Around the time just after my mom died, something strange began to happen. Back in Bethlehem, I would go to sleep and then suddenly wake up, and the clock would be exactly 4:40. This happened so many times, I decided it was time to think deeply what it could mean. When we were little in Nigeria, there was a popular expression we had - “run 440”. not sure what 440 meant, but I assumed it was how fast you are to run. I thought maybe the good spirits are trying to tell me its time to move or run or do something. I connected it with the fact I was now 32 and diddnt have a wife or children. The idea that it was Allentown/Bethlehem that was killing me came and I thought maybe I should move to a city where there is greater chance of meeting a beautiful good woman. I had always figured I was beautiful on the outside and inside so there should be women like that also. I decided to move to Washington DC where two of my cousins live. It would also be more fun being so close to them.
While in DC, suddenly one day we got news that my dad had died in Nigeria. We all went for my dads funeral in Ife (Osun state, Nigeria). Each person made his own plans to fly from wherever they were in America to Lagos. Before I left USA, I met with Enitan in NYC outside the UNICEF offices, where he worked at the time. I wanted to give him a photo of our dad he could use pertaining to the funeral. When he saw me and there was obvious sign of how the twist was affecting my motion, there was a small smile of glee on his face. I did not know how to interprete that so I ignored it. While in NYC, I stayed at my sisters place along with my cousin Wole. I remember I think he (Wole) wanted to go someplace and did not have a car at the time. I told him he can use mine if he wants, but he declined. I had been sensing a lot of antagonism from him that evening and I had no idea why. The next morning is when I was going to the airport for my flight and when I got to my car in the morning, the drivers side window was completely shattered, leaving the car wide open with pieces of glass everywhere. I managed to find a piece of transparent plastic to cover it. Wole continued to act completely annoyed with me but not saying anything, so I put up my own shield of indignation, at what seemed like very unfair judgement and something I did not even know I did. We stayed in Lagos a couple days and Woles attitude continued. I wanted nothing to do with him. Mysteriously my glasses disappeared in the morning and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Luckily I had an older one that was good enough for me to use. One of those days went out unto town to a place they sell suya ( a beef on a stick product popular in Nigeria ). While we were hanging out and eating suya, I saw a very little girl, maybe 5 or 6 years old. She was really pretty, but wearing rags and begging for money. Her mother was close by. I was moved and started going to give her as much money as I could. Suddenly, my cousin Olumide stopped me and slapped the hand I was holding out the money to her with and shouted “DON’T GIVE HER ANYTHING”. I was really confused as nothing like this ever happened before. Also I was unaware of many things in the world so a small part of me said “maybe he knows something I don’t”. I backed away from my own will. I was somewhat angry with myself, but kept my peace. So we proceeded to Ife the next day or so. Something strange/annoying at the funeral, is while people lined up to go by my dads casket, one young man in particular had a big smile on his face, like he was there only for fun. He looked in the coffin and his smile got even wider almost laughing. No one else seemed to notice or look like this is not normal. I kept it inside. During the funeral days, one day we were in my dads house, and my dad had put up different religious symbols, like a cross made of some kind of leaves, and another one that looked like native yoruba (orisha) symbol. Enitan immidiately turned to me and mocked “if one doesn’t work, the other will”. I was horrified at this, mocking the signs that my father was obviously fighting something evil and spiritual with any means that may help. We went to the Theatre department and were taking photos with some of my dads students. While we were posing to take the photo, Wole put his hand behind my head and was making a “peace” sign. I felt he was somehow mocking me, but kept quiet. Among the people we took photos with were papas students. One of them was a girl who told me papa used to call her “Blockhead”. I couldn’t really tell if she was ok with it, or resentful of papa for calling her that. In a way it seemed like a kind of revenge for her, but I may have been reading the situation wrong. What I think it is now is that it was satan within her, who felt triumphant over papas death. I know now that my father was one of satans great enemies. This is substantiated by the fact someone (possessed of satan) wrote an entry in the funeral log book which I discovered much later ( I will tell that story a little further ahead ) “A tyrant in the heat of battle. Finally you have succumbed and lost your war in the end”. Maybe not the exact words but paraphrasing. I’m pretty sure the first sentence is accurate though.
