When I first met Alhaji in Brixton in 1989, awon boys used to hail him as "Alhaji Tony!"
I noticed that he will always squirm in embarrassment.
I knew something ain't right, but he was older than me, so I noh dey hail am like so; I jus call him Alhaji.
Then one day, I asked my friend, Power, why dem dey hail am "Alhaji Tony!" and he gave me the whole gist.
...... In
the Late '80's, Alhaji was a renowned and big-time credit card fraudster.
His own specialty was receiving stolen credit cards and selling them on to ready buyers, who will now go and spend the cards in shops on goods and services.
Back in those days, it was so easy to spend stolen "ike" so the buyer of the stolen card will just go on a crazy shopping spree for thousands of pounds, before kasala will now burst and the card will either be declined or seized.
Before his upgrade into the more rewarding crime of selling stolen credit cards, Alhaji was a small time ganja seller.
Now, the simple crime set up in Brixton, London back then was this:
Nigerians were into credit card fraud, whilst the Jamaicans were into stealing and selling weed.
No story.
The whole mago mago of credit card fraud seemed too intricate for the Jamaicans then, but my sha pro! pro! brothers and sometimes sisters, fresh off the Nigerian Airways plane from Lagos, Benin and Port Harcourt, blended in to the plastic trade like bread and butter.
Na simple brain work, and my people noh dey carry last.
Anyways, Alhaji was not that brain-sharp, so he wisely settled for the easier buy and sell 'draw'.
However, in the course of his grass entrepreneurial ventures, he always came into contact with the Jamaicans whose other specialties were burglary, stealing, robbery and sometimes, even murder!
Yes, murder o.
The Jamaicans, or Yardies, were really bad 'uns in those days.
And they used to be Alhaji's customers, buying weed from him and also passing on stolen goods, including credit cards stolen from their victims, for a likkle fee.
Alhaji will now sell the stolen cards to his Nigerian friends, who will now wreck the cards in shops to buy expensive goods.
Apparently, Alhaji did not like the fact that he will sell a stolen credit for £30 and the buyer will now turn up later to sell him designer clothes of over £500 acquired from spending the same card.
He always felt foolish and cheated.
Then one day, the yèyé man decided to leave his comfort zone of selling kaya and receiving "stolo".
He put one of the stolen cards in his wallet, donned his agbada and hit the shops himself.
"No more nonsense! Ayam going to buy the clothes myself" he threw one side of the agbada over his shoulder. Then the other side; One thousand, five hundred.
The name on the stolen American Express Card® was Tony Brown.
Rule Number one: Don't wear a native 3-piece àgbádá, to go and spend a stolen American Express Card at Selfridges Store® on Oxford street, London.
With the name 'Tony Brown' embossed in gold across the front of the blue plastic.
Most especially, when you have three expressway Oyo tribal mark lines designed on each cheek of your charcoal black face.
Mba, Alhaji, you will stick out like a sour thumb.
Anyways, to cut the long 'tory short, na so dem catch Alhaji with the stolen card for Selfridges, arrested him and took him down to Vine Street Police Station.
......"Is this your Credit Card?" the stern looking Investigating Officer interrogated a confident looking Alhaji Musibau at the Police Station, later.
"Yes sir, itzz my card" Alhaji intoned irritatingly.
"Are you sure?" The officer pressed further.
Alhaji glanced down at his fake Rado® watch, feigning anger.
"Whadoyoumean?? Yesh ayam sure!"
"So what is your full name?" the officer glanced down at the seized stolen card, hiding it from Alhaji Musibau's view.
Alhaji did not hesitate " My full name is Anthony Brown, Tony for short"
He almost sounded like a pompous Fiditi Prince.
The officer's face was blank as he stood up and left the windowless room "Ok sir, I will be back.
......Apart from the offer of tea and a lunch of microwaved chicken tikka, Alhaji was left undisturbed in his lonely cell.
After about 3 hours of stewing in his buba and sokoto (agbada had been removed and retained at the Sergeant's counter earlier, together with the rope of his sokoto)
Alhaji was finally invited back to the interview room.
He shuffled in, holding his dropping trousers with one hand.
All the earlier bravado and confidence had disappeared.
He looked like a Dino that had jus fallen off a moving vehicle.
The tape recorder started rolling :
"For the record, please state your name, sir"
"Ma name is Tony Brown" he hesitated a bit.
"Do you need a lawyer, as is your right?"
"No"
"Speak louder for the tape please"
"No sir, I do not need a lawyer!" Alhaji raised his voice.
A momentary pause.
"So, where is the body? Where did you hide the body?" The officer's voice was calm, but emphatic.
Hehn???????
"Body ké? Which body? Ayam not understand sir" 路♂路♂路♂
Alhaji Musibau started to sweat profusely. He suddenly felt like going to the toilet.
The officer starred him directly in the eyes "
"Yes, the body of Tony Brown that you killed!"
"Yeh!!! mogbe o! ♂♂♂ killed ké?? officer I does not kill anybody o!!"
Alhaji jumped up from the table, handcuffs jangling in the humid air.
The two officers forced him back on to the plastic chair.
"Your game is up mister. We have investigated the stolen card seized from you and traced it to one Tony Brown, who has been reported missing by his family since seven days ago"
Alhjaji started reciting fast incantations under his breath, catarrh running down his nose.
The officer continued "An hour ago, officers forced their way into his apartment, where blood was found spilled all over the bedroom and bathroom, but no body was discovered"
"We now have reason to believe that Mr Brown was attacked, abducted and has probably been killed"
The officer looked straight at a visbly trembling 'Haji Musé and declared:
"This is now a Murder investigation and you are the chief suspect.
.......About 10 minutes later, after the ambulance people had managed to revive a passed out Alhaji, with oxygen and compressions after a near heart attack,
he managed to whisper to the officers sitting beside his stretcher in the back of the siren-blowing ambulance, on the way to St Thomas' Hospital, Vauxhall :
"Eskiss Sir, my name is no more Tony Brown.
"Ma real name is Alhaji Musibau Ishola Owonikoko of Oyo State.
"Ayam a thief by profession. I haff been stealing from small pickin. I also sell igbo by trade.
"Please sir! Èjooorrr sir! I haff never killed person in my life before sir!
"Go and check under my bed in Brixton, you wee find stolen credit cards plenty. I am a fraudster. Babanla olė ni mí!"
"In the roof you will find bags of weed, smuggled in Amsterdam.
"Yes, I am a drug dealer sir"
È śe mi jéjé, ayam a common thief!
"Murder ké??? modaran ni London oooooo! ♂♂♂
Alhaji 'Tony' started to sob again......
TO BE CONTINUED On 27th August at "An Evening With Mazi and Friends in London®
Have a smooth week ahead..
Have a smooth week ahead..
Where's the conclusion please?
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