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Nurse Eliza, London (2026)

27/02/2026

Majority of people are asking “where’s your Awka girlfriend ? where’s your Awka girlfriend’?.

If I get 1K likes and shares on this post I will tell the full story.

Una know say I be deacons child so I don’t lie. I won’t leave any story untold.

Let’s go.

27/02/2026

PART 3 : THE FRIDGE.

Good morning, my readers.

I just got back from work and saying I’m exhausted would be an understatement. Last night was pure chaos. At some point, I found myself wondering if nursing in Nigeria is really this tough, especially with how little they’re paid?

Let’s continue this story before it starts looking like “one year, one block” 🤣 Only those who lived in Ogui back in the day will understand that phrase. There used to be a building opposite Bureau de Change in Asata called “One Year One Block.” That’s a story for another day.

Back to mine.

I was very sure that OC Intelligent wouldn’t beat me with that baton. I was wrong.

Before I knew what was happening, he barked,

“Staffoo! Bia ebe a!” ( Come here!)

He ordered me to sit like the two guys he had just finished beating. I hesitated, pleading with him to pardon me.

Koiii! (Baton sound) - the baton landed on my head.

“Jesus!” I screamed.

“Odika iche na m na egwu egwu?” (You think I’m joking?) he said.

That was when it finally dawned on me I was in serious trouble.

“OC biko! OC biko!” I begged, clutching my head.

Koi! Koi! - on my knees.

“OC bikonu oo!”

Holding my knees..

Koi! Koi! -on my ankles.

“OC bikozianu o!”

Protecting my ankles..

Koi! Koi! - on my shoulders.

It felt like a twisted game of tumbo-tumbo, like chess game.

By then, I was sweating like a Christmas goat.

I finally understood why they called the beating “tea oku” - hot tea.

OC kept going. I’m sure people outside the bus park could hear my screams. I cried like a baby. He showed no sympathy. Instead, he reminded me how I had pretended not to hear him when he first called me. I immediately admitted I had heard him.

At some point, he slowed and asked what I was doing behind the phone that day.

I told him I had used a nylon bag to produce the sound.

“Oh, so you’re experienced in this business?” he said - and resumed.

I knew I had to act fast or this wouldn’t end.

So I screamed at the top of my lungs,
“Eeeewwooooo!”
I made the “Eeeeww” high-pitched and the “oooo” low and fading , like I was losing strength and about to die.

Then I slumped, hitting my left shoulder on the floor, barely moving.

He struck me two or three more times, but when I didn’t react the way I had been, he stopped.

I think he got worried.

He dropped the baton, lit a cigarette, and started puffing. We were both drenched in sweat. I was crying uncontrollably; he was panting like someone who had just gone three intense rounds on top of a woman.

At that moment, I promised myself I would get revenge. He couldn’t just do this and walk away free.

He called the girl’s father (a retired Army officer) and informed him that the fridge had been recovered. He asked if I should waybill it to Aba, but thankfully the man said no. They had slept in the village due to time constraints and would be coming to Awka to pick it up themselves.

Hours later, OC asked me to go and bring the fridge. But I genuinely couldn’t stand . I wasn’t acting anymore. My joints were numb. My entire body was sore. No one deserves that kind of treatment. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The security men begged me to move, but I couldn’t walk.

It was during degree exams, and most of the cult guys had traveled to avoid being used to start war.

None of my friends were in Awka. My girlfriend, who was an indigene, was the only person I could call. She lived with her strict parents, so she had to use evening Mass as an excuse to come see me.

When she arrived around 5 or 6 pm. and saw my condition, she burst into tears.

I couldn’t even walk to the bus stand gate.

She had to bring an okada inside to pick me up. She took me straight to a chemist for painkillers. I knew the chemist personally, and there was no way I could tell him what happened and i couldn't say cultists had beaten me that would make me look weak.

He saw me as a hard guy.

But in reality? I wasn’t. (Na pasmaga).

So I told him military men had beaten me for wearing camouflage. That sounded better.
He sympathized and gave me analgesia.

During that period, my girlfriend did everything for me, bathing me, bringing food, taking care of me.

To this day, my knees and ankles still act up. I play football regularly and have had multiple injuries. I've had three knee surgeries (two ACL reconstructions and a meniscus repair).