I always used to have a lot of extra money to play with, but around the time of my dads funeral, I had very little money. In fact just enough to buy my ticket there and back. As such I did not contribute to the "pot" of money used for the funeral. I thought my siblings would understand, being that I was always the one who came through with money whenever anyone needed anything. My sister and Kole seemed to understand, as after everything was paid for, the remaining money, they said I should take, so I will have enough while traveling around Nigeria and going back to the USA. I was very reluctant at first, but they finally talked me into it, so I took the money. Because Nigerian money is so devalued, it filled a backpack. Not too long after that, Enitan arrived at the house, very angry. He confronted Kole about money he had put in the "pot" that had not been returned to him. They argued a bit, and then Kole and Enitan went in my dads room to settle the matter. While counting the money to give back to Enitan, Enitans hands started shaking visibly. I was so ashamed of the whole situation. Here we were fighting about little money, after our father had just died. Enitan also turned to me to collect what money was now with me that belonged to him. I gave him the whole bag, saying I did not need it anyway. He refused the whole bag and insisted he wanted only what belonged to him. I said "whatever". He took the bag, and counted some money from it, then gave me the rest. I was really furious at him. He never behaved this way to me before, especially concerning money, which in the past I was always the one giving him freely. After the funeral was over, I went to portharcourt where I had mostly grown up, and one day went to the city with a good friend. We went to some kind of entertainment establishment, and hung out there for quite a while, just eating and drinking and enjoying the atmosphere. After a while, I noticed there were a lot of beautiful ladies in the area, and instead of the men approaching them, they were approaching the guys. Quite a few were white men, expertraits from European countries working in the oil industry which is really big in Portharcourt. I said to my friend, “these girls are prostitutes!”. He immediately replied “just pick one and lets be on our way”. I totally dismissed that and said “lets go now”. I wanted no part of that. Later when we got back to America, my cousin Niyi gave me a copy of the log book of what people wrote about my dad at the funeral. One day I decided to go through it, and most entries seemed normal, except one that said “A tyrant in the heat of battle. Finally you have succumbed and lost your war in the end”. Maybe not the exact words but paraphrasing. I’m pretty sure the first sentence is accurate though. I could hardly believe someone would write such a thing. How brazen. I did not discuss it with anyone. We had kept all my moms things we wanted to keep in my basement, and one day I was going through her things too. I found a letter - officially typed letter, from my cousin Niyi to my mother. The first thing I thought is, why the heck would Niyi be writing a formal official letter to his aunty? I read it and it was devastating. He was talking to her like she was some “neer do well” who wasn’t doing enough to help herself, while he had been trying to help her ( I guess to get a job in a university ). He sounded very judgemental and demeaning to her, I could not believe it. His aunty who is same generation as his mother, talking to her like this. For some reason, I made the mistake of putting the letter back in the envelope and right back where I had found it, thinking I can always get it later. Later in the story after satan attacked me ( around 2006 ), I started to piece some things together and decided to start a folder I called “War crimes”. In it, I wanted 2 documents to start with. First was a hand written letter from my older brother Enitan, where he was full of praise and thanks for me for how I had supported him whenever he needed money and even gave him more than he asked for. This one I still have till this day. The other was the letter Niyi wrote to my mom. I went back to the basement and looked everywhere for it, it had disappeared. Around that time, I had experienced certain things dissapearing, like table tennis balls, once they roll behind some object I cannot see the ball, then when I look behind, it is not there or anywhere else. I had formed the idea that from the spirit world, they can make anything disappear, especially if you are not looking directly at it. I just figured they had made the evidence disappear from the spirit world, so I let it go.
