Episode 4

JOURNALS OF A NIGERIAN UNDERGRADUATE
D.U,I

They used to call them runsmen, hardmen, cultists and to some COWARDS. Every tertiary institution had them, though I heard they’ve reduced drastically. These dudes terrorised schools so much, your folks were more scared of secret cults than the deteriorating standard of education in the schools. For example, tell your folks my hostel is so dirty, mosquitoes are killing me there, infact I’ve had malaria three times in one semester here’s the doctors report, my room mate is a psycho, I have no roof rain pours on me at will, my lecturers favour the girls more than guys and will fail me even though he came to class only 3 times in one semester, the medical centre injected me with a used needle for my malaria shots and the last person they used it for was later diagnosed with HIV. Say anything extreme to them the only answer you’ll get is “but other people are there, manage you have other siblings”. Come home another day and tell them i got to my room last night and saw my 5 room mates all wearing black and... you cant go back to that room Obi infact we are changing your school. We’ll sell all our cars to give you the best education in the US. Ok but they lost someone in their department and were going for a procession which required that they wear black.
What pissed me off more was I was sure if I go toe to toe with most of these cultist, I’m sure to make some bleed but lifes not fair so I’ll be going toe to several massive fists, guns, bottles, knives and I heard they could even toss in a grenade for little ‘ol me. I’ll be toeless and many other body parts less at the end of the day hence be lucky to be dead. With this at the back of my mind, being a coward to these guys seemed like the wisest move. I’ll be Toby without the whip to stay alive. So in my first year I stayed away from anywhere they hung out till some dude’s moved next door.
Without caring about what others felt about them, they went about their business and it was obvious they were different so nobody really asked any questions. Surprisingly, I felt they were cool. Infact I started hanging out there more than in my room. Their room decoration was eccentric like no other room I had seen in that school. They glued a pyramid of empty cigarette packs on the wall that went from the ground to the top then the opposite wall was painted black. They were obvious but I still liked the loud Tupac music and all. Until Karma moved in. Karma stood over six feet with the build of a gladiator. He was a Hitman and was popular for obtaining or extorting civilians at random.
One day I’m in their room minding my business and living ghetto fabulous when Karma goes “ guy, nna men I like this ya watch” in lay mans term means give me your watch you fucking Jew or I’ll kill you. I started pondering to my self, what brought me here in the first place, I should have been reading Political Science 101, now I could fail and loose my watch at thesame time,...SHIT!. Anyway I gave up my watch and after that day, the bully would pass me and flash it at me smiling with contempt, if only he knew what I had in mind for him, ok there was nothing I could do but it doesn’t hurt to wish so just read on.
One evening at about 8.30p.m, I was reading for a test I had to pass by all means when I heard a knock on the door.As I opened the door, Karma staggered in, jumped on my reading table with my books on it and started rolling in pain. Wow, I said. did someone poison him before me? That cant be fair. Karmas eyes were rolling and he was stinking of alcohol. Help me he muttered, abeg help me I dey die. Suddenly I start thinkin of how fast I can dispose of his body it was actually 10p.m by then. I dey die he goes again, the world just dey turn. At this point I yell back “Fool thats because your rolling on my books get off! and surprisingly he jumps off my table like a 4yr old caught red handed doing wrong. It then hit me that this dude was so drunk I could do whatever I liked with him. Suddenly I felt powerful and so help me I was going to bring Karma on Karma. Just to be sure I smacked him in the face and he fell to the floor whining about how his mother would die if he dies so I had to help him. First thing I did was to lay him on the floor in front of his room and draw an FBI chalk line around him on the floor like the one you see in movies and in the middle wrote RIP Karma. Then off to the chemist we went which was two blocks away but this fool kept falling and I kicked him up each time. We got to the chemist and I told the man to sedate Karma with an injection. Karma was still rolling on the chair when I asked him for money to pay the Chemist so pulled out his wallet for me to see this bundle of about N10,000 (then that was big money and N100 was the highest denomination) he must have extorted all day. I snatched the wallet from him and took a little over the cost of my watch which I bought for about N1200. So I took just about N2000...Ok N5000...OK N8000 dont judge me just read on.
When I told Karma he was going to be injected, he broke down like a baby and started muttering Mummy I dont want injection, I smacked him again yelling shut up Bitch! The Chemist reacted and asked why I was treating him badly. I said for DUI. He asked Driving under the influence? I said no disturbing me Under the Influence. That wasn’t enough to convince the Chemist why I treated him badly so I just told him that this was the notorious karma. That did the trick because the chemist added Novalgin to the sedative. Poor Karma was crying like a bitch by the time I took him back to his room where he finally passed out.
By the time I woke up the next morning Karma had packed his things and left the hostel. His room mate told me Karma did a lot of weed and alcohol the previous night and woke up this morning still paranoid only to see the figure of his body drawn in chalk on the floor with Karma RIP written in the middle. That was a warning from his enemies so he had run home for his safety.
The events of the previous night happened really late so nobody knew what I was upto and those who were suspicious didn’t talk because nobody wanted to get involved with karma. Of course I couldn’t share this with anyone but I wish karma could see my face glowing with contempt now. 
Ekeocha Nnaemeka