>In there, politicians had gone back, thinking of a future war and they don’t want to be left open. But the secrecy of their hideous practice became the only block left out.

>The looted funds, caused more issues when masses had their veils off with hints hitting them when suffering became unbearable and then, the government ran back to cover up their tracks. Animal tales were placed in the center of it with daily feud about a huge sum of money being stolen by mysterious animals. It went on and on, unending, with just few people being able to flag options for challenges. 


![in my head MockUp.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmZBtzuyNcf731V5yYdru6Qc24SyhmWtBp13BoWyKJ6MDi/in%20my%20head%20MockUp.jpg)

(TWILIGHT) IN MY HEAD S3 EPS2 

The plane taking off was the best thing that had ever happened to Luta all his life. He sat with an essence of arrogance puffing him up, launching him up in the clouds. He casted his fears on those wings and he took in those favorable air like he was being welcomed to paradise. 

He was seated in his own class. His suit, clean and smooth, made off expensive slick, best, off the stores of Italy. He had it tailored down ARAFT mall, the most expensive shop in Kumasi. When Delta told him about a new life, yeah, he didn’t believe it until he had to sniff the receipt of the suit. It had this choking and expensive scent. 


Luta reached for is breast pocket, took out his phone and studied his face from his reflection. His tanned skin! 

“Hmmm”, he smiled. 
His beard was well combed and jelled, his long hair was gone. This was his lowest cut ever. But with the beards, he looked shippable and he felt slave traders might bid him a million pounds to have him stand outside a master’s house. He pushed aside that thought and tucked his phone away. 
He was far away from the economy class and that alone made him feel he could switch up things and act funny. Then, he spilled his drink and watched the flight attendant frown. The fear of being thrown off the plane calmed his nerves, having him force sleep on himself throughout the rest of the journey. 


***
Just what the rest of the world feel about Africa isn’t what it is. Some parts of Africa have taken it far with some development. Though covered and hidden, that would still be no stand to neglect its existence. 

How technology had gone prime with a lot of looted funds running high tech and AI programs into its advancement, is very explainable. All rooting from the pie in the plate of the politicians, who see no use to the national cake, stolen. Greed pushing them to empower programs that would benefit them in the long run, slow aging and generating tools that would make them stand chances to compete with more powerful men in external political circles. 

Nigeria began the trend. They had richer man and more men in the power circle who found fund looting as a game of fun with men, kings and slaves coming together to cheat on the masses. 


In there, politicians had gone back, thinking of a future war and they don’t want to be left open. But the secrecy of their hideous practice became the only block left out.

The looted funds, caused more issues when masses had their veils off with hints hitting them when suffering became unbearable and then, the government ran back to cover up their tracks. Animal tales were placed in the center of it with daily feud about a huge sum of money being stolen by mysterious animals. It went on and on, unending, with just few people being able to flag options for challenges. 

Months after months, contracts were signed, ensuring more foreign programmers and scientist cross the border down to west Africa, Nigeria. It sounded confusing, the research could have been done in Europe or Asia where there were better equipment and tool to uphold a better pace in advancement. 

Underground laboratory were set up at the extreme end of Lagos, lands Ogun struggled to claim, places untraceable. With more industrial operation rocking the country to induce foster anxiety into the heart of the people about infrastructural and industrial advancement, structures were built to harbor those laboratories to dispose an adoptive appearance for anyone trying to watch. This structures were given to foreign business owners, thus, well managed and less explosive. The tons of foreign workers at the disposition of the industries had Nigerians raise up their brows and in other to suppress the petitions, thus, preventing further probing by foreign government, the Nigerian government moved in and they gave way for few local workers. Few, that the government felt were loyal, having been watched extensively, were drawn in to the secrecy they had harbored with better payout and oath sworn in exchange for a sealed lip. 


It was 10 straight years after the program had been ran successfully that the government let it off to extend, covering military operations. It was the same cycle of looters dominating the power cycle and it was the ELIJAH ELISAH ministry. Fathers passing powers to children, mentors to mentee; teaching them how to milk the nation’s breast into family bowls, privatizing national sectors. 


Eric sat behind a mini laptop after a cup of hot coffee, one he had taken down stairs to keep his eyes from shutting close. He had been at work since 8am and it was 3am already, he had not achieved anything all day. Same task all month, he had been trying to work something out. He was tired already and he felt it was a lazy job, but the pay was handsome and well bearded that his Nigerian nature made him feel too comfortable getting paid for nothing. He didn’t understand the job fully well. But he picked up the instructions. 

He was asked to watch a blue radar and make reports anytime it goes red. 

The blink came up this time and it was unbelievable. He had waited three years for a good report. He refreshed the page and the red dot was still blinking. He raised up his bars, hovering his cursor across his screen, he laid it on the dot. A new pop up was pulled up showing some stats only him could read and understand. 

He rushed off the laptop and grabbed the telephone on the desk close to the wall, his breath rasping behind his throat as he clenched his fingers, throwing it around the receiver. 

“Hello! Boss…” 
His anxiety, drilling off into his accent. 

“I found! It blinked. The red light came on.” 
He stopped talking, his lips slightly apart, his eyes high up as he casted a gaze on the wall, awaiting a reply from the other end. 

“Location... Location… Location…” He repeated. 

He had his eyes closed for a while and he had what he wanted drop along his memory lane. 
“Muritala Mohammed Airport, boss. That’s the lead for the signal. It's altitudinal, seems it’s in the air sir.” 

The line dropped abruptly and Eric let down his guards to help the pressure coming in quick on him. 

He felt he had failed again and he had just made another stupid report. He returned to his seat and instead of watching, he slept off.

GODWIN OKHUOYA