When I returned back to my job in Washington DC, America after my dads funeral. The company was called Osage Systems. It was an IT consulting company and I travelled quite a bit to do mostly Sun Microsystems and Solaris work (hardware and software) at different client sites across the country. One time in very early 2001, I ended up in Las Vegas. The atmosphere was euphoric. I was driving around there was very good music on the radio. I remember in particuler the song “One night in Bangkok”, and it got me really excited. After getting a hotel room I was walking around close to the strip, and I saw so many flyers all over the ground. I picked a few of them up and one in particular caught my eye. The girl was soooo beautiful, and had very large sized natural breasts. This time I could not resist. I thought to myself, I am 33 years old now, never really had good sex in my life, maybe its time to try something before my whole life goes by. I got back to the hotel with the flyer and called the number. The lady appeared not too long after. She was exactly like in the flyer, which I did not expect because they usually show one thing but when the real thing comes, its not up to par. I was half confused with lust. Not thinking straight anymore. I asked the price and it was more than I had on hand ( I think I had maybe one to two hundred, and she was asking about a thousand ). I said I did not expect such a high price. She said “don’t you know this is Las Vegas, there are a lot of very rich men here, and a thousand is really nothing to them”. By this time she was half way sitting/lying at the top of the bed and I saw how sexy especially her bottom area as it connected to her legs which were spread just enough with her knees up enough to raise my lust temperature above anything. I knew this must happen tonight, so I went to the lobby to get more money, while she waited in my room. I got the money and came back to the room. She was not there and I was worried that she had gone, but then a knock at the door, and it was her. I gave her the money. She went into the bathroom for a while and came out ready. She had done something to make her body warm. I did not know then but this is what they call KY warming lotion. It felt sooo good to me. We went ahead and engaged on the bed. I enjoyed myself immensely and took so much time. It must have taken 45 minutes to an hour before I climaxed. She was not happy with that and I asked her “I thought women like when a man lasts long?” I forget her answer but now I know prostitutes in particular just want to get it over as quickly as possible so they can engage the next client. More money. A funny thing I remember while we were having sex I heared a man in another room laughing real hard and loud and I was thinking “sombody laughing at my father, maybe the devil”. When we were finished, I was so enemeard with her, I asked her to come with me and I will take care of every financial need she may have. I was really hoping to marry her, but didn’t mention that because it was too early. She declined and advised me to get a girlfriend. Somehow I knew that was hopeless, because I had been trying for more than a decade. Why else would I resort to a prostitute. How happy I would have been if she agreed. How happy I would have been - in heaven, and I believed very strongly she would be too. That was the only encounter in Las Vegas.
One time Niyi came to visit us in DC, we were out some place, quite a few of us, on the second floor of some big building. It was designed as kind of circuler area with escalator or stairs going down from one section of the circumfrence of the circle. I was standing not far from the stairs/escalator or in front of the window, and Niyi snuck up behind me and with all the force he could muster he grabbed my shorts and tried to pull them down in public. Given the amount of force he used, I was sure my shorts would go all the way down, but they did not budge even one milimeter. I was not aware of spiritual forces then but given my knowledge now, it was definitely God that protected me from his serious attempt at embarrassment, in form of a joke.
Another day while at work, Niyi called on the phone and we were talking, then out of the blue, he said something like “all I know is they have given you and you have eaten. King Biodun soon you will no longer be on the throne”. I had no clue what it meant so I just laughed and continued talking about other things.
My consulting company went bankrupt and I had to move on. My cousin Wole, had a very beautiful girlfriend from Belize. Out of town beautiful, and I liked her personality a lot. She got a whopping job offer in San Diego with chance to become a partner in an immigration law firm ( they were both lawyers and just done with Law School at the American University in DC). Since I had no job now and we were in the days where in the IT field, you could get a very good job in just about any location in the US, I decided to go with them to California. I had heard so much and really wanted to experience California. It was such a joyful time in my life then and I fell in love with San Diego immediately. I got the job instantly on the first open interview I went to. The salary was much higher than I had ever made - $90k per year. It was a nice dream, and I now worked for a military project they called NMCI - Navy Marine Core Intranet. In those days, I still saw the American army as mostly just, and good. I did not have a moral issue working for them. I was the most knowledgable Solaris Sysadmin in the team at Coronado Island. Everyone came to me for answers and I was always very happy.
