It was common knowledge among Jeff's friends that you could usually find him in one of two places. If he wasn't at Sir P's workshop, where he was supposed to be learning the lofty art of fixing cars, then he would surely be at the Bet shop down the street, where he had lost so much money that it had pricked even the conscience of the shop's avaricious owner. The bet shop owner was not one to salve his guilt, but because he liked Jeff, he made a special arrangement with him. While others lost their bet if they failed to predict one or two games correctly, He gave Jeff a leeway of four games. But Jeff was so bad, or perhaps the game so rigged, that despite this unique leniency, he still lost steadily.  

Whenever Jeff was not at one of these places, you could find him at Ebony Hospital. It was his hospital of choice whenever he got beaten in one of the many brawls he was constantly involved in. Everyone who knew Jeff knew this. 

So when he didn't show up for work on Tuesday and wasn't at Bet shop, his three friends and fellow apprentices looked at each other and passed knowing looks.

"I wonder what he's in for this time." Pero speculated, taking a seat near his two busy friends.

"Probably, someone has broken his head again." Said Emmy from underneath the car he was attempting to fix.

"As in eh…" said Jackie, cleaning a piece of machinery with a petrol-soaked towel.

Jeff was someone who was hardly ever absent from a fight. He fought for everything and anything. Jeff fought when one of his neighbours beat up his brother for attempting to steal from him. He fought when two men came to his father's house to seize some of their properties because his father owed them money. They had watched him slap a bus conductor over small change, a paltry sum that could not even buy a doughnut but was apparently a fortune to Jeff, judging from how he tore the bus conductor's clothes to shreds.

They knew that when they got to Ebony Hospital, they would find him stitched up and ready to tell them of the idiot who had been foolish enough to cross him this time and how he had dealt with him.

******

When they were not pursuing other activities, the boys were at the popular mechanic workshop that belonged to Sir P, who liked to call himself the expert in anything Toyota and Lexus; he had even erected a signboard to testify to this. Previously, he had called himself an expert in Peugeot and Mercedes Benz until the market changed. The workshop where they worked was a vast space surrounded by a high fence and guarded by a large rusting red gate that hung loosely about its hinges and stubbornly refused to close properly. The place was flanked by giant trees and littered with old, dilapidated cars rumoured to belong to owners whom Sir P had declared their cars beyond repair and now were only useful for plundering parts.

At the end of the yard was a long shade that spanned the rear of the back wall, which the first apprentices had built from a combination of hardwood and even more rusted roofing sheets. There, Sir P had his cramped office and tool shed, which was the source of Jackie's recent troubles.

Sir P's toolshed was as legendary as his shop because it contained every equipment required for their work. When the boys were first inducted, so to speak, one of the first things they brought was a toolbox with the basics- spanners, special screwdrivers, wrenches, and stuff like that. Sir P had taken them and stored them in the shed because he claimed he couldn't trust the boys to bring their tools to the shops every morning. The store was originally under the watchful eyes of Larry, a lanky boy with a stutter and a fiery temper that made everyone fear him. Larry had been serving Sir P for over two years and, upon graduating, had handed over the stewardship of the boxes to Jackie because he felt he was the most trustworthy.

Jackie had come from a polygamous home where his father, who claimed to be a devout Muslim, was more interested in fulfilling the great prophet's commands on marrying wives than his other noble instructions. He had secured his first three wives and sought the fourth and final wife. He squeezed his three wives and thirteen children into a three-bedroom apartment. Jackie was the tenth child and the fourth boy. After struggling to pass the first two sons through university (he did not give the girls a shot), the man decided that higher education was a waste of time.

"The economy is bad." He said, "There are no jobs anywhere, and those who graduated from universities are still doing menial jobs or asked to set up their local businesses. My children, the future is with those who have handwork…."

From then on, he made all his children learn a trade-anything from hair-making to tailoring. Some of his girls took courses in computer appreciation in preparation for their glorious careers in typing and photocopying documents. The boys he sent to serve as apprentices in various fields. One of them became a welder, lifting and mending large iron scraps. When it was Jackie's turn, he brought him to Sir P to serve as his mechanic.

"When I am through with him," Sir P promised, "There is not a single car he would not be able to repair."

