
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
“If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; Its lethal.”
Catch up on the first part of this story here.
*******
It was quite a ride that Monday morning. Despite leaving Ife at dawn, the journey lasted a little over two hours. Dozens of police checkpoints lined the road at every turn. The cab could only manage 50km/hour on the poorly maintained road for several minutes at a time. But as soon as fresh air flowed into the car, bringing the freshness of the country air to their senses, Alex and Tayo slept the whole time. The sickening bounce and sway of the car as it maneuvered through potholes and unevenly lined asphalt was not enough to stir the young men from the “distressing” sleep. Adebola, with his eyes wide open the whole time, hoped he wouldn’t have to make the trip again. He already felt road sick.
Every journey with a beginning has an end, so did this one. Alex woke up to the view of the emblem into the Polytechnic. It was nothing fancy, just a humongous concrete relic that was a constant reminder of the struggles that the school faced. The two concrete columns were defaced with campaign posters and all sort of illegible writings up to the height that one would require a ladder to etch a graffiti. With the way the emblem looked, it could easily symbolize the state of disrepair and ruins of the infrastructure that laid therein. It was a sharp contrast to the beautiful campus that Alex was used to.
That didn’t bother Alex. There was money to be made and it didn’t matter how the place looked.
He nudged his friend up. “We are here”
“Its about time” Tayo replied with feigned animation, cleaning off the spit dribble at the corner of his mouth.
“We arrived just in time. The first paper starts in 20mins and we must meet with Kapo first.” Adebola declared.
“Sure thing boss” and they alighted from the vehicle. Alex did not care to look back at the car.
Tayo did. He could hardly believe that they rode in the cramped steel entrapment that had a life of its own as it wobbled off into the road. The road had certainly taken its toll on the car.
Adebola led the way and the two friends walked at a safe distance. They were now in unfamiliar territory, on their own and without a back-up plan. They were at the mercies of their host. But Adebola posed no threat. He trudged on like a man with a purpose as they veered off into a beaten path and into the fringes behind the school lecture classrooms and administrative buildings.
The morning sunlight had unwrapped more colors from the sleepy monochrome the night before held in the town of Esa-Oke. But the fading colors of the building and the sudden glow of rusty orange of the unpaved path felt eerie and strange in contrast.
Alex and Tayo were led into a make-shift shed, one of the many, where students could buy quick supplies of stationaries, non-alcoholic drinks and similar materials. The shed was made of rusty aluminum sheets nailed together against wooden planks for support. There was only one person seated comfortably on a make-shift wooden bench. He was a diminutive middle-aged man, who wore a thin moustache under his over-sized nose. His face was anything but friendly, but when it broke into a smile, he appeared more agreeable.
His handshake felt warm when Alex took it, like someone who hadn’t slept much. But when he spoke, his voice carried the authority that was indisputable.
“Good morning, my name is Kapo. You must be Alex” he said with a smile.
The exchanged pleasantries as Alex introduced Tayo.
“Thank you for accepting to come over to Esa-Oke. I hope you had a smooth trip” He didn’t wait for a response as he continued.
Two young men walked into the shed, both dressed for the examination, it would seem.
“Everything is prepared for you you see. No one is going to trouble you. We have sorted everyone out.” Kapo continued.
“Here” he handed over his examination slip with his registration details to Alex.
“Just fil the details into the script and leave when you are done” Kapo instructed.
“Kapo, I don’t feel like writing exams today, can one of your mercenaries write for me?” the husky voice of one of the two guys who joined moments earlier filled the shed.
Adebola started to speak, but Kapo waved him quiet.
“Is your friend able to write for Lado?” Kapo was asking Alex.
“Sure thing Boss, as long as he is willing to pay for it right now” Tayo spoke for himself. The look on Alex’s face didn’t meet his approval.
“Then we have a deal” Lado’s husky voice responded
An envelope with money was quickly exchanged with Tayo and a registration slip sealed with a firm handshake and the spark of light at the end of a stick of cigarette. Lado puffed in satisfaction; you could tell that a burden had just been taken off him.
Adebola wished the friends well and directed them to the examination hall. At this point they were now truly all by themselves.
Alex and Tayo walked towards the hall with bated breaths. A careful observation of the terrain cleverly masked underneath a carefree stride would hide their anxiety. As they passed through the side of the designated examination hall, they saw students peering out of the window opening, that had since lost its glory, to gaze at them. Some in hushed tones, others pointing a finger, while some spoke with their eyes.
There was a building excitement from the other students in the hall as though they had long awaited their arrival.
It was now 8am.
As they approached the door into the building, the students broke into an animated cheer welcoming the two boys. The boys did not acknowledge their shouts of excitement but proceeded to take their seat in the 100-capacity hall.
Some students tried to meet their gaze in acknowledgment, some with a smile, some with pleading eyes and others with scorn. They couldn’t quite tell who was friendly or not, but the less said the better.
“It must be a big deal to have students from Great Ife in their midst” Tayo gloated as he pulled out a wooden chair with numbers matching the registration number on the slip he held. Alex was on the other side of the hall.
The invigilator, a young unassuming man, called the students to order as the chatter continued minutes after the two boys were long settled.
Tayo wore a smile when he saw the first set of questions.
“This is indeed easy money” he concluded.
*******
Kapo was waiting at the shed when the two boys arrived.
The first two papers had been sorted and just as they had imagined, they didn’t break a sweat. They had earned the first amount for the week. If this was a sign of things to come, the boys were in for a fun-filled hustle.
Word had spread quickly about the two boys and their mission. Students stood in clusters with animated voices as the two boys walked by. Some even mouthed some pleasantries which were never replied.
“You guys are the real deal” Kapo gushed, his tobacco-stained breath assaulting Alex’s nostrils.
“I heard you were done in record time like it meant nothing. This is amazing” Lado babbled on.
“Would you like some palm wine and cigarette? Let’s celebrate” Kapo started to collect disposable cups to pass on to the boys.
“We are very hungry. I think we should find something to eat first” a disinterested Tayo replied.
“Great! Here is the plan” Kapo paused to light up another cigarette.
“We will go to this local restaurant first to eat and then we will visit the palace of the Owamiran of Esa-Oke. You know as strangers in this land you need to pay homage to the rulers of the land” small rings of faint smoke escaped his lips as he spoke.
“Then there is a party later tonight at my girlfriend’s apartment in town. I am sure you will find our fun side very interesting” with this said, he let out a throaty laughter, low and reverberating enough for Lado to join in.
“Would there be enough girls there Kapo, because there is no party without the ladies?” Tayo’s animated enquiries elicited even more laughter from the two men.
“Plenti girls, so tey you go taya”
“Fine girls o” Tayo teased.
This time, they nodded their heads.
Adebola was nowhere around.
***********

