made to enslave us mentally. It was only through crime that most Nigerians made their living. The minimum wage for unskilled labour was very small. It couldn’t even pay for house rent, health insurance, utility bills and remained for food. Therefore every body embraced drugs, even those who claimed to be born again Christians. I just wondered how those people managed to be at peace with themselves. I had found a newspaper in Amsterdam that featured African articles. I sent them a mail asking them if they would be featuring articles on comedies. After reading my samples, they agreed. However, they said i won’t get paid for the first two months. I didn’t care. It wasn’t for the money. I just needed an avenue to express the lives of Black men in Amsterdam through Jokes and comedy. It was such a good avenue. Life as a writer started from there. 4 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 5:15pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
22: THE USELESS EMBASSIES Chapter 22. Life went on as usual. There was really nothing productive being done by the blacks to help the society we lived. It wasn’t our fault since the system alienated us. Since i had taken to writing articles in the newspaper, i started walking around Bijlmer to interview people. I would ask questions which half of the people were afraid to answer. Some thought that i was working for the Dutch authorities while some knew that i was working on liberating the mindsets of our people. We were being subdued on daily basis. We were relegated to the lowest level of humanity. The Dutch authorities had no respect whatsoever for the Africans. The police would burst our parties and arrest people, sent them to deportation camps and deported them without anybody protesting. Everybody was scared. The Police would go to Churches and disrupt the services, arrest worshipers and send them to prison; nobody would say anything. The only place we protested was among ourselves. We would gather in beer parlours and condemn the acts but it usually ended there. There was one incident that happened at a Church belonging to a Ghanaian man. The police had bursted into the Church and arrested people. The Church was located at a place called Verein Stuartveg. An African photographer known as Alhaji, was at the vicinity the very day they came to the Ghanaian’s Church. Alhaji had taken some pictures of the incident. The Dutch police had arrested him and seized his camera. They had also beaten Alhaji mercilessly for taking the pictures. I had met with Alhaji at a hair saloon that belonged to an Igbo man. Alhaji was a Ghanaian with Dutch resident permit, therefore i told Alhaji to get a lawyer and take up the case. Some other Nigerians at the saloon had told him never to try that. They were already defeated. That was how we lived in a society that didn’t know how we felt. We were the major problems against ourselves. Those who had legal documents believed that a God somewhere had blessed them and as a result, they should not even attempt to associate themselves with the troubles of those without documents. They never believed that injustice anywhere was injustice everywhere. Despite Eastern Germany being known as racist area, Netherlands were the worst. I never witnessed such discrimination in all the years i spent in Germany. Of course discrimination existed in Germany but the authorities were very hard on it. The Bundes Government would punish any individual who racially discriminated against coloured people. But in Netherlands, it was the individuals that associated with the coloured people more. The government were the ones discriminating against the coloured. In many occasions, people had fallen from high buildings. It was rumoured that the special trained police pushed black people off the buildings sometimes. In Bijlmer alone, i have seen and known numerous black men with clutches and broken legs and arms. When asked them what happened, they would tell you They were pushed down from a high building by some men who covered their faces. The commando police squad usually covered their faces like terrorists. They never wanted anybody to recognize them. I recalled one incident that happened in the very building where i lived. The building was called Kikkenstein. On Wednesday 13 May 2009, A team of commando police raided the building. I lived on the 6th floor of the building. We woke up that morning to see a corpse behind the building. It was covered with white cloth. The cops had invaded an apartment at the 9th floor. No one could tell what happened. All we were told was that four people had jumped out of the apartment and one had died instantly. The rest were rushed to the hospital. News had filtered in that one of them died even before getting to the hospital. The government had sent black police men from Suriname to manage the crisis since they feared that the black community could revolt against white policemen who had apparently commited the invasion. Their excuse was that they heard that people were dealing on drugs inside the apartment. I on my own side, knew that Nigerians were never silly enough to jump down from the 9th floor of a high rise building. It was unheard of. Nigerians loved life and would prefer prison rather than death. It was only the Arabs who could attempt such things. The Question was , how could four young men jump down from a 9th floor? The answer was that it wasn’t possible. Every single Nigerian i interviewed said that they would never even jump from a second floor let alone the 9th. But who would talk for us? The people involved in the jumping were all from the same state. One was from Oraifite while the rest where from Nnewi, all from Anambra state. They were my brothers who left Nigeria to look for good life and money elsewhere. I had instantly called for a protest walk to the police station at the Gazenhoef but people had asked me not to show myself too much or they would target me later. That was how we lived in a society that never wanted or liked us. Back then in Nigeria, Shell oil company happened to be the largest. They declared billions of dollars in profits every year. They never cared about the people who owned the lands where the oil was being produced. All they cared about was to bribe our government officials who never cared about its citizens back home let alone those in foreign countries. Sometimes, i just boiled inside but there was nothing i could do. I remember going to Den Hague to complain some issues to the ambassador. The useless ambassador had advised me to stay out of their way and asked me to leave the embassy. There was nothing i could do except write my jokes. I exaggerated the everyday lives of our people through jokes but they never read the real meanings. They only read the jokes about what the tortoise said and laughed over it. I wondered when tortoise began to talk. That was our life in Amsterdam. That was how we lived. It was a pity. ” I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Dhortunn(m): 8:31pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
Oga Zuby, keep writing sir, we'll keep following. I'm so enlightened tonight by these posts. |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by sconp: 10:04pm On Nov 13, 2013 |