Those were football-related, not from the beating but sometimes I still wonder😂.

When my friends returned and I told them what happened, my guy Oma ,( you guys remember him right? "Nwa Akpa") was furious.

He had also suffered at the hands of OC Intelligent and harbored deep resentment toward him. He promised to “deal with him.”
I didn’t even want to know what that meant. I begged him to let it go.

After that incident, whenever OC saw me, he was overly friendly and patronizing. Strangely enough, during my clearance, he even helped me. We never had another clash.

So there you have it.

I didn’t steal the fridge.

I only moved it from an area of higher concentration to an area of lower concentration through space.

Ekenekwamu unu..

My name is Chibuike ( Staffoo)
Nurse Eliza but not a quack Nurse

26/02/2026

PART 2 OF THE FRIDGE INCIDENT.

After Sule from Anti-Cult reassured me that he would help sort things out, I gathered some courage and headed to Lan Hostel.
But before I left, I made one important call. Guess who I called? You already know - Nti. I won’t disclose the details of that conversation for confidentiality reasons.
Now, this is why I say Sule was cunning, very snake-like.

When I got to Lan Hostel, I explained everything to him exactly as it happened. I didn’t lie. He listened calmly and said it was fine, that he would handle it. He called OC Intelligent and said we should all go to the security department at the bus stand to resolve the issue.

As we were leaving, three others joined us, my guy IK, 50 Cent, and another Anti-Cult member whose name I can’t remember.
But immediately we stepped out of the hostel, Sule stopped and said I should buy food for all of them before we proceeded.

Did I have a choice?

Sule ate one and a half plates.
50 Cent finished two full plates.
IK ate one and a half.
The other guy ate one plate.
All of them drank one- one bor.

I had no appetite. I couldn’t eat.
If you know Sule well, you’d recognise when he’s satisfied. He would always put a wooden toothpick in his mouth and start picking his teeth casually.

That evening, he was standing there picking his teeth nonchalantly, as if my life wasn’t hanging in the balance. It reminded me of those pictures of Late President Buhari relaxed in his lounge, completely unbothered and pickinghis teeth.

We began walking from Lan Hostel to the Temporary Site bus stand.

My heart was pounding. I had never been in serious trouble before. I didn’t know what to expect. What if this escalated and I got expelled? What would I tell my parents?

On the way, Sule suddenly asked in his Hausa accent,

“Staffoo, I hope say you no be cult guy?”

My heart skipped.

I wasn’t a cult member. But I had marks on my body, some I still carry till today, mostly from my father’s koboko beatings and from fights while growing up. How would I convince Anti-Cult that those scars weren’t from initiation?

I answered “No” firmly.

By the time we approached the bus stand, it was almost 7 p.m. Darkness was setting in.

Sule received a phone call and told me to go inside the security office. He said he would stay with me until OC Intelligent arrived so we could settle everything peacefully.

As soon as I entered and they locked the security office…Sule awaa ( he disappeared).

He said he was going to buy something and would be back shortly. I never saw him again that night.

If I had known that was his plan, I would have answered Chioma Ajunwa 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ and waited for Nti to return in a week to es**rt me properly.

Inside the security office, an elderly security man booked me and ordered me to sit on the floor. They took my trousers and left me in only my shorts.

Two other guys were already there. They had apparently been detained for days. I kept expecting Sule to return.

The two guys told me to relax that I would spend the night with them and that we would all receive “tea oku” (hot tea) in the morning.

I asked, “They serve tea here?”

They nodded with strange smiles.

That night, the security man left his walkie-talkie tuned to Oge Ndi Igbo on Radio Nigeria. It was my first time ever sleeping in such an environment. I had never even properly entered a police station before, let alone a cell.

I couldn’t sleep.

Mosquitoes feasted on me like pepper soup.
Around 5 or 6 am all departments an offices were coming collect their keys to open up i bend my head like i was praying to avoid people recognising me. I forgot to mention thay whilst i was sat on the floor last night, my lecturer, late prof Anigbogu (RIP) came. To drop our departmental keys with the security. I was glad he didn’t see me. Not too long, OC Intelligent arrived. Immediately, the two guys started begging:

“OC, bikonu oo… OC, bikonu oo…”

I was confused. Why were they begging?

