Chapter 23: Chapter 23

“I deposited ten thousand Ghana Cedis in your MTN mobile money (Momo) account, three weeks ago. As if that is not enough, you have cracked the code and sold the scraps as well. What else do you want from me? Mind you, if I sink, I sink with you.” Greg fumed.

Killer leaned by the big ‘Onyina’ tree behind the National Lotteries office premise close to the Kwame Nkrumah Mausoleum in Accra. He was shocked; his eyes wide with open-mouthed. He knew Greg as a cool gentleman, taciturn and shrewd. Perhaps, what he did not know about Greg was the inert rowdiness hidden inside his instinctive being ready to be activated when the need arose.

The contact between Greg and Killer started some fifteen years ago when Greg staked three numbers in the National lottery. The said numbers were single 1, 45, and 90. Actually, that was the first time Greg tried his hand on betting. He needed the money so badly to replace his old smoking Hyundai Avante car engine. He knew then that the odds against winning the Ghana National lottery was very high, yet he was bent on taking the risks, since the satisfaction of winning a minimum cash of GHC 10,000 was greater than the nine Ghana cedis cash he will used to stake the numbers in the lottery.

Greg went to Killer to stake these numbers. Hardly did he knew that, it would be better to perm the numbers and even find the numbers’ counterparts in order to stand a greater chance of winning the minimum cash or more. Counterpart numbers are numbers that add up with the original numbers to give a sum of 90. Killer advised Greg to perm his numbers into 1-45; 1-90 and 45-90. He further permed the counterparts into 89-45; 89-90 and finally 1-89-90; 1-45-89 and 45-89-90, which summed up to nine Ghana cedis. Killer took his time to explain the implications of perming the numbers and making sure that Greg had exhausted all odds to help him win the lottery.

On Saturday evening at exactly 17:00 O’clock GMT, the National Lottery results were announced and one of the numerous numbers staked by Greg dropped from the five numbers announced. The numbers announced by the National Lottery results for the week was 1-2-3-4-5. Greg, out of naivety thought he had won something and happily ran to Killer to demand his money, but was disappointed to hear that he needed at least two of his numbers to drop in order to win something. This initially led to argument and nearly developed into serious fight until some bystanders intervened to settle matters. Killer, on humanitarian grounds dashed Greg nine Ghana cedis to compensate and relieve him from his loss. He did not want to accept the compensation from Killer, but had to after persistent push. Greg handed him a call card before leaving the scene. Killer followed with a call a few days after. From that day onward, the two buddies became friends and their friendship has grown over the years.

He was known as Killer by fans and loved ones all over Accra and Onabonetso, a suburb of the city, where he was born some thirty-five years ago. However, his real name was Jeremy Kofi Akote. Indeed, Jeremy was his first and given name, whilst naturally he was called Kofi, because he was born on a Friday. The family name was Akote. There was a belief in his tribe that family names had effect on the destiny of the bearer. Killer can recalled three decades of misery, hardship, humiliation and abject poverty, when he was growing up in his father’s compound in the midst of twenty other siblings, perhaps due to his surname Akote.

The Akotes lived in a single room in a compound house in Onabonetso. There were other eight families living within the same compound, which could boast of one locally made toilet and a bathroom. The Akotes were sup-ported by the meagre income that came from their father’s fishing business. His mother was a fishmonger who dried the fish on a wired smoking rack or colander and sent to the market during Tuesday market days. Moreover, some of the fish leftovers are brought home to feed the large family size of the Akotes. Killer’s mother was the eldest of Papa Akote’s twelve mistresses and the only one living with the family in the compound. In actual fact, Killer’s mother was the only one whom Papa Akote performed marriage rights and brought to live in the family home. She had borne three kids with Papa Akote; all boys. The remaining eleven women were impregnated out of wedlock and forced to live with their families. Upon all his shortfalls, Papa Akote always made sure that he brought home all the children born outside of the marriage to be cared for by his senior wife.

