CHRONICLES OF THE SHENANIGANGS 1: IN THE BEGINNING...

The tap was left running endlessly, sloshing clear water against the oil-stained ceramic sink,raw veggies lay stone cold on the wooden chopping board, the blender itself was bloodstained!, oops, did I say blood?, just kidding, it's just pepper, the huge gas cooker was firing against a pot similar to the one we at the UFC use for our midday meal only smaller....ermmm...Marvin called it a .......cassero.....casserole.

In the perfectly ventilated ceiling, I was observing these weird features about this expensive kitchen through the square vent and honestly, I was beginning to have a re-think on following Anthony's plan to pick food from Mr Collins;the angriest, most annoying, fierce-looking and of course richest bachelor in the estate. Sometimes, we've seen some men in red uniform drive annoyingly into his mansion........Anthony said they were EFCC officers that had brought a search warrant to look for something they obviously haven't found since they keep coming again and again. During their last visit, a clash ensued between the strong-willed officers and hot-headed Mr Collins and I heard the leader cuss and swear to discover whatever Mr Collins was hiding in the four walls of his duplex, there was more to this man and his mansion that meets the eye. The plan was pretty simple, of course to those not trapped in an annoying man's ceiling obviously not to fix his air vents or conduit wiring but to help him with emptying his freezer! Anthony, the mastermind con man, monitored Mr Collins for some months since we were fortunately neighbours, observed the timing of every single activity in that mansion from dawn to dusk, he sometimes spent his night around the corners of Mr Collins' gargatuan fence avoiding the hostile-looking guardsmen or on the makeshift bamboo bed on the orphanage home decking monitoring this filthy rich man, penning down every piece of info in his black leatherette diary...no he called it his chronicle!, only God had made him not to be pierced by one of the security men man-killing bullets. Being the leader of the op and the most informed, he drew out the fool proof plan for this food heist two days ago: infiltrate code named Mr Frowny's mansion, get to his stocked up kitchen through the nexus air vents of the mansion and successfully empty out his ever-growing trash into a slightly large sack and zoom! ,and when I mean thrash, I mean good food!, ironic I guess. His dangerous-looking canine had been subdued as Mary and I sneaked out of our haven every night since the day before yesterday hurling cookies coated with sleeping drugs over the fence as we prentended to walk past his 12-foot concrete structure talking loudly to prevent suspicion from the two mildly armoured security men taking turns to move around the fence. Fortunately for all of us at UFC, the first phase of the plan worked; we couldn't hear Bingo's loud barkings the next morning, he must have eaten the drugged cookies and crashed out and since Mr Collins wasn't the meticulous type, he ignorantly overlooked this anomaly and the vet doctor's number wasn't the one he was dialling next, it was Eat Ups'; a famous catering and delivery company, that's what Anthony deduced of course from his genius mind and wild scribblings on his notorious chronicle. The second phase of the plan was much harder than the first; breaking and entering without being noticed by the security or by him and trust me, you don't want to be seen dead by him or his security in that situation. So we decided I would use Dan's skateboard to slide underneath his SUV as he drove in and as soon as the coast was clear, I would find my way into the square tunnel near the garage......I think Anthony called it air vents, though they had ladder steps in them lined upwards and were strangely large enough to fit a person, while Dorcas distracted Mr Collins and the security with her blabbering mouth and annoying curiosity since she was peculiarly good at it, Anthony was to take out the four security cameras using a rubber catapult purchased for the op as he was strangely perfect at target practices while the rest at the UFC were to cover for we that went for the operation. The plan was already in motion and everyone had done their part, it was left to me to finish things up!.

I am Nisi, an unlucky though grateful occupant of the United For Christ Orphanage and my story still remains a mystery to myself and the UFC. Mrs Elizabeth, the dark-skinned hot-headed head matron cooked up a shabby tale I still struggle to believe that I was dropped right at the entrance of the UFC with 'Nisi' inscribed on my right palm. Well......, as a young kid that time,life at UFC started out as a safe haven protecting us from pain, malnourishement and abandonment. It was like an expensive boarding facility: we ate like slaves who were expected to impress their new lords with bulging stomachs the next day; let's say about one....two.....three..... four times daily, we travelled to lots of places most times interstate and experimented on new hotels and of course new delicacies.....well, everyone at the UFC seemed to love food. We thought that was the true definition of life until tragedy struck three years ago;the coronavirus pandemic hit the globe and affected everyone, most especially the dependent population in developing countries like mine; Nigeria. Our generous sponsors and cheerful givers suddenly became misers, it seemed even the government had forgotten about us, our daily ration began to dwindle both in quantity and quality not to even mention the excursions that became what was only to be dreamt about!. A week ago, everyone at the UFC except the under tens had embarked on an impromptu morning fast to minimise our consumption rate and conserve our supplies consequently expanding our survivability to three days, which meant that in three days, we will be completely out of what to eat!. The matrons tried to smile off the stress of their anxious face to put us at ease but you can't easily put a bunch of smart sixteen year olds that can smell extreme hunger from a 'distance' of three days at ease that easily!, we've sent out tear- stained letters to the owners of fancy duplexes in the estate requesting for something,anything at all, but we received nothing, not even a consolatary feedback!. We needed nothing less than a sudden miracle!. Then, two days ago, I think we got our miracle, Anthony gave a moving speech to his circle on how we had to take action and not wait for any sudden miracle siting the famous 'heaven helps those who help themselves'charge, then he presented to us his plan...... the plan of salvation!, but then yesterday, as we were preparing for the heist, testing our shadow skills, checking out the what ifs, mapping out escape routes and squeezing out a plan B, we noticed Dan wasn't feeling too well and not a capsule of pain reliever resided in the first aid kit, so we had to pause the main event, go rogue and break the rules just to save one of our own!,UFC spirit!