OC shouted, STAFFOO!!!!!, you're a criminal!!!.

He reminded me how I was pretending not to hear him over the phone. " Me"?, he said.. in a harsh tune.

The papa (security man) made him a cup of tea or coffee to drink and he said calmly,

“Time for tea oku.”

So I concluded in my head they were serving hot tea in the morning afterall, I relaxed waiting for my own tea.

He collected a baton from the security man and ordered one of the guys to sit properly on the floor. Baton reminds me of my mother's mortar ( aka odo).

The guy sat with his legs bent toward his body, holding his shins.

What I witnessed next was unimaginable.

OC Intelligent began beating the young man mercilessly with the baton, targeting his ankles, knee and shin bone. The guy was sweating profusely in agony.

How can someone be beating students with aka odo? I kept questioning myself?

I told myself, “These ones must be hardened criminals. There’s no way he would use that baton on me. No way.”

Later, I realised I was very wrong.

Make i rest abeg. I'm working tonight.

26/02/2026

Nigerians and gossip, eh? Una like amebo😂 Chei!

So it’s 4:00 a.m. on the 26th of February, 2026. I’m supposed to be on my one-hour break, but because of the pressure from you people, I had to bring the gist.

I’ve seen many comments assuming I stole the fridge. Hahaha. Do I look like a thief? Do you people realise I’m the son of a deacon and deaconess?

On a serious note, I don’t steal. In fact, I can remember only three times in my life when I tried taking something without paying - and I was caught every single time.

Number 1: At New Nigerian Shop on Moore House Street, Enugu. The shop belonged to my uncle, Elder Obeke (may his soul continue to rest in peace). A shop attendant caught me and asked me to kneel down.

Coincidentally, my uncle walked in and asked what happened. After hearing the story, he counselled me and told them to let me go.

Number 2: My friend Arinze “Artcha” (Artcha was popular photographer on Moore House Street back in the day) and I stole maize from a farm that belongs to Carter Street Primary School. Unfortunately, the famous printer opposite Carter Street caught us. I’ll never forget that day. I stole two 🌽, Arinze stole three. The man p*eled the maize on our heads while hitting us with it. To make matters worse, when I got home, my mother refused to let me roast or cook the maize after she found out it was stolen. She sent me back to return it to the farm. On my way, I saw Arinze happily enjoying his own share.

Number 3: At Lee Garden Supermarket on Igbariam Street, Achara Layout. I’ll gist that one another day , there are lessons the new generation needs to learn from it.

Now, back to the fridge story and my problem with OC Intelligent.

It was during final exams. If you attended university in Nigeria, you’d know that decree exam periods were always tense, especially because cult groups often clashed during that time. It was like a “judgement period.” People would be held accountable for things they’d done since year one. There's instances student being kpai inside exam hall, some students/ cultist would even travel home during that period to avoid trouble.
One of my friends persuaded me to travel briefly since exams were over and campus was almost empty.

At the time, I was staying at Promise Land Hostel at the temporary site, near Ginger Hostel which was notorious back then. Ginger Hostel had a reputation for housing very tough guys.
When I returned from my short trip, I noticed that the final-year student next door had packed out but left her fridge behind. Her door was open.
I started thinking: Did she forget it? Was she coming back? Why was her door unlocked?

Deep down, I knew she would probably return for it. But I convinced myself otherwise. I carried the fridge into my room and left, as I was leaving, i saw a barrow pusher outside so I decided to move it again, this time to a friend’s place, just to remove any trace. As I was lockingmy door, (IJ) saw me. She didn’t see the fridge, but my presence alone could raise suspicion.
I considered returning the fridge, but I told myself the owner had already graduated and moved most of her things. I assumed she wouldn’t have time looking for it or making a Case.

So I moved the fridge to LAN hostel and went to stay with a friend Acid.
What I didn’t know was that the owner had returned with her father, a retired military officer. Because their car couldn’t carry everything, they had left the fridge temporarily with plans to come back for it.
Upon their retun, the fridge is in mississipi( Missingin Action).

At that point, things escalated.

IJ was one of the few people still around in the hostel, so naturally, she was questioned. She denied knowing anything about it but foolishly said she saw Staffoo today( IJ who asked you, ile kerosene). . Soon, I started receiving calls. I denied knowing anything about the fridge.

