The unknown kabal

I used to think white people were Gods and we blacks were sent to earth to work for the white man until I experienced the first world war. From that day on Pan Africanism became my thing, so as a well educated old man I told my children to live with pride and be proud of where they come from. What do I know I lived my life to the fullest and shared my philosophy out side because my wife was problem at home until our first son had his child then the story changed.

My Name is Damilola but in the streets I'm known as D dot my grandfather started telling this story but how he's story relates to mine is really he's fault right now I'm also an old man telling you my story (complicated right ) but if you have an open mind you would realise he told his story before he died, so it's my turn to connect the dots and finish the story. Please be warned this frictional tale contains sex and violence.

I came from a broken home, so my grandfather raised me I mean this guy was a baller, he had sex at he's old age and did all sort of drugs more like ( frank Gallagher but my family has shame if you get what I mean. I was given a free hand by my grandfather and was allowed to do whatever. So I started growing weed at the age of 14 after I smoked it in the middle 80's, don't worry Buhari was no longer in power so it allowed me to be the biggest drug dealer Nigeria has ever seen. But not to rush, let's build up my story like a marvel movie and not rush to the end like movies made by DC .

I was a thug in school and rolled with the thugs in school, I mean it was me and my always drunk grand father living togther so I was pretty easy for me to do every necessary evil.

We were comfortable but when I read about Pablo Escubar in a news paper I wanted to be rich, I mean if this guy could be burrying money I wanted to build houses with money stuffed in the walls.

So a few friends and I began selling the weed I was planting in Ibadan.

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We treated it well packaged it well and the first to start selling it in medicinal bags ( the popular name was voodoo because after you smoked it everything becomes a fantasy and you feel your a magical creature in wonderland ). But other dealers were not happy we were stealing their market. I mean we took over schools, sold at stadiums during Saturday morning games, outside clubs cause we were too young to enter, bars, bus parks even Guru maraji smoked it once and thought he was a prophet.

I couldn't believe we dropped out of school everything happened fast, I mean we made so much money I became a farmer at the age of 16 ( I mean I owened a marijuana farm, hectares of land where I planted it).

The thing about Nigeria is if you want to make it big, move to Lagos and if you make it doing something everybody starts doing what you are doing. So I extended my business to Lagos and the guys I started my business with didn't like it because ( we all split up a year back, every one had their weed farm but I guess it was the soil cause I sold the best shit).

Anyways they all got to Lagos before me so when they heard I was coming to town, it started the maddest drug war in this city. I mean how much do u even make from.selling weed ? (But your fucking rich if you are the one distributing the weed to the dealer's that sell I mean you sell in bulk, make your massive profits and own your own outlet where by your a competition with your suppliers).

It was a warm day in my brand new Mercedes 190 driving on third mainland bridge when I was first attacked by one of my competitors. It was a danfo bus he had rented with his thugs at the back pretending like passengers when the pulled up to my side, I mean the tow buses pulled up by my sides as I drove and they pulled out pistols. ( the bus on the right : driver and 2 passengers with a gun out the window : the left bus three passengers). I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the car behind me was a few metres away ( now this is not like America that they knock on your window before they shoot you ) nooo! As they pulled out their gun they started shooting. I mean the bullet from the driver seat passenger in the left went through my right hand as it broke the glass. I bent down quickly stepping on the breaks . The remaining bullets went through the glasses of my car. HOW IT HAPPENED ; it was reflex I lost control as I was shot. I hit the breaks but the car was swerving cause my hands were not on the wheel so I hit the left bus from behind and it lost control taking out the other bus and my cars spun to the edge of the bridge : first thought I had " shit just got real. My grave, can you dig it " . I was able to drive myself to a hospital but the word was out in the open, I had taking out STRIKA's guys.