Right on Time is a captivating crime fiction novel that delves into the extraordinary journey of a 16-year-old girl named Ayanate, who tragically lost her sight on the day of her high school final paper. As the daughter of a single mother of two, Ayanate's life takes an unexpected turn when she finds herself entangled in the sinister web of a rapidly expanding crime syndicate, five years later. Within the country, a powerful crime syndicate is gaining momentum, spreading like wildfire and striking fear into the hearts of both law enforcement and citizens. At the heart of this syndicate is Savior, a 23-year-old man who holds the position of second in command. With a reputation for ruthlessness and cunning, Savior operates in the shadows, orchestrating the syndicate's illicit activities. What happens when these two completely incompatible worlds collide? Find out in this gripping crime fiction novel.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
FIVE YEARS BACK.
NEW LIFE SECONDARY SCHOOL, PORT HARCOURT
RIVERS STATE, NIGERIA.
The tropical June sun was already mid-ascent in the pale blue morning sky, overlooking the SS3 students of New Life Secondary School that stood in a wobbly queue at the entrance of the large PTA hall. They were there for the West Africa Senior Secondary Certificate Examination (WASSCE).
The school atmosphere was lit with the jubilant and smiling faces of the SS3 students. Some of the SS2 students passed by the WASSCE exam hall, staring at the SS3 students in awe and a sprinkle of envy. Oh, to be one day on the brink of the open cage called school, about to fly free like these opportune ones were!
Some of the junior students who passed by the exam hall observed the seniors with different expressions on their faces. The comments that these wannabes blurted were the most fascinating spice in this setting.
From the well-wishers: "Congratulations, seniors! I'm so happy for you guys."
From the jumpy sanguines: "Oh, I wish I were you, seniors."
From the curious investigators: "What does it feel like to be writing your final secondary school exams?"
From the impatient: "When will my turn come?"
From the prayer warriors: "The God that did it for these SS3 students will also do it for me."
From the truants and bad boys: "I'm glad to see these blasted seniors go. I don't like them one bit."
From the pessimists: "God no go shame una ooo. Hope you sha have plan B?"
From the lazy: "School na scam."
From the motivational speakers: "Life na turn by turn ooo."
The exam of gloom-glory had started a month back. Today, ninety percent of the students would be writing their final papers.Too bad for those who had selected Woodwork as their compulsory vocational subject for that was to be the very last paper.
Among this cluster of WASSCE finalists was a pretty, petite, sixteen-year-old girl who bore the name Ayanate Green.
Like every other student in her class, she was thrilled to be writing her final paper.
Before leaving home that morning, her mother, Mrs Righteous Green, had hugged and congratulated her in advance. Her only brother, Preye Green, who was a 200 level Computer Science student of the University of Port Harcourt, had even promised to take her out for fun and ice-cream after her final paper. So excited was she about his promise that she couldn't wait.
She had studied frantically for this exam, and in her mind, she could see herself receiving her own question paper, going through the questions, and answering every one of them perfectly well, so well that it could be used for a marking guide. The thought made her chuckle under her breath.
Her eyes scanned her environment. She knew that after her graduation she would dearly miss this place that had become like a second home to her. Now was the time to slowly drink in the sight that would soon be tagged her Alma Mater.
The blaring colors of the immaculately trimmed and lush ornamental flowers that accentuated the ridge of each building were not lost to her optical sense. The classroom blocks were painted white and orange, a partial contrast to the school uniform—navy blue blazers, white skirts for the girls, white trousers for the boys and a matching blue and white striped tie.
It was 9:30 a.m., exactly thirty minutes before the exams commenced. Some of the junior classes had already started their second lesson period for the day, the class being the much detested nightmare of average students—Mathematics.
Her gaze moved to the school's sports field, a few meters to the right side of the hall. She saw a gang of boys in her class laughing and chatting. Her heart skipped a little at the sight of these macho beauties.
"Stop it. You're embarrassing me," she chided her heart.
But her heart refused to acknowledge her warning.
In fact, when her eyes caught the frame of a certain lanky, young, male student chilling with some of the guys in her set, it bounded up an extra two fifty miles per hour, like an antelope being chased by a tiger.
There he was, standing in an imaginary spotlight, sparkles flying all around him, with his God-given features distinguishing him from the crowd. Anyone seeing him for the first time would immediately take a second glimpse because he was so different. He had a peculiar aura about him.