Then an elderly man called. He said he was the girl’s father and asked me to return the fridge because they needed to travel back to Aba that evening. It was around 3 p.m. I pretended there was bad network, stuffing nylon near the phone’s mouthpiece and saying “Hello? Hello?” , a trick my friend Ali taught me.

Later, another call came. " Staffoo, anam enye gi 10 min ka ibia buye this old man fridge ha, ha na ana Aba this night" It was OC Intelligent. He gave me 10 minutes to produce the fridge. I tried the same network trick again, but he saw through it and started raining insults on me." Staffoo ara agba gbuogi there, ma isi na idi anu onu m" (.Staffoo thunder fire you if you pretend not to hear me),

The matter had been reported to the anti-cult group.

My heart sank.

By evening, my phone was ringing non-stop. People kept telling me the anti-cult guys were looking for me. Then my close friend IK called. He lived with some of them (Sule and 50 Cent) so he had reliable information.
Whilst on the phone with him, I was hearing Sule in the background, so I asked him pass the phone to him.
He passed the phone to Sule, who told me plainly: if I still wanted to remain a student at UNIZIK, I should produce that fridge immediately. He also mentioned that the girl’s father, being a retired military officer, had threatened to return with military personnel. He promised to help calm the situation down.

That was when fear truly gripped me.

What would I tell my father if I got expelled from university?

Apologies my break has finished. Will continue after work. Ndo🫶🏿

25/02/2026

I’ve been reading the comments on my last post, and it seems many people think I actually stole the fridge.

Don’t worry, I’ll share the full fridge story before I continue.

Stay tuned.

25/02/2026

PART 5: How a Case of Mistaken Identity Almost Cost Me My Life in a Cult Fight.

Before I dive into Part 5, let me take a moment to appreciate all my new followers and everyone sharing my posts.

I gained 5,000+ followers in just 24 hours.

Thank you so much!

Keep sharing and following!!.

I’ve seen people complimenting my writing skills, and honestly, I didn’t even know I could write this well. I’m surprised myself. Writing wasn’t something I particularly enjoyed at first, but since I became a nurse seven years ago, I haven’t really had a choice.

In nursing, there’s a saying: “If it’s not written, it’s not done.” That means even if you feed your patient, administer medications, and provide personal care, if you fail to document it properly, it technically never happened. So your nursing notes must always be clear, detailed, and accurate.

I guess that discipline sharpened my writing without me even realising it.

Now, let’s get into it.

Yes, the newly elected SUG executives launched a manhunt for me. Remember, my friend Mbamalu Chukwunonso had already grassed me up. At the time, I had no idea what was going on. I would attend lectures and notice unfamiliar faces walking into our classroom and then leaving shortly after. I recognised some of them as people connected to SUG.

Apparently, their plan was to embarrass and disgrace me publicly in front of my classmates.
I was studying Computer Science, and our class was predominantly female, about 70% women. We arguably had some of the most beautiful ladies in UNIZIK, aside from the Law department( Ndi umu mmiri). So you can imagine why disgracing me there would have been the perfect way to crush my ego and probably pull some fine babes in my class.
And honestly, it would have been a huge humiliation.

When I got wind of their plans, I started skipping classes. Behind the scenes, Apga was trying to calm things down. But I won’t lie I was scared. A reliable source told me the SUG President was extremely angry and determined to deal with me.

I began making frantic calls. The first person I called was my guy, Nti ( you guys remember him right?, the Vikings Executioner). I believed he was the only one who could get me out of that mess. Unfortunately, his phone wasn’t reachable. I called all day with no response.
I started having this overwhelming sense of impending doom , like someone about to suffer a heart attack. These guys could spot me anywhere on campus and publicly disgrace me.
One evening, while returning from the permanent site, I saw SUG members and some anti-cult guys drinking at the bus station. My heart nearly stopped. I knew that if they saw me, it might be my judgement day.
I was with some girls from my department, and we were heading to the World Trade Center (WTC) to print our coursework. Suddenly, I changed my mind. I told them I needed to study and diverted to the old Theatre Arts department building at the bus stand. I stayed there until I was sure they had all left.
While hiding there, I kept calling Nti, still nothing.

