Hi guys, I know some of you have been wondering why there haven’t been new episodes of SDC, I haven’t exactly been feeling the story for a while now and you know me, it has to be (at least) half good for it to be written.

Plus, since some people have difficulties separating the Writer from the works (i’ve been called porn writer😮  ) I have decided to create a Pseudonym for my Erotica. Good news is with that, I can write as many as possible without caring if some shallow minded individual will walk up to me and say all I write is ‘porn’ when I’ve been writing my ass off for five years with some of the best prose fiction online.

I mean, there is a reason I write my erotica with so much depth. At the risk of sounding cocky, I have more storyline in SDC than 5o Shades Of Grey did. One of my friends Chiemeka even told me SDC is not an erotica because where is the erotica? 😂 But I guess it will still be called porn by some people whether I like it or not.

Anyway with the new arrangement people who really follow my work and are true fans can decide which one they wanna read and, for those who only like erotica, you can pick the erotica too.

I haven’t decided a Pseudonym yet. But once I do and I can get vibes to continue SDC, y’all will hear.

E se! 

Read the first 8 Episodes of Squadi HERE

“In Unity strength is gained, strength for good things and, not so good things”



He was sitting behind the wheels of his father’s recently acquired 1966 Ford Mustang, his head idly nodding to a Marvin Gaye classic.


He longed for a puff; the last time he’d smoked weed was two weeks before, shortly before he landed himself in the Hospital for that Puff Puff he had eaten.

Since then, he had not had the privilege of holding weed in his hands. He made a mental note to call his best friend when he got home and ask him to arrange good weed for him. Their guy from CMS was forever loyal.

His fingers found the volume of the radio in the car and he increased the sound as another Marvin Gaye classic began. It was Sexual Healing this time. He mouthed the lyrics, throwing his head back as he sang out loud.

“Baaaaaby, I can’t hold it much longer, it’s getting stronger… sexual healing” he chuckled, singing out loud was one of his favorite things to do and he absolutely loved indulging in it right now just like every other time he had done so in the past.

The Sun which seemed to have a vendetta against the human race did nothing to drown his ecstasy, line after line of the successful Blues rolling off his tongue like he had been at the studio while the song was being recorded.

He tapped his fingers on the steering, moving his shoulders and ignoring the stares of passersby.

He was Hakeem Rasaq and he could damn well sing wherever he wanted.

Spotting Ekanem strolling out of the Police Station, her younger brother following right behind her, he realized his little studio moment was about to be over.

They joined him in seconds, a smile on Ekanem’s lips when she heard him singing.

“You don’t have a bad voice” she mentioned, “I would never have expected that”

He shrugged. There were many things a lot of people did not expect about him but he still was those things.

“Is that your brother?” he asked, reducing the volume of his music.

Ekanem nodded, “Emem, say thank you to the brother that got you out of Cell” she pushed her brother gently in front of Hakeem.

Hakeem watched the teenager. He was likely just a few years younger but he looked like he was way younger. That was because of his frail frame and the complex he bore on his shoulders like the shoulder pads from clothes in the early 90s. It was incredibly hard to miss.

Hakeem felt bad for him and instantly knew that a guy like him could only have stolen because he felt the need to save someone dear to him. He wished he felt that way for anyone at all, but he didn’t.

Maybe if his mother had lived long enough, maybe he would have felt that way for her but at the moment, he did not see himself doing the most ridiculous for anyone at all.

An emptiness suddenly engulfed him, and he realized that even though he was surrounded by people he was lonely.

He wished he had real family like Emem.

“Thank you Sir” Emem said, his voice quivered. He looked battered and exhausted. Weeks behind bars had done a number on him.

“My name is Hakeem” Hakeem said stretching his hand for a shake, “You can call me Hakeem”

Emem took his hand and shook it, even the shake was weak. The guy was exhausted.