He was none other than Munachimso Onuoha, the school's male Senior Prefect.
As far as she knew, she had been crushing on him since forever.
She couldn't hear what he was saying as he chatted with the boys, but she could see from the smile spread across his face that it was a conversation that made him happy. His smile made her smile as well. His joy made her happy. Wasn't that what love was about? To be happy when the one you love is happy, and to feel their pain when they are sad?
Munachimso was quite tall for his age. about 6'1. He was indisputably handsome. He seemed to be moulded from a different cast with his rare androgynous look. Lacquered and enameled by the sun, he radiated energy and brio. His mountain-peak cheekbones appeared chiseled with the dexterity of a master sculptor. With eyes as bright and spell-binding as lodestars, he bewitched all those who fell under his steady gaze. His dark brown eyes danced and twinkled, with cute dimples appearing on both cheeks when he smiled.
To top it up, he was also among the school football team's best and first eleven players. Those who were Ronaldo's fans called him Ronaldo, and those who were Messi's fans called him Messi.
He had what it took to attract ladies to himself, like a magnet would nails. One would think that a person of his caliber would turn himself into the greatest playboy of all time, but no, he wasn't a womanizer. He treated the female folk like innocent, fragile vessels and casual friends, not like toys to be fiddled with. And that was one of the many qualities Ayanate adored about him.
He was a focused and serious-minded student. One of the best the school had ever produced. Ladies swam around him like bees about a nectar-producing flower. Many were ready to go to great lengths to express their feelings for him, but he still treated them like friends or sisters. It was either he was a fool, or he was oblivious of his screaming qualities and the starry-eyed feminine company they attracted. The latter was most likely.
He had none of that because he wasn't a heartbreaker or a game-player. Besides, one of the female students had actually captured his heart. She was Mary Obiora, the female Senior Prefect. And they were in a dating relationship already. Head Boy plus Head Girl. As they say, two heads are better than one. The students saw it as a match made in heaven.
Still, some of the female students who were crushing on Munachim disliked the head girl for taking over what they believed was their rightful position. These were determined to either have him for themselves or share him with Mary.
As Munachim kept on discussing with his fellow classmates, he seemed to have a premonition that someone was staring at him because he shifted his gaze and caught Ayanate admiring him. Alarmed at being discovered, she swiftly and stylishly wheeled away.
Ayanate's chocolate skin flushed in embarrassment and she tried to hide her burning cheeks. What would she say to the inquisitive parrots if they caught her looking so flustered? That the school's Head Boy had just caught her red-handed checking him out?
"Oh my world! What must he be thinking of me now? I hope he doesn't think that I'm one of those cheap girls who are foolishly crushing on him? I still have my pride to uphold. He may be sizzling hot, but I will never stoop low for that jerk to take advantage of me. He is so not my type," Ayanate protested mentally in denial.
Voices in her head screamed back their reply, "Liar, liar, liar! You're the one who isn't his type."
She covered her ears with her palms, trying to drown out their taunting and ugly voices. As if that would help. The voices rang from inside her.
"Oh, but why is that stupid girl dating him? That ugly, fat girl! Why did she have to be the privileged one? That wench!"
Feeling suddenly ashamed for her horrendous thoughts, she repented. "Oh, God, forgive me for calling someone foul names. I just can't help it. That Mary girl is a con."
Before she could finish crying out that prayer, the voices started spilling their vile words in her head.
"You want to know why he is not dating you? You want to know why he is in love with the Head Girl and not you? You want to know why he would never admire someone like you regardless of your beautiful singing voice and talent?"
She gulped, knowing what would come.
"Well, that is because you are a simple Arts and Humanities student while the Head Girl is a Science student. It is also because you are a Pentecostal, which invariably translates to the fact that you're too fanatical a Christian for him to come close to."
Yes, that last accusation was the plain truth. She was a Christian who took her spiritual conviction seriously. But the Head Boy? Munachim was also a Christian, only that he was one of those who went to church for going's sake.
No doubt, Ayanate was a super-talented singer whose melodious voice could easily melt an ogre's heart, yet, she didn't see herself as one of much worth all because she wasn't as curvy, as smooth and light-complexioned, nor as gorgeous-faced as Mary, the Head Girl. A few brave male admirers had asked her out, but she declined every single one of them because her heart was with another who didn't notice her. A perfect case of unrequited love.