Another person I could have called was OC Intelligent. We used to be close, but that relationship ended badly after I took someone’s fridge and she reported me to him. He dealt with me severely over it. He gave me the beating of my life, he damaged all my joint with a batton. Somethingof which I'm suffering till date. Since then, things were never the same between us.

I also contacted "Sule" anti cult guy to help “water the ground” for me ,to calm things down, but deep down.

I wasn’t convinced Sule could really handle it. I found him too cunning , the kind of person with a snake-like attitude. "Sule" was a Nigerian Army officer, an hausa guy that blended really well with the Igbos, very gentle looking guy but really dangerous. I knew him through my best friend Ike Odezugo.

The tension kept building, and my friend Apga advised me to go and meet the SUG President myself instead of waiting for them to catch me off guard.

But the real problem wasn’t the SUG President. It was his “oh yes” boys , the loyalists desperate to impress him and prove themselves. They were the ones eager to make an example out of me.

Back then, the SUG executives gathered every evening at the temporary site bus stand. That place was probably the busiest and most popular spot in UNIZIK at the time. It was where students boarded buses to the permanent site and where buses dropped off students returning to the temporary site. If you were looking for anyone on campus, that was the best place to find them. It was also a hotspot for student who hung around harassing female students (Ndi abani agba aka)

Apga suggested we meet them during lecture hours. Although our department had moved to the permanent site, we still held some classes at the temporary site.

I remember that day vividly, We were in the middle of Professor Anigbogu’s lecture (may his soul rest in peace). He was a guy man, you only failed his course if you wanted to fail ( If you don't get it, forgerrit!!).

In the middle of the lecture, Apga told me the SUG guys would soon be arriving at the bus stand and that we should go and meet them. He promised to stand by me and help calm the situation.

But I knew my friend well. He was the type who overestimated his influence. He would claim he had a direct link to the Vice Chancellor, when in reality, he probably just knew someone who knew someone who knew the VC’s driver. That was Apga for you.
I immediately knew his presence wouldn’t stop those hungry-looking boys surrounding the SUG President from descending on me.

The only person who could have truly saved me in that situation was my guy, Nti.
I told Apga I wasn’t going to meet them during lectures. I didn’t want to be dragged or humiliated at the bus stand in broad daylight, especially in front of my departmental girls. If anything was going to happen, I would rather they rough me up near a in door than lay me flat at the crowded bus station for everyone to see.

But the problem was that Apga had already told the SUG President that we were waiting for him. God! Apga want to kpai me!!.

He said this would be my final chance and that I shouldn’t waste the opportunity.

Apparently, the SUG President had initially declined the meeting , meaning they actually preferred to catch me unexpectedly.

Still, I refused to meet them during class hours. So before the SUG bus could arrive, I left Apga and answer Chioma Ajunwa🏃🏿🏃🏿🏃🏿.

Make I shower and prepare for training. I get class today. I dey come.

My name is Chibuike ( Staffoo)
Nurse Eliza but not a quack Nurse

24/02/2026

PART 4: How a Case of Mistaken Identity Almost Cost Me My Life in a Cult Fight.

Let’s continue…

I’m sorry I couldn’t continue yesterday. I was completely exhausted after a very busy 12-hour shift. I had two critically ill patients. One of them had just returned from Nigeria. He travelled there the previous week, and immediately after arriving back, he became seriously ill. He was treated initially in Nigeria but wasn’t responding. By the time he was brought to us, he was bedridden and doubly incontinent (he p*e and wee on himself). His condition was terrible. MRI, CT scan, and X-rays showed nothing abnormal. It was baffling.

Part of me even felt like telling the family to take him back to Nigeria for local treatment (even though I don’t believe in juju). But of course, because of my profession, I couldn’t say such a thing without getting into serious trouble.

So yes, I was very busy trying to stabilise him.

Now, back to our story - we’ve drifted a bit.

Back at UNIZIK, people began to believe I was Nti’s (remember, that’s a pseudonym) brother. Suddenly, I became untouchable.

That year, there was an SUG election. I wasn’t interested in university politics, but my friend Mbamalu Chukwunonso (Apga) kept trying to convince me to support Ifeanyi Michael Egwunyenga for SUG President. He had introduced me to Ifeanyi before, a calm, serious-looking, intelligent guy who wore white glasses like an old professor.