“Ekanem, I think you should take Emem home to rest. He seems in need of it”

Ekanem nodded, “Thank you so much, Hakeem. God will bless you”

Hakeem smiled, “It’s nothing. Get in guys. Let me drop you off at yours”

“I don’t think you should worry, we can get a bike here…”

“Nonsense. I have come this far already, I might as well drive you home” he did not have anything to lose really. The roads on this side of town were in terrible shape and it made it quite challenging to drive the Mustang but he honestly had no problem delivering them to their doorstep.

He had the time, his father had allowed him use the car because he “almost lost him” and he wanted to keep Ekanem close so she could be useful to him when the time came for them to finish the reason they all came together in the first place.

Emem hopped into the backseat and Ekanem took her space near him. Firing up the engine, Hakeem sped out of the Police station they had gone to pick Emem from. Taking directions from Ekanem, he was soon on the road that led to their house.

Where they lived was a sharp contrast to where he lived and as much as he was aware of  the differences in their lifestyle and his, he hadn’t been prepared for the vast contrast that welcomed him when he arrived at their house.

The building was unpainted and half complete. The house sat alone in a very quiet area, the closest house to it three to four minutes’ drive away. The bushes around were contained and Hakeem noted that they had recently been trimmed.

A large percentage of the house itself was cemented, the remaining was yet to be touched. This was no Lekki or Banana Island, except the puddles of stagnant water housed in potholes which surrounded most of the houses in the Area counted as sea water.

A local dog wagged its tail the moment Ekanem and Emem alighted from his car, it ran to Emem leaning on its hind legs while it placed its fore legs on his chest.

Emem was as pleased to see the dog as it was to see him.

A woman Hakeem guessed was in her early forties and who bore a striking resemblance with Ekanem strolled out of the front door. She was clad in nothing but an Ankara wrapper which she wrapped tightly around her chest.

Hakeem instantly knew that was Ekanem’s mother.

“Your mom” Hakeem said to Ekanem. She nodded. Even though the woman looked like she had seen life, she was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

He wondered what she would look like if she had all the money Martha had.

“Do you think she would mind me coming to greet her?” he asked. Ekanem shook her head.

“But please don’t come”

Hakeem was surprised but he obeyed. “I’ll call you” he said to her and she nodded, waving at him. Clearly, she wanted him gone as soon as possible. “Text me your account number. And take care of your brother”

As soon as she shut the door to his car, he drove out of the area.



Lerato was sprawled on the bed, her Tab clutched in her hands. Her fingers, well painted in a bright lemon color Ajayi was certain only she could pull off, deftly typed a mail on the Tab. She glanced at him from time to time as she spoke.

Ajayi refused to allow his eyes linger on the tiny shorts she was wearing, which generously revealed her very firm butt and endless legs, neither did he allow his roaming eyes the liberty to wander upwards, to her bare back which was in full glare thanks to the halter crop top she’d chosen that afternoon.

Instead, he devoted his gaze to her Tab and fingers and sometimes, he allowed himself stare at the straight long weave that cascaded her shoulders. Her fingers paused from time to time, tucked in a few stubborn strands and continued work on her digital tab.

“You can crash into your school exam records but you cannot hack into an account to steal money.” She raised her gaze, beautiful brown eyes complimented with faux lashes met his and held it. “Talk to mama, what exactly are you not saying to any of your little friends?”

He looked away from her, his eyes held by the pale liquid that was in the champagne flute sitting right in front of him.

She’d ordered a light lunch earlier and insisted on Champagne. Both of them had shared a drink which he barely touched and he had refused to go further than that.

He hated to drink but Lerato could pretty much make him do anything.

He sometimes wondered if he would have fallen for her if she were younger.

“Maybe there are some things I cannot do” he replied, watching the bubbles rise in the glass as he refilled it.


“You’re right, there are some things you cannot do. But not things like this one” she threw the Tab near her on the massive bed, received the glass when he handed it over to her and took a sip. “After we spoke while I was in South Africa the last time, I wondered how you did not know until I had pointed out what to do to you. It just felt weird. You’re a Wiz, AJ. How did you not think of that? My little nephew in College can do that for goodness sake”

Ajayi smiled, “Your little nephew is a Wiz”

“Stop playing games and answer me, AJ”

He refused to say a word. He watched her prop an elbow after dropping the glass in her hand on a nearby table. “You’re scared”


“You are”

He did not deny it this time.