Sir P and Jackie's father had burst into appreciative laughter. Jackie had not found it funny. He had fallen in love with psychology when he stumbled on a book in his public school's scanty library. He had stolen that book and practically bore a hole with his eyeballs. When you stayed with twelve siblings and two stepmothers, it was easy to become fascinated with the psychology of conflict. But his father had quickly knocked off those sentiments from his fantasying brain.

"In this country?" He had asked incredulously, "It's like hunger hasn't dealt with you…."

And so his parents decided he would learn how to repair cars, gain local acclaim, own a workshop and eventually have his own apprentices, just like Sir P. He was quiet and quick to learn, and Sir P quickly fell in love with his disposition. So he listened to Larry and gave him the key to the shed. 

Jeff, his old friend from secondary school, had first put the idea in his head. They had been sitting in the shop that morning, hungry. This was not an unusual experience; his father had too many mouths to feed, and sometimes, he just threw his hands up and told everyone to fend for themselves. Usually, when they came in hungry, they pulled resources together and got themselves something. Today, Jeff had a better idea. He would use the money they had pulled together to place it in the betting shop down the street. 

"What if we lose?"

"You don't trust me. If we lose, I will give you double the money you gave me."

And with such assurance, he took Jackie and Pero, who were always present wherever the barest promise of a free meal was, to the shop. The owner had opened the shop barely two months ago but had seen it become an instant sensation.

Even at nine a.m., the place was crowded and filled with the rumble and rowdiness that reeks of disorientation and desperation. They could see rough, illiterate boys, some screaming at the screen, others poring unbelievingly at the rolls of paper that held the details of their bet. Jeff did not place his bet immediately. He intensely studied the virtual screens for thirty minutes, not responding to the chats and greetings of those around him. Then he went to the attendant and placed his bet. The next round of games arrived, and Jeff had placed on three-to-one odds, which meant he would get thrice what he bet. He had put the five hundred bucks the boys had contributed, but as the first round ended, his bets were correct, and he had a thousand and five hundred.

"Hold this one thousand; let me bet again." He advised Jackie.

And for the second time in a row, he won the virtual. They left the shop with three thousand bucks, and Jackie was thrilled.

"How did you do that?" 

"There is a way to predict virtual games. Tomorrow, I will show you…."

Jackie's gambling life had begun with little sums. He would run errands for Sir P and manage to scrap five hundred here and one thousand there. Sometimes, a client would come for repairs, and if Sir P wasn't at the shop, he would fix the car with his growing knowledge and skills and keep the service charge. But then, he started losing badly. Jeff told him the owner had discovered that his machine was faulty and predictable, and all the boys were latching onto it. So the man had changed his program.

"Don't worry. If I go there for a week, I will get the new pattern.." Jeff promised.

Meanwhile, Jackie slowly becomes desperate for money. His immediate younger sister had finished secondary school and, unlike her siblings, was determined to attend a higher institution. 

"You know Papa would not even answer you…." warned Jackie.

"I know…" she said, "But I must go."

Jackie's mother had called him that evening to discuss funding for his sister's education.

"You know how your father is. And your sister wants to write the Post University Examinations, and she needs at least twelve thousand…."

So, Jeff came up with the bright idea of selling the toolboxes in the shed for the money, betting it at the betting shop to double it, and then buying a new one to replace it before anyone found out. Jackie was convinced and entrusted the money to Jeff, who lost the first set of funds. 

"Don't worry. Next time, I won't make any mistakes…."

It wasn't until he had sold three toolboxes that Jackie began to sense the folly of his plan. But there was another thing that was beginning to puzzle him.

Jeff had always been a terrible gambler and only had a winning streak when he went with Jackie to bet their lunch money. Since then, they had always lost. Yet even though Jeff kept losing money at Ali's shop, he kept buying new stuff- a new shirt, new trousers, and a shiny gold necklace that was glaringly fake but would still cost something. It smelled fishy. He had come to work that day to confront Jeff about it. He needed the money, and Sir P was asking about the toolboxes.

******

Despite being one of the funniest and most cheerful guys in Sir P's mechanic yard, Pero had one conspicuous flaw: he had a great appetite and was always hungry. Added to that, he could never resist a free meal. Even when he was young, he often complained to his mother that he never had enough to eat. His mother, a middle-aged single woman with three other mouths to feed, could not do anything about that and would always plead with him to bear with her. She worked in a government primary school, the same school he attended with one of his sisters. She had been working there for four years before her husband, who had never liked the idea of a working-class wife, had suddenly gotten up one morning, packed his belongings and some of hers, and left. Pero would not see him for another eight years.