Following |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 2:48pm On Nov 16, 2013 |
Chapter 23. It was true that things were difficult back in Nigeria. The government was headed by criminals who should have been locked up in prisons. Every government agency was crippled with corruption. The problem lied with the central government which was stronger than the regional governments. In a country like Nigeria where we had many ethnic groups, the central government was supposed to be weak. Each region should have been managing themselves since they spoke almost the Same language, eat the same thing and used the same routes to travel. There was no way they could not be inspired to develop their region. But instead, the entire resources were being controlled in Abuja which incidentally contributed nothing to the economy of the country. There was no way people wouldnt be agitated and angry. As a result, a region who felt cheated had taken up arms, blowing pipelines and kidnapping foreign workers. Things will always be that way until we discard the foreign style of government and discover what will work for us. This system of government was the same problem in Spain where the Catalunya region had been agitating for secession. In contrast, the government was the reason why our people suffered those fates in foreign lands. If our system was good, half of the people living in foreign countries would definitely prefer to stay back in their various villages. They would not even like the hassles and noises of places like Lagos. I would definitely be one of them. The Nigerian embassy in the Netherlands never came to Bijlmer to know how its people were faring. The embassy was located in Den Hague. I had once sent them a letter to rent a small office in Bijlmer where people could be coming to tell them what was happening in their lives, a letter they never replied or implemented. Apparently the suggestion came from a nobody. The truth was that 95% of Nigerians in Holland lived in Amsterdam. 93% lived in Bijlmer alone. If our diplomats had brains, there was no way they should have waited for someone to remind them that they needed an office in Bijlmer. They didn’t care about us even in foreign lands. They only cared about themselves up there in the coastal city of the Hague where a massive international diplomatic prison was built. They were supposed to be thrown into those prisons until they learnt what governance was all about. On the other hand, we were the architects of our own problems. Majority of the Nigerians in Bijlmer needed serious orientations of ethics and how to obey the laws of the land. Some of them would enter the trains without buying tickets. The system made it that one could purchase hourly, daily, weekly or monthly tickets. It would enable them to move around freely. But instead, some silly ones among us would risk entering the trains without tickets. The transport authorities usually came on board the trains to check for tickets. It was not a daily thing, it happened whenever they felt like. They never announced the days They would show up, they didn’t have uniforms or badges. They would just show up inside the trains and start to check for the tickets. If they catch you without ticket, they would ask for your documents. That was where the problems of Nigerians lied. Since most didn’t have legal documents , they would just throw their hands in the air in resignation. The controllers would call the police who were readily available in every corner. The police would take you away and lock you up or deported you after finger printing you to determine if you were documented in any neighbouring country. That was also the fate of our people but that was a fate we could easily avoid. Arguments and Drinks: This was another area where we lacked a lot. Two Nigerians would be arguing over Chelsea and Manchester United as if it was their private business. You would never hear white people shouting over such things, they would just calmly made their points. But when it comes to Nigerians, they would argue until a fight ensured, then the police gets involved and started demanding for documents. Alcohol was the next. Drinks were cheap all over Europe. Nigerians were also readily available to buy you any amount of drinks you wanted, provided you didn’t ask him to give you the money in cash. After drinking to stupor, they would commit one thing or the other such as beating traffics or urinating along the roads. The police gets involved as usual and start demanding for documents. That was us in Amsterdam. The major cause of those misbehavior was because we all lived in one place. Back in Germany, the government integrated us into the society by mixing us up with the local communities. It was the same in Portugal too. Maybe that was how the Dutch authorities planned their own way of keeping a check on us. At a time, i stopped going out. I would stay at home and write. I would study through Google and read novels. I wanted to improve my English but going to school was out of question. My laptop and Google search were my teachers and my school. Apparently they taught me well only that they didn’t issue me a certificate at the end. I liked history a lot. It was my best. Back in secondary school, i did Science courses but it wasn’t something one could study without physical schools and practicals, that was my reason for choosing to read a lot of histories online. If i knew i was going to be writing this someday, i would have concentrated on English and Literature. But i am still grateful that i was able to write what other human beings could read and comprehend, even without much spelling errors. That was my life in Amsterdam. I had decided to shut hustling for money out and did another thing. Money was such a wonderful item, but i tell you this, it was never the most important thing. The most important thing was to discover yourself and when that happened, money will naturally come. Stay away from drugs, that would be my message. The cocaine deals would be next. Brace yourself. ” Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right” 2 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 2:50pm On Nov 16, 2013 |
24: WHERE IS CHIDI? Chapter 24. Where is Chidi? In life, we were all victims of circumstances. We possessed the powers, strength and wisdom to control some circumstances but some were out of control for us. The above natural phenomen described what happened when the news filtered in from Spain that Chidi was arrested in Madrid. Chidi left an apartment and Ify behind. Ify, like many other African women in Amsterdam, had no work to pay the house rent. Since i rented only a room in the apartment, it would have been very easy for me to leave but leaving Ify behind wasn’t such a good thing to do. The girl was clever enough to swoop for me, peharps she knew that Something could happen to Chidi. There were always troubles lurking around for all drug dealers. One thing about drug dealing was that news of misfortunes traveled fast. It was on a Sunday morning, Ify had gone to a Church in Verein Stuartveg. The Church belonged to an Iranian man. The call had filtered in from a friend of mine whom i had asked to monitor what Chidi was doing in Madrid. At a stage in my stay at Chidi’s place, i