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

I want to tell you something about confidence that most people get spectacularly wrong.
And I mean that without arrogance — because I got it wrong too, for longer than I care to admit. I walked into rooms with my chest out and my chin up and told myself that was confidence. I practiced certain expressions in the mirror before big presentations. I rehearsed answers to imagined tough questions in the shower until the water ran cold.
I looked confident. I performed confidence quite convincingly, if I do say so myself.

There is a conversation you have been postponing.
You know the one. It has been living rent-free in the back of your head for days, possibly weeks. You have rehearsed it in the shower. You have drafted opening lines in your head while stuck on the Third Mainland Bridge. You have imagined seventeen different versions of how it could go, and approximately sixteen of them ended badly.
So you have said nothing. You have smiled when you did not feel like smiling, agreed when you wanted to disagree, and quietly let something important fester because the alternative — the actual conversation — felt like detonating a device in a room you still have to live in.

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

Let me take you somewhere. Not to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean — at least, not yet. First, to Lagos. Nigeria. Sometime in the late 1980s. A teenager who should probably have been revising for exams is instead sitting cross-legged on the floor of a library, holding a book that is older than most of the furniture around it, reading about a city beneath the sea.

This is my story of discovering a film that challenged everything I thought I knew about the gift of time, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to leap beyond your limitations and appreciate the beauty of growing old.
This story explores the paradox of immortality and why a movie from 2015 still resonates so deeply with audiences today.
I hope you find it worth your time.

This is my story, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to question what you know and leap beyond your limitations.
This story is about the audacity of belief, the power of a well-told lie, and the journey to unlearn the things that poisoned my teenage mind.
I hope you find it worth your time.

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

There is a peculiar kind of madness that does not arrive with hallucinations or trembling hands. It arrives quietly. At two in the morning. In a small desert town in New Mexico. It sounds like an idling diesel engine somewhere in the distance — except there is no engine. It sounds like a bass note being held by an invisible orchestra — except there is no orchestra.

Let me confess something. Long before LinkedIn articles, podcasts, and leadership keynotes became my world, I was a teenager sneaking to the library

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

There is a particular kind of silence that falls on a man when the phone stops ringing, the proposals go unanswered, and the diary that once groaned under the weight of appointments sits quietly — almost mockingly — open. If you have ever been there, you know it.

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.
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5 thoughts on “Mercenaries for Hire – a true life story Pt 2”
Pingback: How to think on your feet – staying cool and confident under pressure – Akin Akingbogun
They are so confident with this. Now I feel something bad is about to happen. Hope Alex and Tayo are safe though?
They adventured into the examination hall ( self confident ) what an adventure , awaiting pt .
Interesting to read, you sure know how to keep one glued to your stories. By the way this caught my attention…. ‘tobacco-stained breath assaulting Alex’s nostrils.’… I mean the message sank without a hitch .
Nice one Akin
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