The school bell finally chimed and she snapped back from her thoughts that were almost swallowing her into its dark, cyclic chasm.
It was time for the students to enter into the exam hall, but not without undergoing a thorough search by the invigilators for any incriminating material banned by the examining body, West African Examination Council (WAEC).
Before her turn came to enter the exam hall, she noticed that the sun was beginning to go down and the cloud was getting darker as though it was about to rain heavily.
But there was something strange, discomforting even, about the weather. It was hot, as usual, and she could feel the clamminess of her armpits and palms. Everywhere was getting dark, but she couldn't feel the cold breeze that normally heralded rainfall.
She hoped she was alright.
Could it be symptoms of Malaria? Well, if it was, she would deal with it later. Now was the time to concentrate on her final paper.
The clouds kept growing darker and she still felt the hot sensation. Surely she wasn't the only one experiencing this. Nobody was saying anything about it so she decided to also keep quiet. She hoped and prayed that whatever the weather was up to, there wouldn't be a serious downpour. That would mean getting home late and possibly drenched to her bones.
She finally entered the hall and slowly pressed her way to her seat number. Students were also doing the same, and she could see the foggy outlines of their figures.
She was really struggling to see far. She hoped the light bulb would be turned on because the students could definitely not write their papers in the dark.
The hall was hushed as the unsmiling examiner entered with the students' question paper. Since their WASSCE started three months ago, this was one of the head invigilators who always walked into the exam hall with a strong, scowling face like a stone statue as if to say, "I am the tyrant of this jungle. Who would dare to cross my path?"
Bam! The sound of a large palm striking a plastic desk filled the hall.
Startled, Ayanate jerked abruptly. One of the invigilators had angrily slammed a question and answer sheet on her table and stormed away to the next student.
She was confused at that strange reaction from the invigilator. How come she hadn't seen the invigilator approaching her table when she did? How possible was it that the woman could move around without any light to illuminate her path?
She knew it was because she hadn't seen the invigilator handing out the question paper to her and hadn't collected it fast, as she should have, that the woman had angrily slammed it on her desk and stalked over to the next student. But it wasn't her fault. The weather was dark and she had honestly not seen the invigilator.
She could barely see her hands in front of her, but she could hear the voices and the sounds from the footsteps of the invigilators as they moved to and fro in the dark. Were they using night vision goggles? Even if they were using it, shouldn't they be considerate enough to turn on the lights so that the students would be able to write their exams?
Ayanate's seat partner, Lizzy, who had been observing her strange behavior—the squinting, the widened eyeballs, the darting of her face all around—gently tapped her.
"Why are you not writing, Ayanate? All the students have started," the dark-skinned girl whispered in haste.
Ayanate faced her blurry seatmate and frowned. "What do you mean by 'everybody has started writing? How is anyone able to write in the dark?"
Lizzy looked at her with an odd expression. "What are you talking about? Have you turned blind? Can't you see the hot sun that is shining through the window? Can't you feel the hot weather?"
Ayanate felt angry and insulted by that question. "What are you saying? Can't you see that everywhere is dark? I can hardly see you and you're asking if I'm blind!"
Lizzy's eyes widened as a sudden thought sprung up in her head. No, this wasn't happening!
Frantic and not wanting to jump into any dangerous conclusions, she quickly raised up her hand and called the attention of one of the invigilators.
Ayanate remained seated, wondering if something had truly gone wrong with her. Indeed, she could feel the hot weather, and sure, she was still perspiring, but her eyes kept telling her something else. She didn't understand what was going on, so she decided to allow her seatmate to call for the attention of one of the invigilators. Perhaps they were the only ones who could solve the puzzle.
y then, some of the students that overheard the conversation between Ayanate and her seat partner had stopped writing in their answer papers and had begun to look towards the two girls. Whispers filled the hall. The students' minds were already forming the same strange theory in Lizzy's mind, but they couldn't accept it. They wanted it to be confirmed first by the approaching invigilators before they could believe it.
The invigilators confirmed the students' theory, much to Ayanate's shock. That day became one of the most horrible days of Ayanate's life.
The beginning of her darkness.