Like father like son, Jeremy started his sexual escapades at the tender age of twelve, when he entered Onabonetso Secondary School. He was so witty in the game that dur-ing his first term in the school, three girls went on suspension because they fought over him. One bright Monday morning in November, the headmaster of Onabonetso Secondary School came to the Assembly of students to address them. The students gathered, upon seeing him, started murmuring, “eeih, trouble come…what is the problem again?” “Today be today! The rat does not come out in the day, except there is some-thing smelling in the air.” “Hmmm…...Maybe somebody is in hot waters: a heat so hot that it frustrated the mouse to run to suck the cat’s breast.” “Double jeopardy!” The headmaster of the school: nicknamed O’long John Silver shouted. “Silence, everybody!” His real name was Master Akompi. However, he earned the pet name O’long John Silver from the students due to his status as a person us-ing a walking stick to support one good leg and the limping other.

“Jeremy Akote and Akwele Lamptey, step forward.” O’long John Silver ordered the two students to stand in front of the whole school. None of the students knew what was going on; albeit, all eyes were directed at the two. O’long John stretched his hands to hold the two students by their shoulders and said, “Have you seen these two ‘aristocrats’? They are students like you; but they have chosen to elevate themselves to the arena of grown-ups. They have enjoyed each other’s ‘special juice.’ At their age, I will call it ‘special killer’ instead of juice.” Some of the students interjected and shouted, “Killer ooooh Killer; Killer ooh Killer…..” O’long John Silver continued. “For their punishment, they will receive 12 lashes of canes on their buttocks and backs. Now four strong boys come forward and hold their hands and legs.” Akwele started crying and begging the headmaster to cane her palms instead of her buttocks or back. This continued for close to about ten minutes before O’long John Silver agreed to cane her palms. After each stroke of cane, Akwele would clasp her two palms and rubbed them together to mitigate the pain a bit. Sometimes, she would pull her hands back for the cane to miss, of which O’long John would say that it will not count and will re-start the whole caning process again. Oftentimes, Akwele would alternate her left and right palms to receive the canes. After one full hour Akwele Lamptey managed to receive her punishment. Thereafter, Jeremy was bundled by the four strong boys, who held his hands and legs with his head facing downwards and back and buttocks facing upwards. O’long John took another long cane made from strong flexible raffia. He beat Jeremy’s buttocks and back twelve times, amidst wailing, crying, twisting and writhing of body in pain by Jeremy; whilst the students chanted and shouted ‘Killer…’ ‘Killer….’ ‘Killer…’ From that day onwards, Jeremy Akote came to be known as ‘Killer’ in the school, the community and the whole suburb of Onabonetso.

Indeed, Jeremy Kofi Akote, also known as ‘Killer’ spent only one term in Onabonetso Secondary School before he impregnated, Akwele Lamptey. His father, Papa Akote was raged about Jeremy’s action. Why won’t he fumes? All his hopes were dashed. He has wasted his money and efforts for nothing. His first son Jeremy has failed to set good example for the other children to follow. The future of the Akote family looked pale. He therefore asked Jeremy to stop schooling to find work in order to cater for the heavily loaded Akwele and the seed. Meanwhile, at the tender age of twelve, Jeremy was not crafted for any kind of work but menial and brawny jobs. He had no choice than to join his father in the fishing industry. Nine months after this incident, the girl delivered a set of triplets; a boy and two girls. Jeremy’s mother adopted the kids and allowed Akwele to live with them in the same single room.

“My son, it is not that we don’t love you. Look at our living condition. Twenty children plus your father and I in one single room is distasteful and very distressing. Are you not worried or even ashamed? Now, your triplets and Akwele are with us. I think it is about time you move out of the room.” Jeremy’s mother pleaded with her son as they stood in front of the compound house discussing such sensitive family matter out of the ears of other occupants. “Ma, I have nowhere to go. Beside, where do you want me to go?” Jeremy asked. “Kofi, don’t get me wrong. Talk with your friends and let us see whether you can find somewhere to lodge and sleep. It could just be for the night only, so that you while away the day here, okay!” Jeremy stood there quietly watching his mother. “Ma, I have heard you.” Jeremy left his mother uncere-moniously. “Kofi, where are you going? Come back. Are you not the one I am talking to? Okay, you go! But don’t come back in the evening to ask for any food.” His moth-er lashed out.

