These few weeks have been so bad and hectic for Mr. Lee Mclloyd. First of all, he was accused of a lot of scandals and misconduct about BURAC Oil, a company he channeled almost all his resources to establish. The worst of this is that these evil men championing this are not only interested in making him loose the company, but it’s obvious that they want the end of the whole saga to be lethal. When there seemed to be a ray of hope in the case, that of Miss Theresa Onwe his secretary popped up and that was the one that would eventually pin down the nail. It’s true that he had an affair with her, but that pregnancy was not he’s. It baffles him why these men wanted to ruin his life in such an ungodly manner. Worst still was the gruesome murder of his lawyer, the only last hope he has in the case. Now there is a rumour that he has a hand in the death of Mr. Okey Igballa.
As things stand now, he feared if he would ever come out of this.
He remembered his family at home; Sierra leone, a very lovely family. Tears streamed down his face. He looked himself at the mirror and saw a haggard being. His hair and beard were very unkempt. He has leaned. More wrinkles have developed and his colour has waned. He was dying gradually. His greatest worry was that his family are missing him and if things turn out for these sons of Belial who are after him, he would not only loose the company but may never see his dear family again before he goes to the great beyond.
Barely two days to another court session, he had contacted two different lawyers but they both declined. The documents that were supposed to be in the murdered Mr. Okey Igballa’s missing bag was found in a drawer in his office. How it got there, he did not have the faintest idea of. This is the evidence against him which he was sure he will never clear himself from it. The alibi is very strong.
A strange thought came to him. If he is finally found guilty of all these charges against him, including the murder of Mr. Okey Igballa, he could be executed publicly. He can’t stand that. Suicide! That may be a better option, he thought. A cold chill came over him. He ran his palm on his eyes. He was not dreaming. His eyes moved around the large palour in a clockwise direction. He sighed.
He started thinking how possible it could be . He thought about hanging. He thought of slicing his throat or cutting his vein and allowing himself to bleed to death. He thought of drinking some poisonous substance. None of these options seemed to be easy.
He went to his reading desk and brought out a plain sheet and a pen and he wrote;
This is not what I bargained for. I’m getting a very bad return for all my good wills and intentions.
Greed seemed to be the root cause of this.
But all I know is that I’ve done no man no wrong to deserve this.
Yes, all of you who are involved in this must get what you want but it will never go down well with you.
Your children and children’s children will know no peace, for what measure you used for others, it will be used for you.
My soul is grieved even unto death, but I’m sure that one day, although justice is denied today, truth must surely spring forth.
Bethrand Chikelu, Clifford Olele, Theresa Onwe and you all that have a hand in this must reap what you sowed.
May my anguished soul haunt you wherever you are and in whatever you do till the truth is finally discovered.
He called his steward and asked him to go and fetch Mr. Angus Aremo for him.
When Mr. Aremo came, Mr. Mclloyd was in a very deep thought. A knock at the door startled him. He rubbed his hand on his face and sat up.
“Chairman, you are not helping yourself. Is it because of this case that you are worrying yourself to death? If you are not careful, you are going to develop hypertension.” Mr. Aremo said, standing akimbo.
“It seems as if you are not understanding what I’m passing through man. All that I have labored for in life, I invested into this company and everything is about to crumble and my life equally is at stake. Why…?”
Mr. Angus Aremo cut him amid the sentence. “Is that enough reason for you to worry yourself to death. Don’t you have hope in God anymore? Even if you loose everything, you will still recover them as far as there is life. Relax, this will soon be over.”
Mr. Lee Mclloyd sat him down. “From every indication, I’m loosing this battle. The peak of the whole thing is the assassination of my lawyer. The greatest twist of the whole saga is that I’m being linked to this. I fear that I may not come out of this.” He paused. “This is a very terrible world.” He continued. “Greed and envy are having their way undisturbed. Justice and truth are being relegated. The righteous are suffering and the wicked are thriving like seed in a good soil.” He heaved.
“Chairman …”
“Mr. Angus, allow me to pour out my soul, for I am in a very deep anguish. The waters have come up to my neck and there seems to be no hope or help out of this dark tunnel. These sons and daughters of Belial have vowed to finish me. They have conspired and it is not only working out for them, but they are equally having a field day on it.”
Mr. Angus felt pity for him. Mr. Mclloyd looked like a half baked bread. His visage was very pathetic.
“When I called these men, including you,” he pointed at Mr. Aremo, to form this company, all I had in mind was to form a very strong vegetable oil company that will compete with any vegetable oil company in this country. I thought that these men are friends. Alas, see what is happening now.” He shook his head.
“Chairman, take it easy.” Mr. Angus pleaded.
“I’ve always taken it easy, but it has never solved the problem, instead, it helped the problem to escalate. By Tuesday, the court will give her final verdict and I’ll be banished or even be executed publicly. ….”
“No Chairman. That can never happen.” Mr. Aremo shot in.
“Don’t cajole me. I’m not a kid.”
“Don’t you have faith in God anymore?”
“Leave that out of it now. I am accepting it now as fate.”
Both of them starred at themselves, none spoke for some moments. Then Mr. Mclloyd brought out a white official envelope and handed it to Mr. Angus Aremo. “On Tuesday after the verdict must have been declared and when I must have been sentenced to life jail or immediate execution, then you make copies of the content of this envelope and distribute it to Mr. Bethrand, Mr. Clifford and Miss Theresa Onwe and every other person who might be actively or remotely involved in this.”
Mr. Angus’ hand was shaking when he was receiving the envelope. He was dumbfounded.
On Saturday morning, March 30, 1986, Mr. Lee Mclloyd was found dead in his house. He committed suicide. He could not carry on anymore. He dropped a note by his bedside before he died.