had started getting worried. Chidi had initially told us that he was going to Switzerland to get his money from his retailer, then he had changed his story. Many weeks had passed without seeing him. I was forced to pay for the entire apartment. Ify had swooped on me as soon as Chidi left. The whole piece had started to come together. If they were genuinely in a relationship, Ify must have waited for a few days before making advances towards me but she hit it away as soon as Chidi left. I hated entrapments and surprises. It crossed my mind once to quietly vacate the apartment but what would be the fate of the Ify? She would definitely run straight to another guy since she wouldn’t be able to maintain the house alone. Guys were readily available to welcome her and would mess her life up and throw her away in time. As a result, i decided to stick around and watch the way things go. That was the circumstances i found myself in, it was a circumstances i could manage. ”Chidi’s number is not going since day before yesterday” Ify said one evening while eating in the sitting room. ”Really?, maybe he traveled” i said casually. ”Do you know any of his friends, maybe you should call and ask where he has gone” i continued. She didn’t know who to call. That was the fate of some of our ladies in Amsterdam, even the married ones. Bijlmer was never a place to live with your wife and raise kids. The chances were, that you would someday, get involved with drugs and as long as you deal on drugs, it was only a matter of time before one trouble or the other knocked on your door. I knew that Ify had no plan B on what to do if Chidi didn’t show up. Most women were like that. Since she came up with the news by herself, i decided to explore a little more. ”What are you going to do if he didn’t return here” i suddenly asked. She didn’t know what to do as i expected. ”I don’t know” she said. ”Alright, we will wait and see what happens in the next few days, just stay calm down and don’t talk to anybody about it” i said. A day after Ify broke the news about Chidi, i took her to Rotherdam. I had sensed that she was nervous. She needed a break. I believed she was afraid of what would happen to her if she had to vacate the apartment. We got to Rotherdam and walked down from the train station to the city center. Rotherdam was a nice city, the second largest in Holland. It was known mostly for its waters which hosted the Europort, the largest seaport in Europe. There was a small park about half a kilometer from the train station, we walked to the place and sat down. The whether was quiet, the summer was gradually turning to winter. Right in the park were also a man and a woman. The man looked South American. He wasn’t European. He smoked cigarette and talked with his lady friend. I had walked up to him and asked him to give me a stick of cigarette. He had given it to me after grumbling in a language that was strange to me. ”Are you Spanish” I had asked. ”Why do you ask” he said. He was definitely a bad man. Bad men usually ask you questions instead of answers. Europeans usually answered your questions before asking you another one. ”Nothing, i just want to talk. My wife is angry with me. I brought her to the park to talk but she wasn’t talking” i said as i looked towards where Ify was sitting. The Lady sitting with the man giggled and said something, then she asked if i did something wrong to her. ”I don’t know, maybe i did” i lied. She laughed and told me to go and kneel down before her and beg her. I couldn’t help but smiled. I only wanted to get the gentleman talking and i had ended up being told to go and kneel before Ify. I decided to act. I thanked the lady and walked to Ify, then i knelt down in front of her and said. ”I just told those two people that i did something bad to you. They told me to kneel down and beg you. I want you to smile” i said. Ify started laughing. I got up and took her back to where the two people seated. The man had decided to talk with me. ”Where are you from” he asked me. ”Nigeria” i said. He looked at the lady seated beside her and nodded. ”I told you that he is Nigeriana” he said. He asked if i lived in Rotherdam but i told him where i lived. He said he knew two Nigerians in Amsterdam. He called their names. They were people i knew very well. He said his name was Carlos while i told him i was Milla. Carlos was from Colombia but had lived in Rotherdam for five years. We exchanged numbers and promised to call Each other soon enough. Two plain clothed men walked past us. ”They are Police, its time to go” Carlos said. As soon as the men were out of sight, i dragged Ify up and left the park towards the Rotherdam train station. ”Excuse me Sir, can i see your Passport” a voice said behind me. I turned back and faced two men. They were the two Police men i just saw at the park. ” People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing. That’s why we recommend it daily” 3 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 2:51pm On Nov 16, 2013 |
25: MEET CARLOS Chapter 25: Meet Carlos. ”Excuse me Sir, can i see your passport” the voice had said. The two Plain cops we had seen at the park was standing right behind us. I raised my eyebrows in a manner that suggested to them that i didn’t know who they were. One of them flashed his badge closely in my face to remind me that he was a cop. I brought out my passport and handed it to them. ”Would you follow us sir” one said. In Igbo Language, i told Ify to go back to Amsterdam immediately. ”Don’t wait for me, just follow the train standing over there and leave. I will call you when i finish with them. If anybody ask you anything about me, tell them that we met two days ago and that you know nothing about me” i had told Ify. I followed them to a small office outside the station. They asked me to sit down while they browsed through my documents. ”When did you come here” one of them asked. ”This morning” i said. I knew that he was referring to when i came to Holland but i decided to make it when i came to Rotherdam. Can we see your transport ticket Sir” one of them said. I brought out the daily train ticket i bought in Amsterdam and handed it over to them. After looking at it, he asked when i came to Holland. I told them that i came to Amsterdam two days ago. When they asked where my ticket to Holland was, i said that it must be in Amsterdam. They asked me to stand up, then they searched me thoroughly. ”What were you doing in the park with that man” they asked. ”Nothing, i needed a cigarette and went to him. That was my first time of seeing him” i said. They asked what i had come to do in Rotherdam. ”My girlfriend said she knew a nice park in Rotherdam and here we are” i said. After more irrelevant questions, they gave me back my passport and asked me to go. As soon as i stepped outside, i called Ify. She was still at the train station. She had panicked and missed the train, she was at a coffee shop under the train station. I asked her if anybody approached her for questions but she said nobody did. I walked to where she was and pulled her up. She was still nervous. ”I thought they will send you back to Portugal” she said. According to her, She didn’t know what she would have done if that was the case. ”Keep quiet and lets