CHAPTER ONE

15^th July, 2011

Port Harcourt

Rivers State

My name is Tamunotonye Ibierembo Abbey-Hart, an offspring of late Chief Tamunoibuomi Apiri Abbey-Hart, whose death is the reason for all these narrative. At twenty-seven years of age, I know little or nothing about the occult or marine world.

Everything I’m going to say or narrate happened within a year, and although I do not have any specific reason for doing this, I feel it has to be done. This is because after all I’d experienced in the past one year, it is important that persons all over the world should know the powers and forces that exist on this planet, which they have no knowledge about.

Surprisingly, the word ‘marine,’ to the best of my knowledge, only concerned the activities of fishermen, animals and plants that live in the sea, a member of an armed force in the United States or United Kingdom who is specially trained for military duties at sea as well as on land, offshore oil exploration activities and freight activities on the high seas… Anyway, let me delve into what I came here for before you lose interest in what you’re about to read; and so the story goes like this…

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It’d been six months since the final burial of my late father, after which mysterious things began to happen to all the entire wealth my father and his immediate family members possessed. The last time I bothered to check (a week after his final burial), my father’s estate stood at a whooping seven billion Naira (#7,000,000,000.00), but as I sit in this empty church auditorium, that same estate is not even up to a million Naira (#1,000,000).  This is after all the remaining tangible assets had been liquidated and stashed in a savings account in Access Bank in my name.

For more than an hour that Tuesday evening, I sat quietly staring at the pulpit, while allowing my mind to stray to past events of the last few months, until I decided to check the time on my wristwatch. The time showed five-thirty, as I stood up slowly, rubbed my smooth head with my right palm, and began to head for my younger sister’s apartment where I was presently ‘squatting.’ Although I felt ashamed to be ‘squatting’ with my younger sister, I felt that the only advantage it had was that it ‘hid’ me from unwanted friends and acquaintances of my parents who might desire to visit their late friend’s children.

I knew in thirty minutes people would begin to trickle into the church for a weekly Bible study known as ‘Digging Deep,’ where a particular minister led the congregation to dig deep into the word of God – the Holy Bible. I smiled at the thought of the name, while thinking of how best to dig into the Holy Bible which had never provided answers to all the questions that presently troubled my mind. Buttoning my jacket, while walking briskly to the gate, I was stopped by a male security guard who was also referred to as a ‘holy policeman.’ He recognised me due to my mother’s commitment to the church and its growth.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, with a look of suspicion.

“Just surviving sir, just surviving,” I replied with a forced smile.

“Aren’t you staying for digging deep?” he pressed.

“Today’s fifteenth,” I answered impatiently, “the doctor wants to see me concerning my mother’s condition…” I lied.

At the mention of my mother he quickly discontinued the conversation and bade me farewell, while I kept walking to the main road, hoping my sister had not left her apartment. Walking down in the July cold that penetrated my body, the jacket notwithstanding, I regarded the entire situation as funny; that I, Tamunotonye Ibierembo Abbey-Hart who once gave out huge donations, and awarded multi-million Naira contracts, was now jobless and presently ‘squatting’ with his younger sister. I swore to get to the bottom of the whole mystery with the last drop of my blood if the need arose. But that didn’t matter minutes later, when my tired frame stood a few metres in front of her apartment door, unable to wade off the brutal feelings of hunger which ravaged my stomach.

It was exactly ten minutes past six when I knocked thrice on the door. Two seconds passed and I was about to repeat the knocking when I was stopped by my sister’s countenance. She must have applied some oil to the door hinges, because no sound emanated when the door swung open. The temporary deafness caused by hunger…

“Good evening big brother,” she greeted.

“May I come in?” I whispered after responding to her greeting.

“Sure,” she replied, stepping aside for me to pass. I entered the apartment and sat down dejectedly on the small settee in the sitting room, while unbuttoning my jacket at the same time. Thoughts of my late father and sick mother which were seeping into my mind were soon ‘interrupted’ as my eyes met my sister who came to sit in the sitting room after bolting the front door. I had known my sister to be a big fan of skimpy dresses, but I didn’t expect something of the sort she presently wore, while looking like a cheap office bitch to me at the same time.

The grey suit she wore had a very low V-neck with a tight white camisole which pushed out her breasts. The heavy make-up she wore on the other hand, only aggravated the situation, as she resembled a vampire who took a break from drinking blood from a bucket. I always tried from time immemorial to avoid trying to caution her about her skimpy mode of dressing, because it always led to her being man-handled by her elder brother. She looked at me with her legs crossed as she twisted her lips slowly.

“How’s mum?” she asked trying to adjust her shoulder length ‘hair’.

“You know how things are for me,” I began, “you should’ve dropped by at the hospital to see her as soon as you finished from the office.”