The Family had to quickly adapt to survive on her meagre salary and the petty trading she did on the side. After working for six years, she was due for a promotion and a pay increase. But by then, the economy was in recession, and the government was unwilling to spend more money on the civil service, preferring to invest those monies in mammoth projects, purchasing official cars for government officials, and the forthcoming elections. So, she resorted to selling snacks on the school premises. To assist her, her three daughters woke up at three a.m. to prepare the snacks and buy ice blocks from a nearby vendor, which they would use to chill the soft drinks they were to sell. Sometimes, they prepared local beverages from the leaves of a purple herb locally called Zobo.

Pero's job was mainly hurling the snacks to school. He woke up by six a.m. and wheeled the goods in a wheelbarrow with tyres that danced drunkenly as he pushed, forcing him to employ every skill he could muster. His lunch usually consisted of snacks and a drink, which never satisfied his appetite. So, in time, he learned a trick. He would steal some of the snacks, sell them on the side to his classmates, and then use the money to visit the food vendor two streets from his house to eat a supplementary lunch. It was important to go that far so that his mother did not get wind of it. Then he learned that a rich woman on Agama Street always gave out free food every afternoon by two p.m. because she was looking for a child, and it was believed that being friendly to kids would attract children. So now, he was keeping his illegal money for other things. For things his mother did not provide in her snack shop.

He soon learned that if you dressed reasonably well and went to wedding receptions, child dedications, and naming ceremonies, you could get free meals, so he started going food hunting on Saturdays and Sundays. It was during his hunt for free food that he met Jeff.

Those days, Jeff was practically living in the streets because, as he told it, his house was a constant war zone. His father had married two wives and given birth to seven boys, six of whom were stronger and wilder than him. Because his mother was the second wife, his four elder step-siblings hated him and punished him violently at the slightest excuse. They would hit him with a broomstick, a thick plank, or a belt. Once, one of them had used a matchet on him.

"Men, it's just better to avoid them…" he told Pero.

Once, his elder brother from the same mother had gotten tired of the treatment and had come out to defend him. A violent fight had occurred, with Jeff running out and using a mortar on his half-brother's head. Both boys had to stay away from home for two weeks until they were sure their brothers no longer wanted to kill him.

Staying away from home meant he was always hungry and had to eat somehow, so they hunted for food together. Pero knew where all the free food was, and Jeff tagged along. But soon, all their wells dried up. The Nice lady at Agama Street delivered twins and immediately chased away all the urchins from her house. People tightened the security around their receptions and no longer gave free food to stray boys. Pero's mother discovered he was stealing from her and banished him from her business after giving him a merciless beating he would never forget.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Jeff told Pero, "Otherwise, we would starve oo."

So they joined a local group of boys who were homeless and into everything. They would beg and cajole strangers. They would run after cars with dirty foams and mild, soapy water to clean windscreens and demand payment. And when the opportunity arose, they would steal from careless and unsuspecting traders, pedestrians, and passengers. They were indiscriminate.

Pero was so in love with street life that he rarely attended school. He only wanted to make fast cash on the streets to buy as much food as possible. His mother was growing worried, so she called him to her room one night and began weeping.

"Two of your sisters are in the university." She said, "I know it's not easy, but I vow to make sure all of you have an education…."

Pero frowned at that. He did not want to keep going to school; he hated school and the teachers who insulted and thrashed him at every opportunity. He hated the boring classes and the meaningless things he had to memorize that had no practical application in the real world where he could make fast money on the streets.

"I want you to be serious, so you can go to school." His mother concluded.

"No, ma. I don't want school." He said firmly.

His mother looked at him with a deepening crease on her forehead, and for the first time, he realized just how much she had aged. All those years of labouring from dawn to dusk had taken their toll and shrivelled her beyond description. And he had not made life any easier for her, and for once, he felt a pang of guilt. He would somehow make her life easier. He didn't know how, but he vowed to do so one day.

Three weeks later, he told Jeff about that night and how he had vowed to make his mother proud. They were at an uncompleted building, two houses next to Sir P's workshop, and it had taken them barely a week to discover this cool spot where they could smoke and drink without interruption or interference.

