We met for the first time at an event hosted by a mutual acquaintance. Jeremy was full of life. One of those people who was happy to try his hand at everything. This wasn't always a good thing, as I repeatedly told him. He would see the truth in my words sooner than I'd have him to, and even more damning, irrevocably experience the repercussions I'd warned him about.

_ _ _ _ _

Dial back to that night in Surulere. My date was a curvy Yoruba woman in her late twenties. Incidentally, Tolu was Jeremy's sister and was younger than he was by four years. Much like her brother, she was vivacious and exploratory and loved the fine things of life. That was where their similarities ended, however. She was more rational and impervious to taking unnecessary risks compared to her daredevil brother. Tolu and I left our hotel room shortly after 9 PM and stopped at a restaurant for a light dinner. Jeremy was at the party and being his usual charming self. He had an even more impressive assortment of luxury jewelry from the last time I'd seen him three weeks prior. However, the party was quite uneventful. Everything of note was to happen afterward.

We returned to our hotel room early. We had impassioned sex long into the night and then slept. I woke to Tolu's cry of anguish shortly after 6 AM. Rocking back and forth and with her knees drawn up to her chest, all she should do was mouth a barely discernible "Jeremy" over and over again. It was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen this beautiful woman. And immediately, I knew.

_ _ _ _ _

Jeremy's postmortem showed that he had seven bullet-inflicted wounds. He had one entry wound to his abdomen, one to his chest, and two more to his head. He sustained three bullet exit wounds to his lower back, neck, to the base of his skull, and one bullet lodged in his spine. The men who came for him were determined to escort him to the gates of hell. Jeremy never was one for heaven anyway.

How did this all happen then? My friend had a predilection for adrenaline-fueled affairs.

He also loved Lagos nightlife and could always be found at nightclubs, exotic brothels, and out-of-the-way saloons. It was at one of such places he met the man known as Lotus.

Lotus ran the most profitable methamphetamine trade in West Africa and had trade networks that reached across the globe. Hence, I was understandably alarmed when Jeremy began spending lots of time with Lotus, who was impressed by Jeremy's charm, wit, and intelligence. It wasn't long before they developed a working relationship, with Jeremy overtaking the operation of Lotus's distribution to Guinea, Senegal, and The Gambia.

Then greed reared its unseemly head. Jeremy began skimming off Lotus's profits. I had warned him against associating himself with Lotus. He'd discarded my advice. I also warned him about the dangers of stealing from such a nefarious individual. He laughed it off. "Loosen up, man. It's only what, 2 percent?"

Indeed, it was two percent. Lotus's retort when he discovered the theft was a hundred percent, however.

Jeremy was accosted at the entrance of his favorite brothel on Lagos Island. Amidst the wicked hail of gunfire, pedestrians and motorists hastened their respective ways from the site. Fourteen shots were fired by two gunmen.

Two of the first twelve cut Jeremy down, hitting his chest and abdomen. And then, one of the gunmen walked calmly up to him, aimed his weapon at his head, and squeezed the trigger twice.

_ _ _ _ _

* The gunmen have never been identified and Lotus's business thrives till this day.

* The relationship between Tolu and I buckled under the strain of our grief at Jeremy's death.