Chapter 2 :The Secret he Buried
1040 Words
Tola sat frozen, his back against the cracked wall, eyes locked on his brother.
“Taye…” he whispered. “What do you mean?”
Taye didn’t speak right away.
He stared at the floor, lips pressed tight, as if the words burned in his mouth.
Then, he finally said it.
> “Dad wasn’t just a businessman.”
Tola blinked. “What?”
Taye looked up, pain flickering in his eyes. “He was part of the Aja’ gang. A high-ranking member.”
Silence.
Tola’s breath caught in his throat. “No… that’s not possible.”
“I didn’t want to believe it either.” Taye leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But I overheard Uncle years ago—talking to a police officer. They thought I was asleep.”
Tola’s voice cracked. “But why would Dad—?”
“He wanted out.” Taye’s voice turned sharper. “He was trying to leave. To disappear. To protect us.”
Tola sat there, numb. Like the floor had vanished beneath him.
“He knew too much. He had files. Names. Evidence.”
Taye’s jaw tightened. “And that’s why they came for him.”
Tola’s fists clenched. “And Mom? She didn’t know?”
“She begged him to stay quiet, to walk away silently. But he said he needed to clean his past… for our future.”
Tola turned his face away, the weight of the truth pressing down on him.
The murder wasn’t random.
Their parents weren’t victims of chance.
They were hunted.
---
“And there’s more,” Taye said quietly. “I think Uncle knew.”
Tola froze. “What?”
Taye’s eyes darkened. “I think he helped them.”
“No.” Tola’s voice shook.
“I’m not sure if he gave them up… or just kept quiet. But something about him has never felt right.”
Tola felt like screaming. He pressed his hands to his head.
All those years.
All the lies.
The man who raised him might have helped kill the people who gave him life.
---
Then—Taye stood.
“We can’t keep living like this, bro. Hustling, hiding, dreaming small.”
He turned to the window, voice low but heavy.
> “I’m going to find out the truth. I’m going to find the files Dad left behind… and finish what he started.”
Tola looked up at him, heart pounding.
> “And when we find who did this—”
“They’ll pay.”
---
> In that moment, under the gray morning sky, two brothers made a silent vow.
Not just to survive… but to rise.
And bring down the shadows that killed their blood.
“Bastards! What are you still doing here by 8 AM?!______
Baggy’s roar exploded through The Den — an abandoned warehouse-turned-ghetto bunker reeking of stale sweat, smoke, and broken promises.
His voice bounced off rusted metal walls, sharp like gunfire.
Men stirred. Some groaned. Some scrambled. Most ignored him.
Baggy stood at the entrance like a demon freshly spat from hell—shirtless, belly out, scars mapping his chest like war paint. A cigarette danced on his cracked lips, eyes bloodshot, wild.
> “Get out! Go hustle! How you wan pay me month-end?! You think say this place na your papa house?!”
Tola sat against a stack of old tires, half-awake, unbothered.
He didn’t flinch.
> “Oga Baggy… chill. It’s too early for madness.”
Baggy’s face tightened.
> “Your papa! If I open my eyes and still see you—na slap go wake you!”
Taye stood slowly, brushing dust off his jeans with one hand, stretching with the other.
> “Trrruuuu…” he hissed, spitting dry phlegm into the sand beside him.
The boys moved toward the exit.
But just as they reached the broken door—
> “Wait.”
Baggy’s voice shifted.
Low.
Dangerous.
Tempting.
The kind of voice devils use to sell you poison wrapped in gold.
The brothers froze.
> “I get something,” Baggy continued, stepping closer. “One deal. Serious package.”
Tola’s brow arched. His instincts pricked.
> “Talk na. Which kind package?”
Baggy dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his heel. He leaned in, his voice a whisper now, eyes darting around.
> “Honourable James came here yesterday. Real talk. Big man. He needs a job done.”
Taye narrowed his eyes.
> “What kind job?”
Baggy’s smile widened—slow, dangerous.
> “The governor’s daughter.”
Silence.
Dead. Thick. Choking.
> “He wants her kidnapped.”
Taye recoiled like he’d been slapped.
> “What?! You mad?!”
Baggy shrugged, calm as death. “Two million. Cash. Front and back. You in or not?”
Tola’s jaw dropped.
> “Two million?!”
Baggy nodded, lips curling.
Taye spat. “That’s the governor’s daughter! You wan get us hunted?! We’ll be dead before morning!”
> “That suicide mission!” he barked, pointing. “You dey craze?!”
Tola stepped closer, eyes wide like city lights.
> “Bro…” he said softly. “Two million.”
Taye didn’t answer.
> “We fit leave this hell. Pay for uni. Start fresh. Finally live, bro…”
Taye’s fists clenched.
He looked at the peeling walls. At the empty tins of beans. At the bucket they bathed in. At the dead cockroach in the corner.
At nothing.
Then back at Tola.
Their life was a prison.
> And this deal… this dirty, reckless, bloody deal…
Might be their only key.
He drew a breath. Slow. Long.
> “Hmph… life.”
Then nodded once.
Tola grinned. “That’s my big bro!”
Baggy’s face split into a toothless grin.
> “Good boys. The plan dey ready. Two men dey wait outside—black suits, tinted car. They’ll brief you.”
He turned away.
Lit another cigarette.
And just like that…
> The trap closed.
---
> A dirty deal.
Two desperate brothers.
One perfect lie.
> But the streets never bless.
Only take.
And once blood mixes with money…
There’s no clean way out.
---
- Writer