Since his bond strengthened with Hakeem, his fear had even heightened. He knew now, more than ever, it was going to be hard to say no.

Plus he had met Hakeem’s father and he could see why they did not get along with each other. Choosing to steal from him was another topic entirely but he could see the glaring reason Hakeem couldn’t be pals with his old man.

“Don’t do it if you’re this scared, AJ” Lerato was worried about him, he could see that. Her pretty hazel eyes carried unmistakable fear. She stood and walked all the way to where he was sitting on the couch near her bed. “Babe, you’re a computer genius, one this country is probably not ready for. You’re not a thief, not a criminal”

“I’m helping a friend”

“You’re doing what you don’t want to do” she held his face in her soft hands. He inhaled her feminine scent, she smelled of wild flowers but in a very tamed way. He resisted the urge to bury his head in her full boobs. “Trust me, your life is easier with less complications. I know this much”

“Why? Because you do really bad things?”


“What do you do, King? You’ve never really told me”

“This isn’t about me AJ”

“Oh, we can discuss your worries for me but not mine for you?”

Her lips curled up in a smile, “You’re worried for me”

He shrugged, “I know you’re doing really dangerous things.”

“We all do dangerous things to survive”

“Then let me do this dangerous thing for my friend”

“I don’t want you to fuck your life up before you have even started. Please”

He was tempted to listen to her, her words, coupled with the effect of her cologne blinded him for a few seconds but he fought it off. He stood, grabbed his bag pack.

“I have to go. My parents know school is on break, I have to go see them” he had almost made it to the door before she grabbed his hand. She whirled him around in one quick move, causing him to crash into her before he could think.

Her lips crushed against his, giving him a taste of her soft lips. She was delicious and he wanted more.

He threw her into the bed and pinned her hands down when she tried to unbutton him.

“No, babe. For the next few minutes, I am King” then he shut her up with his mouth, his hands pulling that tiny top of her off her.



She was picking beans in a large Tray when her mother found her. Taking the space near her on the bench, she joined her in separating the beans from the dirt that surrounded it in the plastic tray.


They worked in silence for a while, each aware of the inevitable conversation that was coming.

“Who is he?”

“My friend”

“Which type of friend”

“The type that is nice”


They continued the chore mechanically for a while; picking beans, getting rid of the dirt and throwing it into the clean bowl by Ekanem’s feet.

“Are you in love with him?”

She paused, her eyes flying to her mother’s unperturbed frame. The woman acted like she had not just asked her a very serious question.

“No!” she replied, returning to the chore at hand she added, “Na like dat e dey happen?”

“No. but how many boys have come here, helped your brother out of Police station and tried to come greet your mother?”

“I don’t know who sent Emem to tell you that he wanted to come down”

“So it is not bad that you told him to stay inside the car? You also don’t see anything wrong in Emem telling me?”

Ekanem shrugged. She could do without discussing Hakeem with her mother.

“He is a very nice young man”

“He is still a boy, he has a lot of growing up to do”

“Don’t we all?”

Ekanem eyed her mother, she refused to yield to the temptation of asking her what the statement meant.

Her mother always felt the need to bond with any man she saw around her. It was what she had done with her ex Bashir, the Prince. And even though she had not minded the friendship while they dated, the moment her relationship with Bashir had hit the rocks, she hated how her mother tried to salvage things by calling Bashir and trying to talk to him.

She also hated how rude Bashir had been to her.

“I have invited him to lunch tomorrow”

Ekanem froze.

Her mother continued like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb, “He said his school is on Holiday and that he would like to come”

“Mummy, what is all these now?”

“He said he likes Egusi soup. Emem and I will pound yam. Will you join us?”

“Someone that had food poisoning from Puff Puff, you want to feed him the type of soup he might not be able to eat? Why did you call him?”

“To say thank you”

“And so you want to feed him Pounded Yam to say thank you too?”