I started maybe May 2001, and by August or September, they had selected me to go and run the Sun Microsystems/Solaris project in the Engineering team on Sherman street. My immediate boss was a very beautiful woman called Stephanie McCleave. I liked her personality very much even though many of the guys talked badly about her because she was tough. I could tell she liked me a lot too, but it was always just professional. Once we got a girl on the Unix team who just isolated herself, acted like she knew more about Unix than everyone else and never really joined the team. She was breaking the good team spirit and then the last straw was when she started verbally attacking Stephanie. I was really mad at her and told her to leave. I don’t care where she goes, I just wanted her out of there. She took it very badly and I think she complained to her dad who was a higher ranking guy in the military. Anyway, nothing really came of it and she did not come back while I was there. The lead Unix guy I replaced was still there at the time, and everytime Stephanie will tell him to do something, he would refuse and rebel against her. He was kind of arrogant and I could not find much sense in his reasoning not to do those things. I kept quiet and just observed his behaviour with some anger. One day Stephanie asked him to do something and he refused again and she saw I was there and knew my reputation. She immediately asked me to go and do it. I was so full of joy at that moment and ran to the task, which I completed much better than that goat could ever have. She then relieved him of the lead and gave the position to me. Not long after, this former lead was talking with one of his friends. His name is John Robles. He was describing his experience at a brothel in Tijuana, just accross the US border in San Diego, how he was having sex with a prostitute. He is an older man. At that time I was maybe 33 years old and he was well into his fifteys. He claimed he could not get it up, but the prostitute faked and orgasm and gave him a good experience anyway. Then September 11 happened. A month later on halloween, John Robles planned an office outing for the guys only. I always loved to go on these outings to have fun outside of work with my co-workers, so I planned to join them. He did not mention the destination. When we got there, it was a bar. After a while I noticed the same thing as that brothel in Nigeria. Beautiful women approaching men to negotiate. Wow! I’m in a brothel. In those days the world was very normal to me, and there was no real spiritual activity going on. There was no real consequence for engaging with a prostitute. I began to wonder with a bit indignation, why the girls were not coming to me. Not long after that, one of them came to me. She asked me to buy her a beer. I was very happy to. I was sitting down and she sat down very close to me. In about a minute, she put her hand right on my “thing” and it responded immediately. It was up and very strong. I knew immediately, I have to go. I waited to consciously bring it down enough so I could stand up without it showing and then went with her. She took me upstairs and just outside the room I was about to pay her and said “sixteen dollars?” because that is what I thought she had said ( I was very attracted and more motivated by the price ). She frowned and said “no, sixty dollars”. I said “ I thought you said sixteen”. She responded “for fuck?…”. I then shut up and paid her the sixty dollars. By that time my d1ck was still standing and she told me to undress, then she held it and said “ees big deek”. I said “no its not” because I know i’m small, but she shook her head and said “yes it is”. I did not know what to make of it or cared, because I never needed to feel my d1ck was big to enjoy sex. Just give me a beautiful woman and I’m on my way. I know she may not enjoy it as much as I, but I don’t fret over things I have no control over. If it’s love, she will handle it, and if it’s a prostitute, she may even prefer it. We started having sex and I was enjoying it, but taking long as usual, then she made some kind of move like because I’m kinda short there, it allowed me to go deeper. I think like giving me “angle”. I climaxed soon after that. I went back to the bar, and kept looking in amazement at how many really really beautiful girls where available for sex for “free”. I thought I couldn’t believe my luck. I had never seen such beautiful women. You know that mexican beauty with that skin tone… unbelievable. What had I been doing with my life all this time? Then another one came and stood next to where I was sitting again. Some guys around me started saying “touch her… feel her”. I was tempted so I touched her everywhere I was curious about (not the breasts though). It all felt exactly like I had envisioned in my mind. Again I had to go with her. Again I started taking too long for her and she said “es muy espara”. I know enough spanish at that time to know she meant I was taking too long, so I tried to consiously get to the destination faster before she gets mad and leaves me hanging. Luckily that happened. She charged my only $40 and I thought she was even sweeter than the first. So that was two girls in one night and I was still feeling like I could go for more, but I decided to call it quits. Don’t know if this means anything, but I saw one of those military guys from Coronado base that patronize the brothels in Tijuana, hi-fiving John Robles while I was sitting in the bar, haven indulged. Something in my mind was saying they are celebrating “getting” me, but I dissmissed it as not important. I walked around the whole neigborhood of the brothel and there were so many other brothels, and even just outside on the streets and sidewalk, where tons of very beautiful girls and the thought was every one was available for sex. I couldn’t believe such things exist and how lucky I was to discover it now. I remember thinking at one point, “this is me, and this is where I belong”.