go. We can’t talk about this here” i said. We walked up to the station and entered the Amsterdam train. Apparently, the cops knew Carlos. They might have been monitoring him for sometime. Carlos obviously knew them as well. He had told me that they were Police. The cops had searched me because they believed that Carlos had given me some drugs. When we got to Amsterdam, i called Carlos with a different phone. He didn’t know who it was until i told him. He had said that i gave him a different phone number from the one i used to call. ”Carlos, those police men controlled me at the station. They took my phone and brought it back to me after some minutes. They could have bugged it. That is why I called you with a new phone and simcard” i said. ”You are a smart guy my man. That is good” he said. ”I think they know you, please be careful” i said. ”Of course they know me and i know them” he said and laughed. He said he will come to Amsterdam the next day and promised to call me. Ify was still nervous. She had suddenly realised that i could have disappeared just like Chidi. She wasn’t prepared for such event. I had assured her that nothing would happen to me but she knew i was just trying to make her feel alright. When Carlos called the next day and said he was at the Amsterdam Arena, i took Ify along with me. I met Carlos opposite the Electronics mall at the Ajax Stadium. We took our chairs to the middle of the wide space and talked. He had asked me to switch off my phones. He asked how much i would be selling Cocaine for him in Amsterdam. I gave him the common market price. He said he would remove €0.50 for me from each one gram. Instead of €2700/ kg, i would be paying €2650. He said he will send some Drugs to me in a day. After having some drinks, we went into the bar and picked Ify up, then we drove back to our apartment. Dealing drugs with South Americans worked in two ways. They were never afraid of shooting and killing people who steal their monies. Carlos had warned me thoroughly. He had told me that his boss won’t forgive me if anything happened to his goods. He reminded me how dangerous and risky it was to successfully ship drugs from Colombia to Europe. When i finished showing him my apartment, he drove back to Rotherdam. Ify didn’t know much about drugs but she knew that it was a dangerous business. She knew that i was about to get involved with Carlos and that it could only mean one thing; drugs. She had tried to advice me to forget about the business with Carlos and concentrate more on the articles i wrote for the newspapers. Unknown to her, the €200 i got monthly from the newspaper wasn’t even enough to pay for one room. If we were to survive in Amsterdam, i was definitely going back to drug business. I had tried to convince her that i would only do the business with Carlos for a month and then i would quit. But i knew that the South Americans were dangerous, once you get involved with them, it would be hard to leave without a bullet. When Carlos showed up the next day, he came with another young man. They had walked up to my door and pressed the bell. When they entered, the new guy dropped a small bag on my table. He asked me for clean water and cup, I brought them for him. He dipped his hand inside the bag and brought out two kilos of cocaine and a small gun. He kept them on the table and looked at me. ”This my friend, is two kilos of pure Colombian white. If you sell them fast, you get more and more. This is good business for you. I give you this because i believe you are a good person since you can kneel down for your woman to Make her happy. If you run with my money, you die with the money” he said. ” There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing” 3 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 2:53pm On Nov 16, 2013 |
26: I AM A CELEBRITY Chapter 26: The Comedian. As soon as the Colombian thugs left, i started making calls. I told a few people that i knew someone who had good stuff. I told only two people that it was me who own the stuff. People started calling later and before the end of the day, i had sold the whole stuff. There wasn’t much money in it for me. I had only made €1000 from the two Kilos. I could have made more if i had decided to grind and mix the pure stuff with Soda powder (Ntugwa), but in truth, i was afraid of the Colombian thugs. I was sure they brought the gun along just to show me that they could kill me if i tampered with their business. I called Carlos that evening and told him that i have sold them out. He said that his friend would contact me soon. In less than five minutes, my phone rang. It was the guy who had brought out the gun in my place. He said he was downstairs. I took the money down to him and he disappeared. Apparently he had been around my place since the drug was given to me. He must have been monitoring if and when i would move out of the house with a traveling bag. Those guys could do anything to protect their money. When i told Carlos that i had given the money to Hugo, his friend, he thanked me and promised to send more drugs soon. Business with Carlos continued. He would brought three kilos sometimes and even 1 kilo atimes. We never quarreled or misunderstood each other, he liked me a lot. At a stage, he stopped sending Hugo to get his money. He started coming by himself and asked me to bring it for him sometimes. Things went on that way. The Nigerian community had started seeing me in the public again. They asked questions of where i had been. They wanted to know how i made up the jokes i wrote on the newspaper. Everyone wanted to buy me drinks. I had started using some of their names to write funny jokes. I had turned a celebrity in Amsterdam. People recognized me wherever i went. Ify enjoyed the fame more than i did. She was happy and proud to be associated with me. There was a concert organised by a Yoruba man in Bijlmer, it was a program ran by Julius Agwu. He had invited Julius Agwu to come to Amsterdam and perform. I was approached by the manager of JD Promotions, the organisers of the event. I was asked if i could tell some of my jokes on stage. I had agreed to perform without giving it much thought. I had seen some comedians performed on stages and i knew i was far better than them. However on the day of the concert, i discovered that it wasn’t as simple as i thought. I didn’t practice. I didn’t take it serious. I had been included in the Posters which meant that my pictures were pasted all over Amsterdam and beyond. On the morning of the event, i digged inside my archive of jokes and picked out six different jokes, then i thought about how to present them. The show time was 8pm, however i panicked around 6pm, and took some whisky. It made me to lose some of the things i had planned for the night. As a result, i had Found a pen and wrote down the topics on my left hand. The topics was going to help me remember the jokes. ”Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Milla, the man behind the Best of Jokes” the MC had said. It then dawned on me that i wasn’t dreaming. My hands were shaking as i walked up to the stage. The crowed were cheering which made things more difficult and challenging. I was expected not to disappoint. I had walked like a goat and grabbed the