"You want to make her proud?" Jeff asked, in between puffs.

"Yes na."

"You won't do so with this mechanic job…."

"I know." Said Pero with frustration.

"I know a guy who has the correct format." Said Jeff.

Which was the term internet fraudsters called the techniques they used to dupe unsuspecting people out of their hard-earned money.

"We will see him tomorrow…."

Jeff had chosen the wrong day to enter one of his fights. He needed the format quickly; he needed to make his mother proud.

******

The Ebony Hospital was built about four years ago in an area with more bush than homes. The founding doctor, Doctor Evans, was a man of practical vision. He had no grandiose dreams of making a hospital to treat Senators and expatriates. He just wanted to make enough to go by and supplement his poor and infrequent pay from the federal government. To survive, he felt he had to do everything other hospitals in the area would not touch. He treated gun and knife wounds without reporting the injuries to the police. He laundered the money of local councillors so they could keep the police off their back. He supplied prescription pills to local dealers who used them to prepare hard drugs that dissolved the brains of many youths. Then, when they rushed these youths back to his hospital for treatment, he was only too happy to oblige. In four years, he had bought two cars and had built an elegant hotel far away from his nefarious practices. And because crime paid so well, he became a partner in a brothel and protected the pimps there.

Every crook in the city knew that you could safely treat an inexplicable wound at Ebony Hospital. That was why Jeff always went there; his injuries were always unexplainable. He was the one who had introduced Emmy to Ebony Hospital two months ago when he first ran into trouble.

Emmy was a pure Casanova. He liked the women too much, and for some strange reason, they loved him too. His introduction to feminine ways started when he was thirteen at his secondary school. Both parents were alive and dotted over their only son in those days. He usually wore the best clothes and the best shoes. In the private school he attended those days, they had a haircut code- all boys were to go on low cuts and the girls on all back braids. Emmy always flaunted that rule, rocking a punk-style cut with a lightning bolt at the side. The girls went head over heels for him. But he wasn't bad yet.

Christine, the final-year senior who was just as suave as him, initiated him into the joys of manhood. Christine was three years his elder and gave off airs of such class and sophistication that when she called him to her class after school one day and told him she would like him to be her school son. He had had no other desire than to agree. Two months into their arrangement, she took him to a hidden spot in the school compound and touched him in places where he didn't feel so comfortable. Then, finally, she invited him to her house and took his innocence. And Emmy, whenever he told the story, would say a new world had opened to him. After Christine, he went through a dizzying amount of girlfriends.

Then just as he was entering his last year of secondary school, his parents got involved in a tragic accident that took them. Emmy's world changed overnight. A family council, consisting of his uncles and aunts, was gathered to discuss what to do with him, and they agreed to hand him over to a distant aunt. His aunt was a kind-hearted woman, but she wasn't a rich one. She couldn't afford Emmy's private school, so she took him to a public school where he met more willing girls and the violent but knowledgeable Jeff.

They had met when Emmy ran into problems with a vicious gang member because of a girl they were both after. Although he didn't have as much as he used to, he was still fresh enough to pull girls his way, which annoyed every boy in his new school. No girl seemed safe, and very soon, fights were breaking out between him and the boys, even amongst the girls. Hardly a week went by without the school witnessing two girls tearing each other's clothes over Emmy's matter. All because of one boy? At first, Jeff had been annoyed, but now he was fascinated.

Jeff met Emmy under a mango tree in a secluded area of the school. He found Emmy brushing imaginary specks off his uniform and using one of those long combs on his fresh prince-style haircut.

"You are waiting for a girl here, abi?" asked Jeff.

Emmy froze. He had been worried that a teacher would find him here. But meeting Jeff was way worse. By that time, Jeff was a notorious gangster who led The Little Red Berets. A member of Jeff's gang had threatened to stab him because Emmy had stolen his girl, and Jeff was notorious for his violence. Since Emmy had joined his new school, he had seen Jeff fight five times. And on each occasion, the fights had ended with his opponents in a bloody, unconscious mess. The guy fought like a lion with any sharp instrument he could lay his hands on. He was the first person Emmy had seen break a Coke bottle on his head so that he could use it to stab someone else. Once, three guys ambushed him at the school gate. And Jeff had, in one swift movement, lifted the first guy into the air and threw him over the school fence. Then he had turned on the other two guys who, despite yielding matchets, had taken to their heels in terror, hotly pursued by Jeff, who had a stick he had picked by the side of the road in one hand and a coke bottle which he had snatched off one of the soft drink crates of Pero's mother on the other hand.