After I left the bar that night, I promised myself I would come back and pick the most beautiful girls myself, because the ones I had experienced came to me themselves, I figured there were even more beautiful ones I can go and find myself, so about a week later, I somehow found my way there. I remember the cab driver that was taking me there was telling me there are even better places with far more beautiful women. Anyway, I wanted that very same one and got there. I sat for a while, survailing the place for the most beautiful woman I could find. Finally my eye caught one, I said “this is the one”. I made my way over to where she was standing trying to solicit several men. They all turned her down and I thought “idiots. thank God for that, none of them will steal her away before I get there”. As I got very close, we locked eyes, and it was like a tracktor beam ( in startrek ). I closed in and just held her close, because I knew I was permitted. All I said was “how much”. She said $60 and we were on our way. On the way up the stairs, I caught a sumptous view of her behind, and was thinking “if only the boys could see me now”. I paid for the room and gave her her cut. I completely undressed and I saw a look of compassion in her eyes, when she saw how small I am. We got on the bed and I was still flat, so she gave me a bit of a blow job, which I responded to. she said “me on top?”. I was happy with the idea so she got on top like sitting on me and began to do her thing. After a while I naturally felt like getting on top myself, so we changed and I was going faster and faster for a while, but not climaxing so she said “cum baby”. and soon after I came. We got up and she proceeded to a sink that was placed in a corner for the prostitutes to wash their “area”. she washed and I also went to the sink and washed my area too. We left the room and went our separate ways. I strolled around the brothel a while thinking maybe I can now experience a girl with the biggest boobs I can find. I saw one, but I wanted to pay $40 dollars like with the second girl I enjoyed so much. She refused and I heard her pimps around mocking with indignation “$40 dollars for a girl”. I decided its not worth it to go again, so I left for the night. This decision may just have saved my life for unbeknowst to me I was right at the limit of where satan could now capture me successfully. A great spiritual war maybe decided over $20. could be the only time being cheap was good for me.
The next day I started to think how it seems I have lost my footing somehow in my life, and this really was not me. I thought that I should stop with the prostitution and just try again to find a normal girlfriend. I also considered for the first time that the girls were not doing this of their own free will, but were under some serious duress, and there is no way I can be part of that.
In those days, John Robles kept trying to tempt me with one thing or another. In particular he told me to go and negotiate for a much higher salary. He claimed they where making about $135 and hour, which comes to about 270K a year. I wasn’t sure if I believed him and I had the sense he was just trying to lure me to things I shouldn’t be doing, but I did go and negotiate my salary anyway. They turned me down and I forgot the idea.
I had a colleague in the SA team at NMCI station in Coronado Island. His name was Bill Dakouris, a Greek, who happened to be gay. He kept it hidden, but was obvious to me before too long. One day we were discussing about evil things and he mentioned something concerning my spiritual state like I had entered a dangerous place and asked me “this time did you vomit?”. It did not make much sense to me but today I know the process where they start to pull your spirit to satans side, if you have a chance to drift back to the light, it would involve you vomitting and then eventually your spirit is back, but if you did not vomit, then they pretty much have you, its just a matter of time. I seem to recall after one or two of the prostitute encounters one day I suddenly started vomitting.
Though Bill was gay, I tried not to let it bother me, but a few times, he crossed the line. For instance, once we were walking in the data center, and just before we exited, he said to me "why don't we schwab the deck and finger each other in the ass?". I was so mortified, I could not even respond to that. The awkward silence told him what I felt (I think).