Microphone. ”Ladies and gentlemen, i am Milla” i had said. The crowd started clapping again. Things were going fine. I had wished that things would continue that way until my time was up but unfortunately, i was still going to talk and make them laugh. I began with a joke i wrote about how President Yar’adua went to Algeria to on a state visit and when it was time to address the Algerian people, he had stood up and said. ”Thank you the people of Algeria, i would have so much loved to address you in your own language but unfortunately, i am not very good at Algebra”. I had explained that the president thought that the Language of Algeria was Algebra. People were laughing before i finished the first joke, it had helped me a lot and had given me a lot of confidence. I had started the second joke amidst laughter and cheers from the crowd. My second joke was about a Robot machine that was invented by the Japanese which was capable of detecting lies. The alcohol i took before the show had suddenly disappeared as i dazzled the audience with pure jokes. I had mixed my regular English with Pidgin English to allow the easy flow. It was a dilemma for me initially but as soon as things got underway, i didn’t care how i said anything anymore. I was the guy with the microphone. The jokes i picked was exhausted before my 15 minutes and as a result, i resorted to picking individuals from the crowd to make jokes out of them. I told one that he left his wife at home and came to the show with his mother in-law. Another one was shouting at the back and when i told him to keep quiet that he came to Europe with legs, the crowd erupted again. It was easier than i had thought. I wondered if that was all it took to become a comedian. When i left the stage, many people wanted to take pictures with me. Even Julius Agwu himself asked that we take pictures. He said he would like to work with me when next he visited Europe. I was given €400 and a bottle of Hennessy. After the show, i took many more pictures with People, especially young girls. Ify was naturally jealous and wanted me to stop taking pictures with girls. When we got home, the door to our apartment was broken. Danger alert! Apparently the people who did that knew that i was to participate on the show. They must be Nigerians who knew that i was selling drugs almost daily. We walked inside and everywhere was littered with our belongings. I went to the kitchen where i kept one Kilo of Drugs Carlos gave me the day before and it was not there. They have taken it. ” Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off the goal” 4 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by papindinho(m): 10:45am On Nov 17, 2013 |
Dear Uncle Azubuike, Thanks for the consistent posts and I've learnt a lot and exposed to some facts concealed in travelling. More power to your elbow sir. May you continue to enjoy peace and blessings. Amen. Is registration still open on globalruns? 5 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Madawaki01(m): 9:07am On Nov 19, 2013 |
Chai,anoda wahala,how will u pay the colombians now?? Nice 1 zubby |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 9:29am On Nov 19, 2013 |
Chapter 27: Thieves. A kilo of Cocaine was €27000. It was true that i had saved some money but it wasn’t up to €27000. Carlos and his mobs expected me to pay them their money. The biggest problem was that i couldn’t go to the Police to report the burglary. I was living illegaly in Amsterdam. Even if i went to the police, there was no way i was going to tell them that one kilogram of Cocaine was stolen from me. That left me with just Carlos and his mobs. I waited until 8am before i called Hugo to come. When he came, he saw that my door was broken. ”Hugo, I called you here to see this. I don’t know who broke into my house yesterday and stole my things” i said. After walking around the house, he called Carlos and reported that i had been robbed. He told Carlos that the thieves took the cocaine and my money. Carlos didn’t say much, he just promised to come down to Amsterdam and see me. It was obvious that the thieves knew i was not at home. It also meant that it had a Nigerian connection. Someone who knew me very well had known where i would be that night. As a result, i decided to start underground investigation. The only problem was that Carlos may not give me enough time to act. The money i hid under the table in my room was also taken. It was about €8000. My room was not scattered. Whoever took the money had gone straight to where it was and took it. Who could have done that? Ify knew where the money was, she also knew that Carlos visited me the day before the incident. Carlos had come to take his money and had given me one kilogram to sell. The whole fingers pointed to one person; Ify. It was almost impossible to suspect her but i never really trusted Ify. The way she came into my life wasn’t so good, she came through the back door. When she walked into the bathroom to bath, i went to her room, took her phone and walked back to my room. Then i went through the call logs. She had called one Ikenna at exactly 21:24, that was the time i was on stage. I copied down the phone number of Ikenna and browsed through the message inbox. What i saw there jolted me. It was a message from an unregistered number. It read: ”We don finish”. I copied the number down as well. By the time i came out of my room to drop her phone back, she was already back in her room. I dialed Robin’s number from her phone and started talking. ”Guy, some people broke into my apartment. I am calling you from my girl’s phone. I have no airtime in my own phone” i said. I made sure Ify heard me very well. ”Baby, i borrowed some airtime from your phone to call somebody” i said. She said it was OK. After taking her bath, Ify said she was going out to Amsterdamse poort. ”Its Ok, you can go. I need to have some rest” i said. I quickly went into my room and put on a trouser and pullover. When i came out, i saw Ify walking towards Amsterdamse Poort. I took the lift downstairs and followed her. She got to a large building opposite the Police Station and pressed a bell. A few seconds later the door was opened for her. I left there and took a Snoda down to Robin’s house. He was eating when i got there, i joined him. ”I think Ify was involved in what happened in our house” i said. I went on to tell him how i reached that conclusion. No doubt, he felt the same way too but he warned that Ikenna could also be a guy she was dating. We discussed about how to find out. Since i already got Ikenna’s number, it was easy to track him down. I gave his number to Robin. He called him. ”Hey guy, its me. Do you know anybody who have good stuff, i need half Kilo” Robin said. Naturally he asked Robin who he was. Robin told him that they exchanged numbers in Amsterdamse poort sometime ago. Every Nigerian in Amsterdam visited Amsterdamse poort atleast twice a week. That was where everything centered. Ikenna said he knew someone who had some stuff. Robin asked where it was and promised to visit them instantly. Although drug business was not a business you discuss with people you didn’t know very well but every Nigerian, especially the Igbos in Amsterdam shared their numbers among each other. Even if someone