I sat quietly at one corner in the charge room of the Ojo police station, watching with relish as Mr. & Mrs. Onuoha ran from pillar to post trying to stop the recovered exhibits from being moved to the Commissioner’s office in Ikeja. But the DPO and the officer who came from Ikeja to supervise the raid knew better than to put their jobs on the line, and they told them clearly.

Soon, some relatives of Mr. & Mrs. Onuoha arrived. After they had been bailed we were asked to come to Ikeja the following day.

At Oduduwa, Ikeja, we – Mr. Onuoha, his wife and I – sat down with the senior police officers to whom the commissioner had assigned the case. After some remarks by the officers, reminding us that we were all matured and responsible citizens expected to display maturity in everything we were going to say or do, I was given the chance to tell my story.

Holding back nothing, I told the police officers how I went to work as a music teacher at Kristobell Junior Academy; how Mr. Onuoha started owing me salaries until it accumulated to several months; and how he pirated my books. I had brought with me the original copies of my books which I had kept hanging for months like the Sword of Damocles waiting for a perfect moment of retribution.

I told the officers how, in an effort to get him to pay me the money he owed me, I followed Mr. Onuoha to Mile 2 where I convinced him to hand over to me a nylon bag of money he was carrying or risk losing it to area boys. I admitted he gave me the bag of money, and I told them how much I found inside the bag.

ALSO READ: Police investigate after US woman in coma gives birth at care facility

There was no single sound; no interruption or interjection from the police officers or Mr. & Mrs. Onuoha as I painted with words on canvas everything that happened. By the time I finished my story no one said anything. At one point, my voice had caught on some melancholic strain and almost drew tears to my eyes as I narrated how I had labored for the school for years only to be rewarded with seizure of my salaries and sending of hoodlums after me. I guess I threw everyone into deep soul searching. One of the policemen shook his head sadly.

Then, in a husky and emotionally laden voice, the head of the team gave the floor to Mr. Onuoha by saying to him: “Sir, you have heard Mr. Osa.”

Mr. Onuoha stood to his feet. I was stunned when he said “everything he said was true”. He said it with the saddest voice I had ever heard from him.

“I am impressed with him for saying the truth and I will not lie in this matter. What I want to do now is to plead with Mr. Amadi and all of you to allow this matter to be settled here. I would not want it to go beyond this place. I am ready to pay whatever I still owe to him. Whatever it will take, please my brothers. I am not happy that I allowed these things to happen between me and Mr. Osa. He was my very good friend. We used to eat together in my office. Whatever it will cost me, I will pay.”

All eyes turned to me. I fell silent. I had not expected him to surrender so easily like that. I had expected him to put in more fight so that the piracy matter will be decided in the law court. He weakened me with his humility. His wife was pleading with me too.

ALSO READ: Faceoff with Onuoha

“We would like to leave you two for some time so that you can discuss between yourselves. When we come back our next action will be based on whatever you have decided,” the leader of team told us.

As soon as the officers had left the room Mr. Onuoha almost broke down in tears. The wife knelt down. I cannot recall all the barrage of words they poured out to me because I was too embarrassed to take proper note. My heart melted and I hurriedly told them it was enough; that everything had been settled.

I went out and called the officers and told them we have agreed to make peace and settle everything there. We calculated the cost of all the books I supplied to the wife’s bookshop which she sold but did not remit the money to me. We also calculated the salaries he owed me and then deducted it from the money I took from him at Mile 2. I can still remember that all the money amounted to N60, 000.

We went home that day, and returned the following day. Mr. Onuoha also brought my Sony tape recorder which he had seized from me. After I signed some documents the police officers gave me, Mr. Onuoha paid me the money and I walked out of the Oduduwa police station back to our TNT office at Ize Iyamu Street off Billingsway Oregun, Lagos.

When I told my colleagues in the newsroom what I did they berated me, saying I had thrown away a good case that could have made me rich. I shook my head. They did not know the agony I had passed through watching Mrs. Onuoha kneeling down before me and the man, an elder and my former boss, almost shedding tears.

ALSO READ: The day of the Piano teacher

I did not have the liver to hack down a repentant couple who were crying to me for forgiveness. “I am not God,” I told my colleagues, “and no one knows tomorrow. I have also offended people before, and I will continue to offend others. If I had refused to forgive Mr. & Mrs. Onuoha, how could I expect those I will offend to forgive me?”

That was how the story of my epic struggle with Mr. & Mrs. Onuoha ended. Sadly, Mr. Onuoha died some years later. All our struggles, quarrels, envy and strife in this world are vanity upon vanity.

See you next week by God’s grace.