On that bright beautiful morning, we left our hotel in Antwerp and took a taxi to Brussels.
Our Afriqiya flight would leave from Brussels Airport.
I had a mixed feelings that morning, News had somehow filtered in from Amsterdam about how the Nigerians and indeed some other Africans, Joined the Suriname people to riot and protest about the killing of two innocent young men.
According to witnesses, Joel and his friend were just two innocent young men who never even smoked cigarette. They were victims of racism according to the report by some human rights Ghanaian Lawyer who had his office in Breda Holland. The Biased bastard lawyer in a bid to make some small money out of the riot, was being interviewed in a Belgium TV Channel. We had watched from the hotel room as he narrated what happened as if he was there.
Other TV and news paper stations were also there at the scene. NOS, the German Bild and Zeitung, the African Bulletin and some unknown media companies. Everybody was there, trying to unravel what was happening.
The actors who were involved in the issue had been taken away except the Master himself who was on his way to Africa.
The bastard lawyer from Ghana who said his name was Kofi something, was boasting about how he was going to sue the Netherlands Police for the murder of two innocent Young men who had never hurt a fly.
On a second thought, i loved it that i settled for Afriqiya airline. Most of he European governments were afraid to go into trouble with the great African Leader called Murmar Ghadaffi, who owns the Afriqiya airlines.
A year or so ago, the second or third son of the Libya president was stopped and searched in a Switzerland airport. They accused him of having abused either his wife or daughter.
As a result of that single incident, Ghadaffi had stopped all oil shipments to Switzerland and closed the embassy of Libya in Switzerland as well.
The European government, that bought the Libya oil off Switzerland had thought that they could force Ghadaffi into backing down but things got worse when Ghadaffi called for Jihad on Switzerland.
It took the intervention of good friends of Libya to make Ghadaffi change his mind.
Immediately after that incident, the Afriqiya airline became a golden egg for the European authorities. They stopped even searching the airline like those of other African countries.
They knew that Ghadaffi himself hated terrorism. Ghadaffi never allowed terrorists in his Country and as a result, the Americans and the British never saw an excuse to invade Libya.
It was the same with Egypt and Tunisia.
Those three countries were the best in Africa. Their economies were very good, their currencies were the equivalent of the US Dollars and all those things made the west very uncomfortable.
What did they say?
That Africa was finally going to be good.
What should we do?
Remove Ghadaffi of Libya, Remove Mubarak of Egypt and that Ben Ali of Tunisia, Africa will fall to the ground again.
There is God.
That was what happened, wasn’t it.
Mubarak was forced out of Egypt, the same with Ben Ali of Tunisia and Ghadaffi of Libya. The entire North Africa collapsed and spilled down to the west and East.
What was the offense of these top African Leaders?
The west said they have ruled for long. Really?
What was keeping them from removing Paul Biya of Cameroun? Or Mugabe, or Omar Bongo and tens of other sit tight African Presidents?
Have you asked yourselves that questions?
Not just because there were no resources. No.. That was the silly excuse we massaged our bad brains with. The bigger issue was that those sit tight presidents were all blacks. They were all moving their countries backwards instead of forward.
So why would the west care? They only wanted us to remain backwards, carry our money to their banks, keep our people poor and keep begging them for aids.
And those black president were doing all that for them.
A mere minister and commissioner in Nigeria, Cameroun, Kenya and other black nations had houses in Europe and United States. They had hidden bank accounts in all western countries while their citizens suffered back home.
Ghadaffi was one president who made the west to respect his citizens. Never in any country would you see a Libyan, a Tunisian or an Egyptian stranded or suffering. Their governments would send for them immediately and care for them. Wasn’t that the same thing the west were doing? Caring for the citizens?
They go to their propaganda media tool called CNN and BBC to tell you that Ghana is the best country in Africa. What Ghana?
Do you really believe such crap?
Ghanaians are all over the World suffering.
Ghadaffi had bought respect for his country and as a result, i was not going to have any fear in Afriqiya airline. I was an African and Ghadaffi loved all Africans. He even put the name ‘The Wings of Africa’ or something like that.
While other countries were naming their airlines names such as Ethiopian airways, Kenya Airways, etc, this great leader opted for Afriqiya. He had great dreams for the black continent. He knew the west was never our friends. He knew the west was one reason why we were where we were and what did we do in return? We all helped them to kill him. Now go and see how Libya is.
At the Brussel Airport, we waited for our flight to be announced. As we sat there and drank coffee, i reflected on the things i did in the past few years in Europe. They all flooded and flashed back to me as if they happened only a few days ago.
Where was i supposed to start analysing those things?
The near deaths, the dangers of meeting with unknown enemies, the drugs deals that went wrong and nearly resulted to my death, the encounter with many African Teenage girls who roamed the European streets from Italy to France, Holland to Germany, Belgium to Switzerland.
After looking at all those things, i said to myself, ‘there is one big God.
There is one supreme being up there that made all those things possible’.
No matter how much i tried to think that i was clever, brilliant and smart, i couldn’t help but also believe there was one supreme being somewhere out there.
That i was brilliant during my school days wasn’t really my doing. It wasn’t really because i paid attention to the teachers. It wasn’t that because, i started having the first position in my classes right from elementary One back in Primary school. It wasn’t my doing because i knew nothing then.
It was a natural blessing from some unseen powers.
Back in the same primary school when i was in Elementary 6, I looked at some of the things my mates write, and i found out i was far better than them even four years before that. It wasn’t out of my powers. Those things were nature at work.
Many people who came to Europe to deal on drugs were captured just after their first attempt, they were thrown to Prisons but such never happened to me. I had always escaped. It wasn’t because of my being clever or intelligent. While those counted a little, there was a divine luck from somewhere.
In conclusion, Irrespective of whatever i said in the past over how we Africans worshiped our Pastors and made them rich, i knew that we didn’t just come here out of our own powers. I had always wanted it in a way that we all come up with our own ideas on how best to thank the Supreme being that controls us down here.
I thank you my readers, for running up to this stage with me.
This story was written with the inspiration of the Supreme being.
Knowing who i was and knowing that i was never someone who would sit down in one place to write for hours, i believe that some divine powers were involved in this work.
I believe that a lot of us have learnt one or two things from this work, the things we never knew existed.
The wickedness of the Italian Mamas to the African teenage girls. The wickedness of the European authorities against African Immigrants.
While we prepare for the next season of our running, i wish to thank you once more for making me feel like a great writer.
In no special order, i would like to thank the Special LOTR EXCLUSIVE (Life on the run) Whatsapp group. These wonderful guys and girls from all over the World, were one reason why we got to where we are. They supported this work with encouragement, chatting with me on daily basis and making sure that i kept writing even when i threatened to quit.
The LOTR1 group, made up of Students from all over the Country.
These young men and women reminded me how it was and how it would have been if i had gone to a Nigerian University.
While i teach them what i learnt from the University of Life, they thought me what was happening in the Nigerian Universities.
One or two other people who sent me recharge cards occasional to buy data to make sure i had no excuse to stay offline.
And most importantly You. Yes you who is reading this note now.
Get ready because the Running continues.
End of Season book 7. Book 8 starts here – Season 8: No Place Like Home: The Missing Brother
– Zuby, September 2014.
Copyright – Global Runs 2014