called and asked for some stuff, as long as he spoke Igbo Language, it was assumed to be safe to deal with him. Robin went alone to Ikenna. He met Ify there. Ikenna had made a call for someone to bring the stuff to his place. When the stuff arrived, Robin cooked it as usual and confirmed it to be good. However, he gave excuse that he wanted brown stuff but since the one Ikenna had was good, he bought only 100 grams. When he returned, i checked the stuff and knew that it was the Colombian stuff from Carlos. I called Carlos instantly. ”Big C, i think i found the people who stole our stuff” i said. He told me that he was already on his way to Amsterdam. I waited or him in Robin’s House. When he arrived, Carlos was with two other South Americans i had never seen before. They had entered the apartment and sat down. ”My friend, you told me you found the thieves, did you get my stuff from them” Carlos had said. The look in his eyes suggested that he was in no mood to play around. ”I think my girlfriend, knew about the deal. I checked her phone and saw that she called one guy last night when we were at a party. I took the guy’s number from her phone and gave to my Cousin here. He called him and got this stuff from him” i said as i handed the 100 gram to him. He sniffed it and handed it over to another one of his gang. The new guy checked it and nodded. It was a confirmation that it was from their cartel. One of them went to their car and came back with a brown liquid. They took a small sample of the cocaine and dropped it inside the liquid, it changed from White to blue. They all looked at each other and smiled. ”You are a clever man my friend. Where does this guy live” Carlos asked. I told them the name of the building where Ikenna lived. They stood up at once. We were going to Ikenna. ” Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined” 3 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 9:30am On Nov 19, 2013 |
Chapter 28: The Recovery. ”Wait Carlos, this is how we are going to do this. If all of us go to his house, we may not be able to get in” i said. They sat down again and listened to my plans. ”First of all, my cousin will call him and request to buy more stuff from him. He will ask him to bring the stuff here, then we will all come out from a room when he arrives” i said. They looked at each other and nodded. When Robin called and told Ikenna that he needed the whole remaining stuff for his white customers, Ikenna promised to bring it in twenty minutes. We waited and drank whisky until Ikenna called and said he was at the door, then we moved into a room and waited. Ikenna entered the house and brought out the stuff. At that very moment, i opened the door and came out, Carlos and the other two guys followed. As soon as he saw us, Ikenna instantly knew that he was caught. He had looked from me to Carlos and to Robin. Carlos picked up the pack of cocaine on the table, it was still inside the original package which had the initials of their Cartel. ”Where did you get this stuff” Carlos asked Ikenna. He said that he bought it from somebody. Carlos asked him to give him that person’s house number. Ikenna didn’t say anything. ”This stuff belong to me. You stole it last night and you are going to pay with your life” Carlos said as he brought out a gun. Ikenna fainted. ”Hey hey Big C, you can’t shoot anybody here. We found the stuff and that is it. This is my cousin’s house and we can’t mess it up for him” i said. One of the guys who came with Carlos was already kicking Ikenna who wasn’t even breathing. I was alerted. ”Wait Amigo, this man is not turning his body. Stop kicking him” i said as i pushed the guy backwards. He was angered by my push and had quickly brought out his gun. Wow! Those thugs had come with fire arms. What exactly did they intend to do with the weapons?. I remembered that when i called Carlos, he told me that he was already in the car driving to Amsterdam. It all meant that they were coming for me. Fortunately, i had managed to locate the stuff before they arrived. Carlos had said something in Spanish which made the slim guy to put his gun back in his pocket. ”We are going now. Call me when you finish selling the stuff” Carlos said to me as he pointed towards the pack of cocaine on the table. ”Uhm, no Big C. I am not selling it. Take it with you. I don’t like the way you came here with guns. We have been doing this business for long and you came here with guns” i said. Carlos and his gang where already exiting the house. They left th stuff there and went out to their car. I followed them to the door and watched as they entered their car and drove away. Robin, who had been stunned with what happened in his place, gathered the drugs and took them away. Ikenna was still on the floor. I went to the bathroom and brought cold water, then started pouring it on him. He opened his eyes a Minute later and asked what happened. ”They are outside waiting for you to get up. Who sent you to break my house?” i said. The question seemed to have brought him back to his senses. ”Its your girlfriend oh, he told us that you have market and money” he shouted. ”Us? You and who did that?” i asked. He suddenly realised what he had said and kept quiet. I brought out my phone and told him that i was going to call the Colombians and tell them that you are awake now. ”They wanted to shoot you but i told them to wait first. So if you don’t tell me what i want to know, i will call them to return inside the house” i said. Ikenna knelt down and started begging. His phone rang. I took it from him before he could do anything. It was an unregistered number but it was a combination of numbers i knew very well; it belonged to Ify. I ignored it. ”Where is the money you stole from my house” i asked. He said they have shared it into three. According to him, his share was €3000, his co-burglar got the same amount while Ify got €2000. Robin had returned to the sitting room and was sitting beside me. ”Who is this your friend who got €3000” i asked. ”His name is Ehis. He is an Esan guy who lives in Venserpolder” he said. ”Alright, call Ehis now and tell him that you have sold the whole stuff. Tell him to come here immediately” I said. Ikenna took his phone and called Ehis. He said he would come in 15 minutes. We sat there and waited for him. He came within 15 minutes like he promised and when he entered the house and saw the environment and mood, he knew that something was wrong. ”Are you Ehis” i asked. He kept quiet and looked from me to Ikenna whose clothes were soaked with water. ”Ehis i believe you saw a car that parked outside, if you looked inside, you must have seen some Colombians. They are the people who own the drugs and the money you stole in my house last night. I am going to call them if you don’t answer my next question. If they come in here and find out that Ikenna is alive, they will kill both of you” i said. ”Ehis please, do what he says, they came here with guns” Ikenna said. ”What do you want” Ehis asked. ”Good question. I want the €20,000 you people stole in my place and i want it here and now” i said. ”We didn’t steal that amount, we only saw €8000” he said. I asked where it was and he explained that he only got €3000. He initially denied that he didn’t have the money with him but when i started calling Carlos, he produced his wallet from nowhere and brought out the money. ”Where is my money” i asked Ikenna. He said he left it in his house. ”You can now call Ify. Tell her where the money is and tell her to bring it along with her own €2000” i said. Ikenna said he didn’t give any money to Ify yet. When he called Ify, he told her to find some money under his Mattress and bring all of it to where we were. We waited for several minutes until we heard the door bell. It was my Ify. ” Successful people are always looking for opportunities to help others. Unsuccessful people are always asking, “What’s in it for me?” 5 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 9:32am On Nov 19, 2013 |