“I see you will not be joining us to pound the yam. Well, we would do it ourselves” then the older woman returned her attention to the beans in the Tray like nothing had happened.

Ekanem seethed.



He’d just made a stop at CMS when the call from Hakeem had come through. He had asked for them to meet as soon as possible. The meeting place was in a secluded bar somewhere close to Ajah.

Hakeem mentioned it belonged to one of his friend’s Uncles. Yellow hadn’t asked too many questions, the serious looks on the faces of Hakeem and Ajayi when he arrived didn’t leave room for any question.

They shook hands when he arrived, each of the guys hailing him before he pulled out a chair and sat.

He ordered a Beer after Hakeem signaled at the Waiter and a plate of Asun followed almost immediately.


“How are the twins?” Hakeem asked as Yellow filled his glass.

“Dem dey cause trouble.”

Hakeem chuckled, “You did not know when you were making them abi?”

“No mind am” Ajayi quipped, the trio shared a laugh before Hakeem proceeded.

“I’m sorry I called you suddenly but AJ asked for this meeting”

Yellow noticed Ekanem was not present but he restrained from asking about her. “No problem, chairman. Wassup?”

“We’re setting plans in motion ASAP. Since we’re on break from School right now, I figured it would be a good time to get this over with” Ajayi replied, “Ekanem will still be doing her thing by helping us click on the link and opening Alhaji’s account to us”

“I texted her earlier and she said next week would be a good time since my Dad has asked to see her then” Hakeem added

“So while Ekanem is doing her thing, someone has to be transferring the money into an account. An account Hakeem would have access to”

“Hmm… beht you sure say dem no go fit trace dat account?” he looked at both guys. Ajayi and Hakeem exchanged glances. Hakeem smiled.

“I told AJ you were smart” Hakeem said

Yellow laughed, “Emi omo Lagos Island”

“That’s why ‘Keem insisted on having you here. You see, that untraceable account business, that is where you come in” Ajayi produced a document printed in black and white. Yellow knew enough to understand it was a statistics of some sort. “This is a statistics of the number of crimes Banks have been able to trace after a fraud like ours”

Yellow nodded, “80% of crimes happen for Naija”

“Yes. 80% of those crimes were perpetuated from Nigeria so it was quite easy for the Banks to close in on the people who carried out this fraud.” Hakeem pointed out, “However, out of all the frauds that have been carried out in this exact style we’re trying to use, most of the ones outside Nigeria still remain unsolved”

Yellow leaned over, reached for his glass and downed some beer. “Hmm…”

“At the Hospital the other day, before Hakeem was rushed to the Island, I saw your Cousin”

“Ifeanyi” Yellow provided his cousin’s name

“The one who spoke fluent Twi”

“He has been living in Ghana since he was small” Yellow added, a peppered snail found its way into his mouth.

“We’re going to need you to convince Ifeanyi to set up an account under a fake name in Ghana, without telling him what we’re trying to do of course, then as soon as Ekanem opens up my father’s account to us, we’re going to transfer it to that account…” Hakeem began

“Right after we do that, you would withdraw all the money from the bank and bring it to ‘Keem” Ajayi concluded

“That simple” Yellow said

“That simple” Hakeem reiterated.

“During this period, all three of us would be in Ghana so everything can go as fast as possible.” Ajayi mentioned and Yellow acquiesced.

“I will call Ifeanyi and tell him to expect visitors.”

Ajayi looked at Hakeem now, “Hakeem are you sure you don’t want us to just get the password of the email created from Ekanem? That way we can do everything from our end”

“I already told you AJ, that would slow us down.”

Ajayi shrugged, “At least tell her to get his account details as soon as possible, including whatever PINs and passwords we need to have”

Yellow leaned back, watched the two guys near him intently. They trusted him, and he was going to show them that he was worth that trust.

  • SQUADI: The Originals

– Tomilola Coco Adeyemo

By the way, I hope y’all watch Africa Magic’s new Telenovella ‘Hush’. You better. And yeah, I kinda write on it too. 🙂