Killer left home at age twelve and promised himself never to return, until he becomes very successful to pull his family from their perpetual nummular crutches. In other words, he will return as the best man from Onabonetso with good job, immaculate mansion, well dressed, great skin, classy car and a lot of money to take care of his triplets, their mother and finally move his entire family to the up market vicinity of East Legon or take them out of poverty altogether.

From that day onwards, Killer spent all his daytime socialising with his friends at the park adjacent to Kwame Nkrumah Mausoleum and opposite the National Lotteries Building. That place became his new special hide out to discover a whole new world different from what he knew before. The park presented grassland that looked like a green ocean. The softness of it was tantamount to touching a light blanket. This park was situated parallel to a section of the Gulf of Guinea spread along the southern tip of Onabonetso. Different sizes of kiosks and containers stood at its entrance, which served as the sleeping places for many of the people who trooped to the park every day. The park appeared to a new comer as a mini market. Different people: males and females, young and old, tall and short, mad and sane patronised the park for different reasons. Therefore it would be unwise to ask passersby of their reasons to walk or sit or stand in and around the park.

Killer and his friends started their child labour in the park as shoeshine boys. Day in and day out, they crisscrossed the grassland looking for customers to mend or polish their foot wears. This has been his lifestyle for close to two years until he graduated into the lotto business. For seven days in a week, Killer woke up as early as 5:00 AM from his blue kiosk hideout situated along the entrance to the Park. He quickly ran towards the nearby beach of the Gulf of Guinea, where he finds his usual isolated corner to ease himself from the residues of the previous day’s food he ate. This practice was not new to the dwellers of this community; since the place lack basic amenities like water, toilet and decent bath. Even electricity to the kiosks was illegally connected for various reasons. One reason was that the park was not created as a residential community. Therefore the Electricity Company of Ghana did not recognise the existence of the kiosks and cannot allocate electricity metres to them. The inhabitants had contracted some unscrupulous Technicians to extend electric cables from the main high tensions passing around. The kiosks were equipped with various sophisticated electronic gadgets to wit: television, mobile phones, blenders, refrigerators, computers, sound systems and many more equipment and yet they did not pay bills to the Electricity Company of Ghana. After five minutes of emptying his young stomach, Killer came back to the blue kiosk. He picked small 500 millilitres sachet water and stood outside to wash his mouth, face, hands and two legs. He walked two metres towards the Park’s wall to pluck bougainvillea branches: removed the leaves and used the stick of about 10 centimetres to brush his teeth. He then picked a small trapezium box, of which he had stuffed his working tools in and set off to do business for the day. He walked up and down, east and west, north and south of the park mending and polishing customers’ shoes until he closed at 6:00 PM. With a scanty income of 5 Ghana Cedis a day, he used part to buy food and the rest to pay for the rent of the kiosk he sleeps in and utilities. For the next two years, Killer continued to work in a similar manner. By dint of hard work he was able to save enough money to rent a small kiosk which he used to start his lotto business.

Certainly, his age disqualified him from operating lottery business as a marketer, agent or underwriter. No registered Lotto company will employ him, neither the National Lotto Authority as a state agency. In spite of these shortcomings, Killer used part of the money he had saved from his shoe mending business to print lotto receipts. He has entered into the Banker-to-Banker lotto business. This is an illegal quasi-lotto underwriting trade operating under the guise of the National Lotto Authority. Killer started this new business by selling his own printed lotto receipts to his friends and other minors parading in and around the park. His lotto kiosk was located beside his rented accommodated kiosk. Young Killer began working in the kiosk as early as 7:00 AM from Monday to Sunday. He did not have any specific time to close except on Saturdays when he has to close at 4:00 PM in anticipation of the draw for the National Lottery results at 5:00 PM on the dot.