Chapter 29: That is my Money. ”Hello baby, i thought you said you were going to Amsterdamse poort, what are you doing here?” i said as soon as Ify stepped into the house. She was confused initially or atleast she pretended to be. She had seen Ikenna on the floor with soaked clothes. Ehis was sitting on the single chair opposite where Robin and I were seated. He had asked to leave but i warned him that he would be shot by the Colombians as soon as he stepped out of the house without me. Carlos and his mobs had left long ago. I had only decided to act as if they were still outside. The South American mobs never stayed too long in one place. Unfortunately for Ehis and Ikenna, there were many cars packed in front of almost every building in Bijlmer. It was impossible to know if people were inside any of them or not without checking them out one after the other. ”Ikenna is with our €7200. He and his friend came to our house to steal the money while we were at the concert yesterday night. He said he would call his girlfriend to bring the money here but i didn’t know it was you. Do you have the money with you”?. I said. Ify looked at Ikenna who nodded. She brought out the money she came with and left it on the table, then she started crying. ”No no no, not here in my house. You can’t cry here. Just shut up or leave. The Colo people almost killed this man here because of you” Robin said. He was visibly angry. I didn’t know he was that angry. I have never seen him that way. Ify had instantly kept quiet and was cleaning her crocodile tears with her left hand. I picked up the money and started counting it. It was €5000. ”Where is the €2700 You got from our 100 grams this morning” i asked. He said it was in his wallet. He brought out the wallet and put the money on the table. I counted it and it was €3200. I removed a €500 note and threw it at Ify. ”Your boyfriend is giving you this one to go and find a room where you will be staying from now on. We are no longer going to stay in one place. I can help you find a room but i will tell the owner that you have criminal boyfriend” i said. She wanted to start crying again but remembered how angry Robin was. ”Ok people, it is time to leave. You people are going to leave through the back door. There is a dwarf fence there but you can jump through it. Look left and right and make sure nobody is looking before you jump. Follow the left side of the road and disappear. If you follow the right side, the Colombians could see you” I said as i opened the door to the back Yard. I asked Ifeyinwa to stay behind. I wanted her to go back together with me to our apartment. I wanted to talk to her and find out why she did what she did. It was true that she was regarded as a thief as well but she was my responsibility. Maybe if i had done things differently, she could not have done what she did. If i had impregnated her, she would never thought about ganging up with people to steal my money. She waited. I asked Robin to Take the drugs away from his house for the time being. He was still surprised that i had business partners who carried guns around. I gave him his €2700 and left with Ify. It was already getting dark when we got to our house. Our front door was closed the way i left it but i simple push opened it. I didn’t know how those silly thieves damaged the key. It didn’t matter anyway because i had made up my mind to look for a new place. ”I don’t want to know why you called people to come and steal our money. I call it our money because i have been paying the house rent alone while you occupied two rooms in the name of safeguarding one small bag for your boyfriend Chidi. I have been buying everything you eat in this house. I have been responsible for your clothes and hair and creams. There is a woman called Ada, who finds houses for people. Call her and ask her to find a room for you. You can also pack your belongings and go to Ikenna” i said. She sat on the sofa and cried. I didn’t care. I didn’t feel anything for her. The colombians could have wounded or killed me because of her stupidity. It was dangerous to live with her in the same place when she wasn’t even an official girlfriend or wife. It was after the burglary that i realised the mistake i had been making. It seemed that i was a difficult person for women. I believed i didn’t give them the love and time they required and demanded. But i was a field soldier who had only one thing in mind. Ify wasn’t a bad person, i never saw her did anything out of order. She was just a girl trying to survive. I had once given her money to send to her people back in Africa. Somehow i believed that she needed money to prepare herself for any uncertainty that might befell me, but she could have just asked. I allowed her to know where i hid my money under the table because i wanted her to be able to have some money to use or pay for lawyer if anything happened to me. But she decided to be faster. I called Robin to start looking for a new apartment where him and I would occupy as our own. The sole owner of where he lived had gone to Spain for some business and we were lucky that he wasn’t around when the Colombians came. He would have asked Robin to leave. ”I am leaving this place any moment Ify. It is better that you start making plans on how to leave too. I don’t want to abandon you that way. If you need money for food, you can call me but you need to live alone. I don’t trust you anymore and you know why. Carlos wanted to shoot me and even Ikenna today because of his drugs. It was all because of you” i said. She didn’t say anything. She just sat on the chair and cried. At a stage, she suddenly kept quiet and dried her tears. I was alerted. I was also curious to know why she had suddenly stopped that way. I shifted my gaze towards her and kept it there. ”Azubuike, I have something to tell you” she said. ”What is it” i asked. She cleared her throat and said: ”I am Pregnant” ” Certain things catch your eye, but pursue only those that capture the heart.” 4 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by ZUBY77(m): 9:34am On Nov 19, 2013 |
