The Devil I Became Chapter 1

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???? The Devil I Became Chapter One:

Ayuk and Babila were sitting on a bench in front of their school. They were both Form 4 students and were about 16 years of age. They were both the same height though Babila was slightly bulkier. Ayuk’s mother was from Nigeria and his father was Cameroonian. On the other hand, Babila was a native-born Cameroonian. However, that is not the end of the story.

The story started when Akpan, an Akwa Ibom man living in a single bedroom house in Babila’s father’s compound invited Babila to his room. He said he wanted to show him something.

Akpan was a farmer. He had left all the way from Nigeria to do some hustling in Cameroon. However, lately, he seemed to have started a new profession. This is because he hardly ever went to the farm and he spent most days locked in his room for God knows reason.

Unlike the other normal Akwa Ibom men who were doing farm work and spoke a heavily accented pidgin English, Akpan spoke perfect English, which suggests that he seemed to have seen the four walls of a university and he always walked with the air of a well to do person. He had always helped Babila with his assignments whenever he had the time to. This explained why Babila wasn’t suspicious when he told him he wanted to show him something.

“Babila, my man. Well done oh. How was school today?” Akpan asked.

“Good.” Babila responded.” I can see you didn’t go to farm once again.”

“Yes oh, young man. I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t understand.” Akpan said and laughed. Then he became suddenly serious. He continued. “There is something I have to show you. It’s really important, serious and dangerous. You have to promise me that you won’t tell anybody.” A small sweat had developed on his forehead. He wiped it with the back of his hand.

Babila look puzzled. He couldn’t understand why Akpan who had always looked harmless and jovial was suddenly scaring him.
“What is it, Akpan? I hope you are alright?” Babila, asked.

“I am. Just step into the house and see things for yourself.”

Babila hesitated for a second and then walked in. As soon as he was inside the room, Akpan locked the door behind him. The room suddenly became dark. He was very scared but he was reassured by Akpan that everything will be alright. Akpan went to his bed, removed the mattress and pulled out two large cartons. He replaced the mattress on the bed and put the carton on the bed. He opened the cartons one at a time and Babila almost screamed by what he saw. Inside the cartons was so much money. Babila had never seen so much money all his life. There were stacks and stacks of money of different currencies. Dollars, Euros, Pounds, CFA; all bright and new and carefully stacked. The cartons were filled to the brim with money.

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“Where did you get all this money?” Babila asked, in a frightened voice. A palm over his mouth.

“Now, listen and listen good. This is ritual money. This is money from the underworld.” Akpan confessed.

“Jesus Christ!!” Babila exclaimed.

“Yeah, I understand how you feel. But it’s too late now. You have already seen the money and you now know my secret. There is no turning back. If you tell anyone, you are going to die.”
Akpan threatened.

Poor Babila. He burst into tears. What was he going to do? He was only sixteen; still a teenager; still a child. Why would Akpan, someone he had trusted for almost two years do this to him. He couldn’t dare tell his father. He had been warned by Akpan. He had been told he was going to die if he told anybody. His legs started trembling and he collapsed on the floor and wept with deep pain and sorrow.

“There are two ways you can get yourself out of this.” Akpan continued. “One, you get some real money and mix it with this one, then take it and use. After ten years, you should have been able to make a profit. You will then keep your profit and bring back the same amount you have taken and we will send it back to the owners. You see, it doesn’t involve blood or killing anyone.”

“How are we going to do that? I am just sixteen. How am I going to spend this kind of money? What am I going to tell my father the money came from?” Babila was still crying.

“Don’t worry about your father.” Akpan laughed. “He’s a greedy man. I know him, of course. Is he not my landlord? He will only be too happy to see that his teenage son has become rich.”
“How about my mum? She is a prayer warrior. She will not approve of this. She will take me straight to her prophet for deliverance.” Babila was desperate.

Akpan had suddenly become angry?

“What is wrong with you now, Babila?” He snapped. “Listen to me now. There’s no going back. Your mum’s prophet cannot save you. So, you actually believe in that her Christianity? Let, me tell you. It’s all fake and a myth. Everything about it. Even that their water they call holy. It’s all fake. I want to make you a rich man at an early age. You will become like Obu Cubana, Cubana Chief Priest, Mike Adenuga and all these other great men you see on the social media. Calm down and relax. I will help you through this.”

Babila had stopped crying.

The amount of money he had seen was enough to tempt anyone, talk less of a child. However, thanks to his mum, he had been given a strict Christian upbringing and he, in spite of his age, he could clearly distinguish between good and evil. Even if he accepted to take the money, returning it involved some very dark practices. They had to make certain rituals before burning the money with some incense and red candles for the money to magically return to the underworld from where it was minted. He didn’t see himself going through that kind of gothic and fetish ritual. He then remembered that Akpan had told him there were two options.

“Okay, and what is the second option, just in case I am not interested. As it stands, you don’t need a fellow ritualist to teel you that I am not interested.” He said boldly. Fear seemed to have left him.

“You could look for someone or two people whom you can trust. Introduce the idea to them and make sure you convince them. Once they agree to take the money, you will be off the hook, as look as you never tell anybody anything for the rest of your life.” Akpan explained.

Babila suddenly felt his hopes being restored. He felt relieved. He knew a lot of greedy students in his school and a lot of young men in town who would gladly jump at the opportunity to become rich overnight. He promised Akpan he would do his best to get someone and left Akpan’s apartment. He was grateful that he was able to see the sunlight again. The last hour had been the longest one hour of his young life. He felt relieved now, though not completely relieved. He had a difficult task ahead; the search for a replacement.

TO BE CONTINUED