The Bipolar Fog

Nnamdi Caesar slumped into his chair. He had just finished a lawsuit successfully and went to his chambers quickly. It had been a very stressful case. Two technological giants battling for whose software was copied, of course he had known that his opponents were the owners and brains behind the eye recognition software, he had not attacked his clients for stealing the software in the first place. What was important was winning the case. And that was what Caesar was good at; winning cases. And he did.

Rejected by his mother at birth, baby Caesar was admitted into an orphanage home. The matrons at the orphanage were fond of the beautiful little boy whose mother had flatly rejected. They gave him special attention and care than the other orphans. The name Nnamdi Caesar was given to him by the head matron, Lady Chinwe, popularly called Chi. She especially was very fond of the little Caesar. She once told Caesar that she reminded her of her first love who had drowned.

“Perhaps this is another chance that the heavens have given me to treat him right.” She used to say.

Caesar grew into a very fine young boy. He was the tallest in his age group at the orphanage, he came out top in every examination, and this made the matrons fond of him even more. He was the brightest in the orphanage home.

Unlike the other children, Caesar had never asked about his real parents, their whereabouts and why he was rejected because he had so much love and care given to him by Chi.

One night as Caesar slept, a hand grabbed his member, Caesar was paralyzed for this had never happened before, he did not know what to do or how to react. The dormitory was dark, and he tried to adjust his vision to the darkness so he may see the person. What he saw he could not fathom. He froze on the spot. His head ached, his heart drummed, he shook violently with fear and confusion. The familiar figure of Lady Chinwe formed in the darkness. Her brown eyes that Caesar was used to twinkled. As she held his member, on the other hand was a small knife.

“Shh,” She warned. “Don’t make a sound or else you will wake the others up.”

Caesar fearfully nodded his head.

“Now, get up and come to my room.”

Little Caesar obeyed.

What happened next that night will haunt Caesar for the rest of his life. His so-called beloved Lady Chinwe had made him do acts he did not understand. She had made good use of his member. She had inserted it into herself. He never knew girls had something like that. The act was disgusting but what he could not understand was why it excited him. Since that day, Caesar began to think of his own parents. Would they do something like that to him? Why did they throw him away? Or would they have done worse to him? So many questions went unanswered, and this depressed Caesar. The once bright, social and cheerful boy became quiet, reserved, and dark. The love for Lady Chinwe turned to hate. He stopped performing well in school. He stopped playing with the other children. He found refuge in books. He found the fantasies appealing. Since that night, he had continuous nightmares. And Lady Chinwe was always the one tormenting him. It became so frequent that he hallucinated regularly. The other matrons at the orphanage thought that he had eaten black magic so they stayed clear from him. The attention given to him stopped. Everyone left him alone. Lady Chinwe stopped talking to him.

Caesar wanted so badly for the nightmares to stop. He searched for the cause of the nightmares. He chuckled when he realized what the source of the torment was, or who. Well, he had to put a stop to it, Once and for all.

The next day they found Lady Chinwe lying dead on her bed.

Some months after the death of Lady Chinwe, Caesar left the orphanage. He went in search of his parents who had abandoned him at birth. He was given the name of the hospital that he was born in before he left the orphanage. Unfortunately there were no records of his birth. This angered him. He swore to never look for his parents again. He resumed school and worked extra hard. He won scholarships and was admitted into the University of Lagos to study law. What or who he was never affected his thoughts. He carved a new name for himself. The one people had come to find intriguing, love and respect, the mystified character, the name that is Nnamdi Caesar.

After he was called to bar, the International Journal, a weekly magazine featured him on their cover page where his cooked up biography was fed to the public. He had angrily torn his copy of the journal when he read the caption with his teeth. It read: “I was rejected at birth.”

Three weeks later the editor of the International Journal was food poisoned and he was admitted. He later died in his sleep.

It was during Caesar’s fourth year as a barrister that he had met Barr. Kunle. It was during a lawsuit. Caesar was prosecuting a kidnapper, and Kunle was the defending lawyer. Kunle’s mannerisms and style had intrigued Caesar in all sorts of way. He had first disliked the man for his over cheerful attitude and his ever smiling face but he later realized that he liked him for his aggressive professionalism. Even though Caesar had lost the case, he had gained a friend, a rival.

He paid the barrister visits when he was chanced and asked for his advice once in a while. With time, he had noticed some things about the man; he was comfortably single and was alone. He enjoyed his own company and was happy with the fact that he had many enemies. This struck Caesar as odd. But he never brought up the topic whenever he visited the barrister. They kept a close but limited relationship; they both respect each other’s private lives.

It was during one of his many visits to the man’s chambers that Kunle had confided in him about something he considered top secret. That is he had trust Caesar to the extent that he was willing to share a secret, even if it is one. Caesar never regarded anyone to be his friend. He had no close attachments and he kept it so. Too much emotion is tantamount to destruction, he’d always muse.

According to Kunle, a top politician had approached him, seeking his skill and expertise, but in a classified task. That he wanted a second will. A backup will Kunle had called it. Caesar could only chuckle as Kunle told him this, to hide his yearning for such juicy information. Right from childhood he had hated gossips. But he couldn’t help himself on this one. The lawyer in him had overtaken his principles, or whatever it is called.

Kunle had whispered what it was for when Caesar had asked.

“He said he needed it incase anything happened to him or his immediate family. As you know, he had acquired so much wealth, which he knows people would surely target. He wanted a backup will for his wealth to be distributed fairly.” The barrister told Caesar who wanted to ask to whom was his wealth assigned to but held himself.

“Did you accept the proposal?” He managed to ask.

“Bloody yes I did. You have no idea how much he promised me.” There was a twinkle in his eye.

“How much did he offer?”

“I Can’t tell – sorry.”

Caesar bit his lip. “My! You are lucky.” He feigned excitement. “Let’s drink to it.” He raised his glass of McDowell’s, Kunle did the same. Their glasses clinked as they brought them together.

“To more cases.” They cheered.

Kunle had died a gory death some months later. Caesar drank in his honor when the news got to him. He had fallen to a trance that was becoming frequent and he had woken up with the smell of petrol strongly on his skin. He told nobody about this.

But then, who was there to tell?

As he lay exhausted on the chair, a small part of him wished Kunle was there with him, celebrating the success of another case.

Another part missed the smell of roses.