Chapter 30: The pregnancy. For about twenty minutes, i didn’t say anything. Ify had left her seat and came in front of me. She was kneeling down and the tears had started to flow downwards once more. ”How long have you been sleeping around with men” i asked. She said that she had only slept with Ikenna and me. According to her, she had discovered that her monthly period had stopped. Then she had gone to a pharmacy where they confirmed that she had taken in. She had asked them to do a test to find out the blood type and the other information about the baby which would help her determine who the father was among Ikenna and I. They had told her that it required money. She had suspected that it was Ikenna who Impregnated her since I had decided to start Using condom over the past month. As a result, she had decided to approach Ikenna first since He had slept with her three times without condom in the past one month. Ikenna had said that he had no money for the hospital tests. She had told Ikenna that he knew where i hid my money, then Ikenna had suggested that she stole it. She had told Ikenna that she couldn’t do that since it was only She and I who lived in the House. Ikenna had once again, suggested that they broke into the house and steal the money on the day of the Concert which they knew i was going to be on the show. She said she had called Ikenna as soon as i took the Microphone that night. Her story was very good and clearly believable. I knew lies when i heard them. ”Did you also tell them where the drugs from the Colombians where hidden” i asked, just for the sake of saying something after what she had told me. She stood up suddenly and said: ”I didn’t tell them about drugs, i only knew about it when you said that it was missing. That was the reason why i told you that i was going to Amsterdamse poort. I went to his house to ask him why he took the drugs. I told him to return it but he said he can’t do that. I told him that it was the Colombians who own the drugs but he didn’t believe me. I swear, i only told him about the money” she said amidst tears. ”Ifeyinwa, i believe you. Now i know what happened but i still can’t live under the same roof with you again. I don’t trust people and i don’t allow one thing to happen to me twice” i said. ”What exactly do you expect me to do for you now” i asked. ”I don’t know” she said. ”Alright, clean yourself up and prepare for hospital tomorrow morning, you are going for the tests. If the baby belongs to me, we will find a new place and stay together but if it is not mine, you will leave my life” i said. She jumped up and hugged me for long. ”I am very sorry that i did this after everything you have been doing for me. I only panicked when i found out i was pregnant. I should have told you first” she said. ”Go to the kitchen and prepare something for us, i am hungry” i said. I had started pitying her. It was strange how people’s lives change in a twinkle of an eye During the night, she came to sleep on my bed. I left her there and went to the sitting room where i smoked Marijuana. I later slept off on the sofa and when i woke up, it was already 7am. Ify was already prepared when i woke up. As i brushed my teeth, Robin called and said someone wanted to buy the Colombian stuff. I told him to sell it. Carlos also called and asked when he would come for his money. ”I will call you back later in the day and tell you” i had told him and hung up. We got to a private hospital where we conducted the tests. The total cost stood at €1223. It was supposed to be far less than that but we had no health insurance cards which could have cut the prices by over 90%. It was one of the travails of illegal immigrants all over the World; No health Insurance, no social security and no anything, just waking up and eating every other day. We were told to return by midday, therefore we took the opportunity to go to a man-made beach at the Gasperdam. It was empty and quiet as i had expected. We sat there and talked. We both evaluated Ikenna, what he does, how he behaved and where he came from. Ify knew absolutely nothing about Ikenna, the charming guy had just flashed his open teeth and smiled his way into Ify’s pants. She said she wanted to keep Ikenna as a friend whom she would run to if anything ever happened to me but somehow he had managed to convince her to sleep with him. We discussed what would happen if the baby was Ikenna’s, which Ify herself was pretty convinced it was. She didn’t know, she only said that she would not attempt abortion. She would keep the baby, according to her. That was a good decision by her but i wondered if i would have any role to play in her life anymore. Despite that Ify betrayed me, she had become more vulnerable to danger, hunger and the harsh conditions of illegal immigrants in Amsterdam. She needed me more than ever but still she made that mistake of not telling me about the pregnancy. Peharps she knew i would tell her that i had used condoms but i believed that she could have pinned it on me if she was strong-hearted enough but things had gotten complicated. At noon, we took a Snoda and went back to the hospital. The results were ready when we came. We collected it and took another snoda back home. She had asked me to open them inside the car but i refused. I knew that emotions would be involved. If the baby was mine, i would be emotional. If the baby wasn’t mine, i would still be emotional since i would be cleaning the tears running down from Ify’s eyes. Either way, i wanted everything to be inside our sitting room. Chidi, who gave me the house would have gladly accepted Ify and the pregnancy since i believed that was what he wanted. As soon as we got home, we went upstairs and sat down. Ify was leaning on my shoulder now. She didn’t ask me to open the envelopes but i did anyway. I scrolled down fast to the blood type and gene DNA and RNA, it didn’t match. The baby wasn’t mine. ” Everything you’ve ever wanted is on the other side of fear.” 5 Likes |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by MrTroll(m): 10:16am On Nov 19, 2013 |
I think you have a weakness for women. well, we all do. 1 Like |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Madawaki01(m): 11:55pm On Nov 20, 2013 |
Nice 1 oga azubby |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Dhortunn(m): 6:06pm On Nov 21, 2013 |
Oga Zuby and the whole house, I'm writing a story, here is the link; http:// www.nairaland.com/1524017/moment-atm#19674969 Kindly read and comment. Thanks! |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Tascocent(m): 9:37pm On Nov 22, 2013 |
Oga zubby abeg where u dey nau...cos na MB I dey take refresh dis pages since yestaday........ |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by bigx(m): 9:41pm On Nov 22, 2013 |
Tascocent: Oga zubby abeg where u dey nau...cos na MB I dey take refresh dis pages since yestaday........ Globalruns.com there was update today |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by write2obi(m): 12:33am On Nov 23, 2013 |
oga Sibi pls how do I register on ur website |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by drnairalov: 2:31pm On Nov 23, 2013 |
oh it made fp....alas!! guess dis is d censored version |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 2:36pm On Nov 23, 2013 |
drnairalov: oh it made fp....alas!! guess dis is d censored versionYeah! That's why its on Literature section |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by bigx(m): 2:49pm On Nov 23, 2013 |
Fp oh!! |
Re: Life On The Run: Season 5. Life In Amsterdam. by Nobody: 3:01pm On Nov 23, 2013 |
thunder fire op.mod no vex na hunger cause am.mtcheew useless topic |
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