The only pharmacy and supermarket store in the estate was a stone throw from the UFC and Anthony of course decided we do a little shop-lifting....just a little one I said. He and I were the only one to do that op. When it was around 8pm in the night, we would wear our 'heist kit',take my bike and Dan's skateboard and stroll down to the store. The plan wasn't a hard one; I would sneak into the generator house of the supermarket and kill the power of the store right after Anthony enters the store, picks the medicine for Dan and signals me using our walkie-talkies, then he would walk out calmly while others are still groping in the darkness and we would meet at the junction leading to the UFC using our wheels. Simple!. We called the op Blackout!

"You ready huh?, you look pretty rough yourself" Anthony commented, putting on his black beanie. It was 7:45pm........, time lift a super store!

"Ermm..., I don't think we have a choice here bro.....rough?, nah, its just.....its just that I haven't just done this before, that's what ", I managed to voice out while struggling to put on my black jacket, everything was really hard to do these days with limited energy.

"Roll out!" He screamed excitedly as we rode out of the UFC.........next stop, the supermarket!

Things had already started to go our way when we arrived at the supermarket; the sky was already pitch black and the electricity distribution company had unknowingly decided to aid our op, making us look like shadows in the gross darkness. Only the streetlights and the light emitted from the white generator-powered bulbs of the supermarket made the estate seem alive. We had to avoid them;stealth was the focus. We stopped under an unoccupied shed near the gate of the supermarket to do some little planning.

"To get to the generator house, pass through the side of the building to get to the back using the fleet of vehicles parked in the compound to shield you from plain sight, then move straight on and turn left, you would see a metal door with a tampered lock, don't ask how it got tampered, a little wriggle and push should do. Enter the alley stealthly and find your way straight ahead till you hear the semi -silent vibration of the generator caged in an unlocked metal frame, don't bother looking for the light switch, 'cos one single switch puts on like...... four to five light bulbs, some which are outside right over where the security are posted, aside that, they've got a bunch of surveillance system, CCTVs and motion sensors placed in wild unthinkable locations of which unfortunately, I don't know about.....crazy security measures they've got there, I wonder what's special about the stor......just stay hidden using the darkness as cover.... and attracting security?, I'm sure you don't want that!" Anthony described, explaining every detail like he was the architect of the store, I began to wonder if he had been here before for the same reason we are here today.

"Wait......hold on, jeez, you never told me I had to do deal with security!" The thought of them sickened me, courtesy of Mr Collins' men.

"So you expect this store as posh and stocked as it look to be unguarded, free for all. Really?, but chill, sure they haven't got guns or knives, just some piece of turning stick-looking wood they call baton and by the way, I can sense it from your confused expressions screaming how on earth do this guy know all this he's saying, let's just say I have my ways of knowing things! "

That seemed to ease me off just a little. At least!

"Why am I the one doing the hard tasks and yours is just to slip in, pick the drug and disappear?"

"Do we really have to go over this again?, well, firstly, I'm the mastermind genius behind the plan papito and besides, slipping in and out isn't easy as you made it sound. What if the plan gets busted and they switch to an alternative light source as soon as you kill the power whereas I'm still stuck in the store behaving suspicious while you've gotten to the safe zone.......? What if? Think bro!" He patted me on my shoulder.

I seemed to understand his made- up theory and paranoia. He was trying to play safe, keeping both of us out of harm's way. I liked that.

"When you get to the generator house,find the power switch, it's at the back of the generator, switch it off when I tell you over the walkie-talkie to do so and then what do you do?..... you wait. Easy-peasy. Then when you hear my voice over the talkie again, start moving and meet me in the safe zone. All things being equal, without any complications, we should be over with the op in ten minutes, then we get some food and sleep for tomorrow; the D-day. Yeah?"

"Sure Tony" I responded weakly with cold feet and shaky limbs.

We rose to move, facing the direction we are headed to differently.

"And Nisi,...... in everything you do, don't get caught!"

"I won't Tony, I promise!"