Episode 11 – The Hunt for Kunle

The block was restless. News of Kunle’s betrayal spread faster than fire in harmattan. Boys cursed his name, swore they’d cut him to pieces if they ever saw him again. But for Jay, it wasn’t so simple. This was Kunle — his brother, his shadow since childhood. Now the same streets that raised them demanded blood.

Boss T sat in his leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his face like a crown of fire. His eyes burned into Jay.

“You know am best. Bring am back. Dead or alive. Fail me, and you join am.”

The order weighed heavier than a coffin. Jay nodded, but his chest tightened. Betray Boss T, and he was finished. Betray Kunle, and he’d lose the last piece of his soul.

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Jay started the search in the places only real street boys knew: the dirty lodges behind the motor park, the back alleys where debts were settled with cutlasses, the abandoned houses that smelled of weed and desperation. No one spoke at first. But when Jay dropped Boss T’s name, tongues loosened.

“Kunle dey dodge for dockside,” one skinny tout whispered, eyes darting. “But if Boss T want am… that guy go die sure.”

The docks were silent that night, the kind of silence that carried danger. The river lapped lazily against rusted ships. Jay walked slowly, hand near his blade. He spotted movement — a shadow slipping between containers.

“Kunle!” Jay’s voice cracked through the night.

His old friend stepped out, clothes dirty, eyes wild. A duffel bag hung from his shoulder, blood smeared on the strap.

“Jay,” Kunle said, voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I swear. Boss T set me up. That money? It was bait. He wanted me dead.”

Jay’s mind raced. Could it be true? Boss T had always tested loyalty in cruel ways. Maybe Kunle was telling the truth. But the bloodstain on the bag… whose was it?

“Why you run?” Jay demanded.

“Because if I stayed, I’d be in a grave. You next, Jay. Don’t you see? Boss T will chew us up and spit us out.”

They stood in silence, two boys who grew up playing football on dusty streets, now pointing guns at each other.

“I came to take you back,” Jay finally said. His voice broke. “Don’t make me drag you.”

Kunle’s eyes softened. “Brother… if you go back, na you go die. You think Boss T will let you rise? No. He’ll bury you before you can shine.”

Jay’s hand trembled. His loyalty split in two — blood oath with Boss T, blood bond with Kunle. Either choice meant blood on his hands.

A sound shattered the moment: footsteps. Dozens. Boss T’s men swarmed in, guns raised. Someone had followed Jay.

Kunle cursed. “You led them here!”

“No!” Jay shouted, but Kunle had already disappeared into the maze of containers. Bullets rained. Jay fired back, barely escaping alive, heart heavy with betrayal — not just Kunle’s, but his own for bringing death to his friend’s doorstep.

 Jay stumbled home, only to find a single note under his door: “Next time, it’s your mother.”