I told Apga I would support his candidate, but honestly, I didn’t think Ifeanyi had the charisma to lead. To me, he seemed like a puppet. I wanted an SUG President like Ikoro Emenike Ikoro, in my opinion, the greatest SUG President UNIZIK ever produced. He was intelligent but rugged and fearless.
During the famous UNIZIK riot, though I was still a fresher then. I marched in the front row with Ikoro, from the permanent site to Aroma Junction, where we confronted the then Governor, Chris Ngige. Ikoro was fearless, challenging every police and army checkpoint. He wore shorts, was topless, and tied his shirt around his head. Nigeria needs people like him today. He single-handedly confronted our then Vice Chancellor, Ilochi Okafor, which eventually led to his suspension.
I sha don’t know the full details of that story, so let me pause there.

I’m just trying to summarise the kind of life I lived as a student, so you can form your own judgement and make an informed decision of why anyone would ever attempted to kpai me.

A few weeks after the SUG election, Ifeanyi Egwunyenga won and formed his cabinet. My friend Apga became a member of Director of Transport (DOT). In my opinion, that was the most powerful office in SUG and I’ll explain why.
The day they formed the government at Igwebuike Grammar School, I couldn’t attend because my girlfriend was with me. Apga’s name was included in the cabinet list.

The reason I say DOT was the most important office was because of the influence and benefits attached to it: access to transport funds, free rides between the permanent site and temporary site, sitting in the front seat with your girl, and not joining the long queues.

At that time, the university was relocating departments from the temporary site to the permanent site, and during rush hour, the queue for buses could stretch all the way to the expressway. As a DOT member, you didn’t join the queue. You simply walked past everyone. If someone stopped you, you’d say, “Injury to one,” and they’d reply, “Injury to all.” Or simply, “Injury.”

I wasn’t officially part of them since I missed the inauguration, but trust me, I forced my way in. I would walk past everyone, head to the loading point, and remove whoever was sitting in the front seat (as long as they weren’t SUG officials). It wasn’t easy at first, but soon the drivers, agberos, and DOT officials all recognised me as one of them. Anytime they saw me, they’d shout, “Injury! Injury!” and clear the way.

I could even predict which minibus would load first. I loved the feeling. My girlfriend was still in secondary school then and hoping to gain admission into UNIZIK. Sometimes the queue stretched almost to the VC’s office, but I would just hold her hand and walk majestically past everyone to the front seat. The power felt intoxicating.

Let me quickly conclude this part.
I once had a serious encounter with the SUG President that almost exposed me and shattered my ego.
A few weeks after the election, Apga and I attended an event with the Kegite Club. After the event and probably slightly tipsy (I’m not a heavy drinker; two bottles would get me drunk). It was 12 -1am when I saw a Hiace bus driving recklessly, honking and bullying people off the road.

I got angry and confronted the bus. I grabbed some empty beer bottles and hurled them at it. In the quiet of the night, all you could hear were bottles shattering. "Taaa, Taa, Tooh, Tooh!!!, The bus reversed and sped off.

What I didn’t know was that it was the official SUG bus, carrying the newly elected SUG President, Ifeanyi Egwunyenga, and his executives. Wow!! Kampala don burst!!.

That’s when trouble started.
They thought cultists had attacked them and began searching for who was responsible.(Like who had the gut to attack SUG president).

Unfortunately, my friend Apga foolishly admitted that I was the one who did it.

They mounted a manhunt for STAFFOO.🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

The story is even getting interesting. I dey come make i do my mandatory training first. My matron is on my case🤣🤣.

My name is Chibuike ( Staffoo)
Nurse Eliza but not a quack Nurse

23/02/2026

PART 3: How a Case of Mistaken Identity Almost Cost Me My Life in a Cult Fight.

Like I was saying, I couldn’t understand why any reasonable person would conclude that I was a cultist.

But honestly… why wouldn’t they?

When criminals living around our lodge would come to our room (mine and Ali’s) to seek permission before robbing our own hostel, what were people supposed to think?