Maybe 2 or 3 weeks after the last prostitute, my cousin who I moved to San Diego with was getting married to his very beautiful girlfriend in Bermuda. I went for the wedding which was great, but immediately I returned to San Diego, I was informed not to come to work again. I had been layed off, or fired. I called my friend, the architect of the project ( Bob Costas ) and he said he had no idea why, but it certainly was not for performance. I called Stephanie and said to confirm if its final so I can start looking for another job. She said its a good idea to start looking, and said something about me giving her sleepless nights. I took the advice and started looking for a new job. I took that incident as a sign that maybe it was a very wrong move to start indulging prostitutes. I also assessed the whole situation and vowed I would never again go to a prostitute. If I can not find a girlfriend, I would just continue to do by myself forever.
After three months, I landed another job at a subsidiary of Home Depot in San Diego, called Maintenance Warehouse (MWH). I was thrilled again because I had never been 3 months without work, or income so I was really getting worried. There was a bit of a red flag at my interview. The man who was to be my manager, Bill Schiraldi met me along with the recruiter from RHI (Robert Half International) in his office and immediately dismissed the recruiter in a slightly rude way, saying he was not comfortable with him being there. I did not make a big deal of it, but it seemed wierd, and I felt bad for the recruiter.
When I started the job, everything looked great, and I was very happy. One of the nights I was asleep at home, sometime close to dawn, a dark spirit came in the place between sleep and awake, where I seem to have no control whatsoever, laying on my back, and with his “thing”, trying to penetrate my "back door". This never happened to me before, and I fought it very hard, until finally I was able to break free and wake myself up. My intuition told me this was now happening because of the prostitutes I had associated with. It was not long after this that I began to wriite my song "Hold me in the dark". Things started to take a turn at work as Bill Schiraldi started to micro-manage seriously. Like he was breathing down my neck. Everything I was doing he would poke his nose into, to tell me how to do it better. He was a stickler for documentation and wanted me to document every single detail of whatever task I was going to do, before I do it. Even very simple things I could do with my eyes closed. Only important thing to me was that I got the job done, not that I was sitting at my desk at all hours of the day. He was not so focused on the productivity, but the look of order. While I was out, he came to my desk and saw I was not there. He now placed some Items on my chair, in order to determine how long I will be out. I came back maybe 3 hours later and removed the things without thinking much of it. He immediately called me into the office to ask why I was away for so long and gave his evidence of the things he placed on my chair. I thought "how petty". Many times when he would call me into the office, while talking to me, he would hang his mouth open and begin rolling his toungue around in front of me. I complained about this to his boss, and his boss scolded him a bit, and he got really mad at me. Then the part I wrote in my website, he would call me into his office, and we would discuss a bit and at a point while I’m talking to him, he would begin to wink at me. It was not a sexually suggestive wink, but rather like he knows me from a very long time ago that I cannot remember anymore. At the moment he is winking, the flourecent lights in the office would start blinking off and on. I played it off like I did not notice. One time he was chastising me for something or other and mentioned “I have a file on you this thick…(indicating with his hands how thick)”. Amazing I thought to myself. How can anyone be so small minded. One day I was at the docking area where we received computer equipment we had ordered, and he saw me there and said the docking area was kind of dirty, that I should get a broom and sweep it. I thought it was an odd request for an engineer to begin sweeping, but I figured whatever, if they are paying me $40 an hour to sweep a dock, I’ll do it. In those days, when I annoyed him he would refer to me as a common technician. One day, I forget what happened, but he suddenly said to me “I will start treating you like everyone else”. In my mind I was thinking maybe its God, who has been treating me so well all my life, and now I am disappointing to the extent he would now categorize me in the group he doesn’t care for. And to be honest, he treated everybody very bad. I was told when I started that the SA I replaced who had rebelled against them made the comment “I can never work for Bill Schiraldi”. At first when I heard it I figured it was unfair judgement of Bill and I should give a chance and see for myself if I would have the same feeling. Yes, it was not too long I came to the same conclusion.
In those days still, I had a lot of hope that my singing voice would come back. I used to love to take long drives in my nissan Maxima, which had a very good sound system. I would play either ABBA, Sade or a CD I had purchased in the 90s, containing love songs. On these long drives, I would just sing to the music, it was always so much fun and enjoyment for me.
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