The guy was a maniac. It was so bad that it was generally accepted in school that only an idiot would attempt to fight Jeff.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." Jeff assured him, "But you must teach me your secrets…."

To protect himself from bodily harm, Emmy had been inducted into the gang. Then he had practically opened a school of teenage playboys because before you knew it, the little red berets were not just the most feared gang in the school but also had all the hottest girls by their sides. In his final year, when Emmy got a girl pregnant, it was Jeff who carried him to Ebony Hospital to perform the necessary procedures. But what Emmy had now was a new kind of problem. And as had been happening for the past three years, Jeff was his go-to whenever he had a tough nut to crack.

******

They stopped at one of the local restaurants popularly called Mama Put joints. This joint was called NK's Delight and was a low building with four tables and a generally cramped atmosphere. At one end of the room was a stone barricade into which two slender sales girls would disappear and emerge with plates of hot food. The boys searched themselves desperately and found they could barely afford two solid plates. Pero, as usual, was not contributing but was anticipating a free meal. Emmy, who had a way with ladies, was dispatched to induce the sales girls to load their plates more than usual.

They were still thinking about their respective problems. Jackie had called the hospital before they left and learnt that things were not as usual with Jeff. He was still out cold. The boys did not know what to make of it. Jeff had never been unconscious; his opponents usually were.

"Who did you talk to?" asked Pero.

"One of the nurses picked up." Replied Jackie, not wanting to say much.

"Is it Jessica? That's the nurse that Jeff is screwing…" asked Emmy.

"Isn't that risky?"

"That Jeff is a bad guy."

"Why would it be risky?" asked Emmy.

"If she finds out that he is screwing other girls, she can mix one solid poison for him.."

"Leave that thing. Women have a fish brain. They won't do anything."

"I pity you." Said Pero.

Jackie was suddenly irritated by the turn the conversation had taken. The nurse he spoke to sounded concerned, and here were these idiots were talking rubbish. Their friend could die, for real. He looked at their faces and wondered if they even cared about Jeff. Did he care about Jeff, or was he just worried about the toolboxes? He watched their faces intently, and it hit him suddenly. They were indeed worried, but it was taboo to voice it. Because then it would be real, and God forbid they made it real. So they would talk about anything on earth except the matter at hand.

"Jeff would be fine, "said Pero, "I just know it…."

"He'd better be." Said Emmy, "Joy is refusing to terminate the pregnancy. Only Jeff would tell me what drugs to use so that she loses that baby."

"Bro, how come you didn't use protection? Idiot."

"It's sweeter that way."

"Idiot." Said Pero, "What are you going to do now?"

"Jeff is always fine. Don't worry." Said Jackie, thinking of the toolboxes he had to replace. You think you had problems until someone else mentioned theirs.

"Let's go." Said Pero, "I want to see him this evening."

"Idiot. He is unconscious…."

"I don't care; he has to wake up sooner or later…."

******

Doctor Evans pored over the hospital's records while drinking a relaxing glass of scotch. His shift at the General Hospital had been punishing, and all he wanted to do was go home and rest. But he had a dead body at the hospital, and in his experience, it was always best to address it as soon as possible. They had covered the body that morning and had to make arrangements to move him to the morgue. Getting a family member to pick up the bill and move the body before the next inspection would be better. Not that he would get into trouble, but he would rather not lose any favours over this. On the other side of his desk was Nurse Jessica, who was on the shift when Jeff arrived and knew a lot about him.

"Is anyone coming for him?" he asked Nurse Jessica.

"Not yet. No family member is picking. Not a surprise, he told me that he had not spoken to any of them in nearly a year."

"Are you saying we are stuck with him?"

"No. Some of his friends are coming; they should know his place…."

"Hope you didn't tell them that he's dead."

"No, Sir."

"Good. Make sure they get us to his family so they can move him out, never mind if they pay. I don't want a guy with a gunshot wound in my morgue. It would raise so many questions."

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

He downed his drinks and looked at Jeff's file again. Christ! What a waste of life, he thought. But he will be missed. The guy had been one of his best customers….

END