This was mind boggling and life changing experience for many lotto enthusiasts. They lived in anticipation of winning the jackpot every blessed weekend. During the week prior to the draw, lotto forecasters spent their time and energy making calculations and coming out with possible numbers to be drawn against all odds; some-times at the costs of their stomach and personal hygiene. Interested persons approached these lotto pundits for probable sure bankers to stake in exchange for money. In addition if the numbers dropped during the draw, they demand certain percentage of the amount won from the winner. This was a whole industry on its own. Operators in the industry are self-employed and do not see the need of seeking any formal employment. In one way or the other this was a game of chance and betting, and yet the pundits believed that there are plans, codes and formulae to crack before one can win the game of lotto.

Killer did not have the flair to be a pundit. Neither did he has the money to open lotto operating business as an underwriter or marketer. But from infancy, he had been a master schemer, who could outwit girls with his talented brain. “I am the lotto Killer of the country. If you follow me, you will be rich instantly.” There was a voice from the crowd. “So is the lotto killer rich?” Killer was taken aback but responded, “Who said that?” There was no sound. One enthusiast encouraged Killer to continue. “Please, Lotto Killer, continue, we are all ears.” Killer gave a faint smile and said. “Hmmm…. these are the faint–hearted blokes. Anyway, let’s go on. There are two kinds of luck when it comes to winning lottery prizes. These are the dumb luck and smart luck. Dumb luck happens by accident or coincidence. Winning by dumb luck is not very easy. After playing quick picks like birth dates, death dates, car number plates and other lucky numbers and then waiting for dumb luck to strike; it is time you try lottery systems that can improve your luck and winning chances. Smart luck is when you give fate a helping hand. Smart luck increases your win probability through the use of strategy. Smart people never wait for dumb luck.”

He spread the Alpha Lotto Forecast print on a table and used a red ball pen to circle the year ‘1962’. He traced the weeks down to forty-fifth week in that year. “The numbers that dropped on that week were 17, one seven; 1, single 1; 20, two zero; 21, two one and 71, seven one.” A crowd of lotto enthusiasts had gathered around a table and a blackboard listening to this young lotto prodigy called Killer. Many of these people were making their own sketches in their own Alpha Lotto Forecasts newsprint they were holding. On this particular day, Gregory Donkor was among the crowd. Killer walked to the blackboard. “Now, count forty-five weeks down after these numbers, what did you see?” There was no answer to this question. So Killer went ahead to do his calculations on the board. “Okay, let’s continue. When you count forty-five weeks, it will take you to the thirty-eighth week of the year 1963. That week the numbers that dropped were 19, one nine; 69, six nine; 70, seven zero; 13, one three and 89, eight nine. Beautiful! In fact, this lotto machine is very interesting. Look at what it did. These numbers were actually the counterparts of the numbers played on the forty-fifth week of 1962. But this time around the machine reversed the numbers and played them ditto ditto.” The people gathered including Greg clapped for Killer. Please pay particular attention to the numbers that dropped the week after. That is the thirty-ninth week.” Greg quickly shouted single one ninety.

“Good. The machine never played this plan again until last year on the forty-fifth week. The numbers for that week were 9, single nine; 49, four nine; 50, five zero; 79, seven nine and 63, six three. Consider the positions of these numbers and compare with the numbers that were dropped last week, which was the forty-fifth week and the thirty-eighth for this year. What I meant was last week, the numbers played were 27, two seven; 11, one one; 40, four zero; 41, four one; and 81, eight one.” Killer dropped the chalk on the table and rubbed his hands. “Can I get my money before I give you the winning numbers for the week?” He went round the crowd to collect ten Ghana cedis from each of the people present. Without counting, he pushed the money into a small bag hanged around his waist. He picked the chalk one more time to write boldly 1-90. “These are two sure bankers for this week. It will not fail. Trust me.” Killer concluded and left the scene.