After the gun drama with my former landlord, I moved out. I relocated to Emirate Hostel in Okpuno, close to INEC, somewhere behind Nodu or Okpuno Primary School - I can’t remember exactly. It was a 39-room lodge, and we stayed in Room 38.
Ali and I paid for that room.
But it stopped being “our” room very quickly.
Room 38 became a refugee camp.
If you were stranded - come. If you were homeless- come. If you were tired of your own hostel - come.
At some point, seven or eight of us were sleeping inside that single room. It was loud, chaotic, and fun nonstop.

Most of the guys in the hostel were Vikings. (Till today I don’t know why I kept attracting “ndi baga.”)

Room 38 became like a shrine. Because people were always in and out, we left the door open almost 24/7. And nobody born of a woman dared enter to steal. We had expensive things like TV, generator, computer, inverter but nobody touched anything.

By this time, I was practically family with the Vikings. They were free around me and Ali. They discussed their secrets openly in our presence because they trusted us.

One evening, Kaycee Chime ( Ali) and I were in the room when three of them walked in.
They came with three unfamiliar men. The kind of faces that looked like they had been condemned already by life. My heart dropped instantly , but I couldn’t show fear.

“What’s up?” I asked.
They said they wanted to talk.
"Wetin happen"? I said.
Then they said: They planned to rob the hostel that night and they had come to inform us.

I was stunned.

Has it gotten to this level? Are we now this influential?

I told them flatly, “You can’t rob my hostel. Go to the next one.”
We argued back and forth. I knew we could attempt to stop them, but that would create permanent enmity. Eventually, we backed down.
But we laid down one condition: no physical or sexual assault. The hostel was about 60% female. We made it clear we did not support what they were doing and that they should act as if they never told us.

That night, Ali and I sat inside our room and watched them rob the hostel.

That was the kind of strange position I constantly found myself in close enough to danger, but not officially part of it.

Two other incidents stood out in my memory.
One day, we were watching Nigeria play at a viewing center near Odogwu Awka. I had just returned from Enugu (042) with plenty of money. I tapped some from my dad’s shop, so I was buying drinks for everyone. And of course, “everyone” meant cultists.

Midway through the match, an argument broke out.
Within seconds, chaos.
Everyone ran.

I was the only neutral guy trying to hold the “bad guys” back and calm things down.
A few days later, I went to visit my friend Cylop*e in Odogwu Awka. As I entered the compound, I saw my friend Oma. We greeted casually. I went upstairs.
Minutes later -
GBOOWA! GBOOWA!!
Then a voice followed:
“Aye! Axe men!!!, any Aye Axe men? how your face!”
Then more gunshots - gboowa! gboowa!!
He was shooting under the staircase. The echo was deafening.

After that incident, whenever I visited Odogwu Awka, people looked at me suspiciously.

Later, I learned that Odogwu Awka was predominantly Black Axe territory, with only a few Vikings. It was a constant tug of war over dominance. " Chibuike onwee nke nma!!".

The truth is, I had no real reason to join any cult. I already had their backing and protection. Yet something inside me still wanted identification. I wanted to belong officially. I wanted to handcuff or knack egede ( Though I had no interest in Aye). But I would jokingly handcuff my Vikings friends and knack egede with my Black Axe friend.( This is cult greetings). I was that naïve.

I then jokingly told Oma that I would join after the holidays. The incident that costed me dearly(That story is for another day.)

When I say I had their backing, I mean serious backing and protection.

There was a guy let me call him “Nti” (pseudonym). 042 guy. We met in Special Science School, Ihe. We spent three years together there. His parents were a deacon and deaconess, just like mine.
In SSS Ihe, we would go around hostels sharing the gospel.
Yes , I was preaching.

Meanwhile, Nti was the number one Viking in UNIZIK , they called them “Executioner,” I think- not entirely sure. He was feared across all cult groups. At the mention of his name, people trembles.

But to me, he was my brother.
In school, cultists would be shocked at how casually I interacted with him , sometimes even playfully, almost disrespectfully. They thought it was bullying. But he never allowed anything happen to me.

He made it clear to everyone that I'm his brother..

From then on, people stopped seeing just Chibuike.
They started calling me “Nwanne Nti.”
And that name alone was enough to either protect me or mark me as a cultis.

To be continued later, biko I'm tired. Make i go home.

My name is Chibuike ( Staffoo)
Nurse Eliza but not a quack Nurse.

Nurse Eliza

27/02/2026

27/02/2026

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