Alive Book Publishing

      The Prodigal Renegade

      Copyright © 2019 by Victor Fakunle

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher and author.

      Additional copies may be ordered from the publisher for educational, business, promotional or premium use.

      For information, contact ALIVE Book Publishing at:

      alivebookpublishing.com, or call (925) 837-7303.

      Book Design by Alex Johnson

      ISBN 13

      978-1-63132-069-9

      978-1-63132-070-5 Ebook

      ISBN 10

      1-63132-069-6

      1-63132-070-X Ebook

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2019941293

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

      is available upon request.

      First Edition

      Published in the United States of America by ALIVE Book Publishing

      and ALIVE Publishing Group, imprints of Advanced Publishing LLC

      3200 A Danville Blvd., Suite 204, Alamo, California 94507 alivebookpublishing.com

      PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      I sailed all the way with no reason

      Wondering why the sway, where is my beacon?

      Life seems all against, can this be the entire season?

      Who can deny all the stains, I see a light in the horizon

      Nevertheless, I was a prodigal renegade

      Who knew that would be the reason I got saved

      —Victor Fakunle

      Acknowledgement

      To the ONE who sits on the throne, in whom I live and exist, glory be to His name.

      I would like to dedicate this book to my wonderful wife, Kristie Fakunle who has been by my side for the past eighteen years. I bless God for you in my life. Your love, and dedication to my success cannot be quantified. You are my rock. Thank you for loving me.

      Writing this book has been a wonderful experience. Despite the desire to write, this book would not have been possible except for the love and counsel of my friend, Fidelis Odogbo who encouraged me to take the leap.

      Much appreciation to my sister, Adeyinka Oyebanji who was relentless in her efforts and cheering me on till I finished the book.

      Finally, my gratitude to my parents, my family and friends who have supported me in all my endeavors. God bless you all.

      Chapter One

      JUST BEFORE NOON, HE ARRIVED at Muritala Mohammed International Airport in Lagos. Danny was once again in his homeland, after a ten-year hiatus to the United States. The buildings at the airport were just how Danny remembered them when he was young. Nothing much has changed. The row of houses with rusty water tanks in various colors on roof tops could still be seen a few yards away from the airport. Nostalgia overwhelmed him. As the plane taxied, he glared at the window notwithstanding the ache he felt from the handcuffs connected to his leg chains, since his departure from Pittsburg, Pennsylvania ten hours ago.

      Everyone was eager to get off the plane. They stood and lined up, a learned behavior for men who had been incarcerated for years within a limited space, beckoning to get the next instruction from their task masters. Danny could not wait. He wondered what his dad would look like. Had he gained weight after all these years and how would he be received by the General? He needed some fresh air.

      Danny could hear metal chains and handcuffs pilling up on the floor closer to the cockpit. The U.S. Marshal was a gray-haired white gentleman making sure all deportees exited the plane in a humane and presentable manner, paying respect to the family members waiting at the reception. Danny sighed and thanked God for the marshal. He had seen worse.

      The smell in the airport was familiar. The moldy smell and the lack of great air ventilation system was amplified by the tropical heat. At airport reception, officers from the Nigeria Police and Immigration Service were visibly present to take some of the former inmates to Alagbon. During the roster call, Danny prayed. As a kid, he had heard of the notorious Alagbon Police Station at Ikoyi. Stories of torture, extortion and inhumane treatment of deportees sent chills into his bones. Despite Danny’s experience at Petersburg Prison, he still wondered about his chances of survival in Nigeria. He heard his name called to the Immigration Service with great relief. He was grateful to God.

      When the General arrived at the airport, Danny was delighted. He immediately prostrated.

      “Good afternoon sir,” said Danny avoiding eye contact.

      “Hello Danny. How are you? Are you okay? Sorry for the delay. I got stuck in traffic. Did the officers treat you well?”

      “Yes, they did, sir. I have no complaints.”

      “You look tired. I’m sure you are hungry. Your mum is at home cooking for you. Glad to have you back son.”

      “Me too, dad.”

      It was bright and sunny as they walked towards the car park. Danny stood still for a minute to feel the breeze and muttered beneath his breath, “Free at last”.

      12 YEARS EARLIER…

      Chapter Two

      JUST A FEW WEEKS AFTER DANNY’S SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY, he took a stroll through the estate where his family had lived since he was seven years old. Danny loved the Federal Housing Estate and the Victoria Island neighborhood. The estate was originally built by the Dutch as residential quarters for members of the Nigerian House of Assembly and other senior staffs of the legislative body. It was designated for Senior Staff members of the Nigerian Civil Service. Evelyn worked at the Ministry of Petroleum Resources. Though she was married to the General, she raised Danny and his siblings almost as a single mother. The General was always on postings.

      Every day, Danny would strut though the estate, checking out the beautiful girls chatting on the balconies of the high-rise buildings. He loved the summer holidays, when most of his friends were home from boarding school. One day, he noticed Dexter waving his hands and signaling at him not to come home. Dexter looked worried. He suddenly felt a knot in his stomach. It was the same feeling he had on resumption day at boarding school. Danny hated boarding school. He felt like a prisoner when school was in session. The school was surrounded with guards and high security barbed wires in the middle of the country sides of Kaduna State. The food was terrible. Danny felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Just as it was in boarding school when he did not have a choice and the odds were against him, he decided to take his chances.

      Danny climbed a flight of stairs to the third floor and met Dexter at the entrance to the flat. Dexter’s face spoke of despair, confusion and pity for his elder brother. Dexter was three years younger and a computer savvy introvert.

      “Dad is home and asked of you”, Dexter whispered.