“Stake these numbers for me, Mr. Forecaster turned underwriter.” Greg handed a piece of paper with the following numbers written on it: 1-45-90. Killer collected the paper and studied the writings. “Oh, were you at my forecasting class this morning? I gave out two sure bankers not three. Where did you get the 45 from? Greg quickly responded. “I dreamt about it yesternight. So when you sold the numbers 1-90 to us, l thought it wise to add it to the two numbers to complete the chart.” Kill-er was impressed. He kept nodding. “Anyway, in the game of chance, never say never. How much do you want to stake for the three numbers? “One cedi, of course.” “Sir, if you have any extra money, then you can brighten your chances by perming these numbers and even finding their counterparts. An advice!” Killer said. “Okay, perm the numbers and let’s see how it goes.” Greg agreed. “You will have nine lines for nine Ghana cedis: Four, three-number lines and five, two-number lines.” Killer summed up. The stakes were: 1-45-90; 1-89-90; 45-89-90; 1-45-89; 1-45; 1-90; 45-90; 45-89; 89-90. Each stake costs one Ghana Cedi. Greg handed ten Ghana cedis note to Killer who gave him a change of one Ghana cedi and the lotto receipts. He quickly left the scene.

At exactly five o’clock on an usual Saturday evening, the National Lottery numbers reported for the week were 1, single one; 2, single two; 3, single three; 4, single four; and 5, single five. Ten minutes past five, Greg accosted Killer. “My brother, have a look at this receipt?” Killer collected the lottery receipt from him and examined it critically. He gave it back to Greg. “Sorry, bossu, you didn’t win.” “Why? I had one, four and five on my ticket.” Greg asked in a striking tone. Killer smiled and looked at Greg sarcastically. He realised that Greg was a novice in the game of lotto. “Indeed, it is true that you have one, four and five on your ticket. But actually you staked amongst other numbers single one, forty-five; which is different from the winning numbers of single one, single two, single three, single four and single five.” Killer summarised.

Greg was shaking his head in disappointment. “What, my friend, I was not born yesterday. You either pay me or we dirty ourselves here.” He snorted. Greg held killer’s collar and attempted to strangle him but the latter was too strong to be cowed. He grasped the former’s two hands and quickly clasped them together and used a force similar to the one used by an angry bear to break tree trunk into two to push Greg away. Greg body mass was hurled back to a distance of two metres. He stabilised himself and angrily dashed at Killer. He threw his right hand but Killer dodged off to the left. Greg accelerated to the right and fell down. Probably the force Greg exerted to hit Killer and missed was inversely related to the body mass of Greg himself. Hence the speed or acceleration with which he crushed unto the ground. The impact of his fall attracted some bystanders, who came there to intervene. “Stop fighting; nowadays who fight outside; what is the problem; Oh Killer, why?” All these questions were asked at the same time by many people who came to feast their eyes on the free for all fight between Killer and Greg. There was no answer to any of the questions. An elderly man held Greg’s hand and walked him towards the gate. “Take it easy my brother. The game of lotto is very complicated, which requires tact.” The elderly man advised Greg. “Yeah, yeah, you are right.” Greg tried to be friendly. “Now my brother, I will leave you here. Just take care of yourself.” Greg removed a call card from his wallet and gave to the elderly man. “This is my number. You can reach me anytime.” The elderly man studied the card and said. “Thank you. I will let Killer call to apologise to you. Okay?” Greg nodded in affirmative and parted way with the elderly man.