“What do you take me for, your secrMarine Brothers Societyry?” she retorted with a deep sigh. “Anyway things aren’t easy for me also, because my finances are in a mess, coupled with a mass depreciation of the shares I own on the stock market…”

I was about to throw another question at her when she continued.

“About the fifty thousand Naira you asked me to give you for mummy’s medical expenses, I don’t have it, and I don’t think I presently own anything which any bank might be interested in to use as a collateral if I were to borrow some money.”

I looked at her with scorn before replying her, while trying to control my anger at the same time.

“Listen Tamunoboma,” I began by calling her name, I’m not asking you to lend me the money. I’m asking you to give me Fifty Thousand Naira, to complete the required amount the doctors are demanding for.”

“Of course, I know the amount the doctors are demanding for, five hundred and fifty thousand naira, for the operation and other expenses, how could I possibly forget?”

I felt defeated as my eyes travelled from her cleavages to her smooth carob-coloured legs, and back to her left wrist, which was strapped with a beautiful (and expensive) Chopard  wristwatch. Something in my throat stopped me from talking or asking the saucy Princess any more questions, as she stood up slowly and began to catwalk to her bedroom.

“I’m dead tired Tonye, and there are only two things I desire right now, a cold shower and undisturbed sleep, okay?” Without waiting for a response, she proceeded to her bedroom while unbuttoning her jacket at the same time. I didn’t need any Prophet to tell me that I had to look for something to eat while the feeling of hunger soon superseded the anger that had been building up during the brother-sister conversation. 

I stood up from where I sat and headed for the kitchen, when I heard the bathroom shower being turned on by my sister, who was probably getting ready to satisfy one of her desires. Inside the kitchen, I took a knife and a chopping board, set it on the kitchen cupboard, while looking for a lighter at the same time to light the gas cooker. I went back to the small dining room and headed for the chest freezer, which I opened to collect two eggs, some fresh peppers and tomatoes.

I  was about to return to  the kitchen when I stopped abruptly with my gaze on the television screen, staring at Timothy Ihonvbere, one of my former course mates back at the university. He was being interviewed by the national TV station with regards to maritime activities in the country. It was not the publicity being given to him by the media that surprised me, rather it was his position in the maritime industry and society in general that surprised me. This was the same person, who, exactly sixteen months ago always carried a large brown envelope containing his credentials, looking for any white collar job he could lay his hands on.

I sat down to listen to the interview, after which I could deduce that this former course mate of mine in the university years back, now owned the second largest shipping company in the whole of West Africa. The interview was about to end when I stood up, about to return to the kitchen, when the word ‘perfect’ came out of his mouth. He continued by adding the same word to other answers he gave to the host’s questions, and in the process, he kept mentioning ‘perfect life,’ ‘perfect entrepreneur,’ ‘perfect business,’ until the host ended the interview.

Seconds later, I was chopping fresh peppers and tomatoes when the words he spoke kept ringing in my ears. This was definitely not ordinary; for a former job applicant, within sixteen months to become a multimillionaire in the shipping industry. I poured the chopped tomatoes and pepper into a small container, broke two eggs into the mixture, and whisked it with a fork. Satisfied with the texture, I fetched two sachets of Indomie instant noodles from the cupboard and emptied their contents into a small pot on the gas cooker. Thereafter, I poured a cup of water into the pot, lit the gas cooker and paused for a moment to think about my course mate who was now a millionaire, believing there was much more to the physical fame and fortune the ‘boy’ possessed.

I managed to snap out of my reverie while continuing with my cooking. I reduced the flame, emptied the seasoning and chilli powder in the pot and covered it for a few minutes. While waiting for the food to get done, I kept staring around the kitchen like a stranger in the apartment. A little over two minutes later, I opened the pot and poured the egg batter into it while stirring the contents at the same time. Back when I was rich, I knew I could never eat something like this for dinner, because as far as I was concerned, it was…impossible, with all that money at my disposal.

Putting out the flame few minutes later, I began to dish out the food while allowing my mind to stray to Timothy. Later, while devouring my meal, I began to think of my mother in the hospital, and most of the things the doctors had been telling me. I knew my mother had never been sick in her life, not even once. This was due to her frequent medical check-ups, physical exercise, countless sessions of yoga, meditation and her strict vegMarine Brothers Societyrian diet. Something had to be done, I thought to myself, because I wasn’t going to let my mother die because of Fifty Thousand Naira.

Halfway into my meal, there was a sudden blackout, which was followed by complete darkness. Hearing a neighbour somewhere outside putting on his generating set, I stood up and groped my way to the light switches, television and every other electrical appliance in the sitting room to switch them off, before continuing my meal in darkness. To me, that was the Power Holding Company’s way of wishing me goodnight while I ate in darkness and silence.