Three days after this incident, Greg received a WhatsApp call. “Hello, Good Afternoon.” “Good Afternoon. This is Greg on the line. May I know who is calling?” The voice from the other end sounded very coarse. “Bossu, My name is Jeremy Akote. But fans called me Killer: the lotto forecaster whom you had a fracas with the last time.” “Nhmmmmm. Yeah, yeah! How did you get my number?” “Mr. Annan, the elderly man whom you gave your card to the other day gave it to me.” “What can I do for you now?” Now just have patience and hear me out.” Greg relaxed. “Okay, say what you want to say.” “Please bossu, I want to apologise for what happened the other day.” “I have forgotten about it, my brother.” “Great! For you to see the sincerity of my apology, I wish to propose this offer to you.” There was silence on the phone, until Greg shouted. “Hello, are you there? I am listening.” “Oh sorry! Like I was saying earlier, I propose to stake for the next nine weeks, your two numbers: single one, ninety (1-90) at the costs of one Ghana cedis for you. If these numbers drop in any of the weeks, we share the winning booty pro rata.” Greg replied. “Why do you want to do that? If I want to stake lotto, I can pay for it myself.” “I know that, sir, but the good book says let us live peaceably with one another.” “Well you have said so; so be it.” Greg resigned. “Thank you for your understanding. I hope we become friends hence. Have a good day.” Killer hung down the phone.

Six weeks after this call, Killer and Greg were seen seated in a small way side spot around Onabonetso, enjoying some Alomo bitters mixed with ‘Club’ beer and onion garnished goat kebabs. This celebration was arranged by Killer to appease Greg for their last encounter. “Mr. Greg, as I told you the other day, the one cedi I staked for your two numbers 1-90; has won you two hundred and forty Ghana cedis.” Killer dropped two hundred cedis notes and two twenty cedis notes on the table in front of Greg. He smiled and said. “I took it that you want to dash me some cash today.” “Why, Mr. Greg?” “I never took this serious. So I am shock to the bone.” “Well, you are dealing with a very honest and principled Ghanaian.” “Hahahaahahah….thank God, at least I have seen one honest Ghanaian in my lifetime.” Greg took one hundred cedis note and returned the remaining one hundred and forty cedis back to Killer. “I am thankful for this.” “If you insist, bossu.” Killer said calmly.

They continued to sip the mixture of Alomo bitters and beer drink in silence, whilst intermittently used their in-cisor teeth to pull gently, one at a time, the delicious chevon, neatly arranged on sticks and garnished with onions and green pepper, which is generously salted. From the way and manner their jaws are munching up and down, one did not need a rocket science to know that this was an adult goat not a kid meat which has been marinated in grounded hot chili and roasted with char. It was sweet to the core that defined a relationship that had existed between these two cronies: from unknown to bad blood and finally breaking the glass ceiling of good friendship. Thus corroborating the old saying that if friendship lasted longer than seven years, the parties in-volved are no longer friends but a family.

“Bossu, in this business, we do not allow our heart to lead us.” Killer said calmly. “Then, why are you avoiding me, including my calls? Greg fumed. “Take it easy, Bossu! Now you have seen me. What do you want to know?” Greg shrugged the question and quickly asked. “Have you received the last money I sent through your mobile money account?” “Yes, the ten grand.” Killer answered and Greg nodded in agreement. After a momentarily pause, Killer resumed. “Actually, by cracking the code, I believe you meant dismantling the VIN.” “Yes.” Greg answered. His eyeballs rolled from left to right trying to scan his environment for any other human presence. He felt relaxed when he could not find any. “Right, I personally made sure that all the seventeen VIN symbols were scrapped off before chopping and stripping off the thing. The hulk was later mangled and sold as scrap.” “Good.” Greg affirmed and Killer confirmed that “So far, so good.”

“I can confidently say that the make, model, license number, Vehicle Identification Number and no known signatures were left at the scene. A perfect work done! The victim is doomed forever. Haahahaha……trust me, Bossu!” Killer reaffirmed Greg. “Okay, if you said so; so must it be. Now with the ten grand and the chopping and stripping, you are fully sorted out.” Greg concluded. “You don’t have any worry, bossu.” Killer said before the two parted company and left for their separate ways.