When he left the Ministry of Works premises after work on the evening of January 12, 2004, Emeka was totally clueless as to what fate had in store for him. He had worked overtime that day, as he had the entire week.
The Abia State Commissioner of Works, under whom he worked, had issued all the staff in his employ an ultimatum to get the Ministry’s budget ready before the end of the week and characteristically, Emeka was determined to finish the quota of the work assigned to him before others. It was exactly 7:13 pm when he turned the keys to the lock the building.
Just as he stepped out of the building, a Police patrol SUV screeched abruptly to a stop right in front of the building. That’s odd, Emeka thought. It was way past close of work, nobody was supposed to be in the premises. So who could they be looking for? He asked himself.
Suddenly, just like it happens in the movies, all the four doors of the van opened simultaneously, and four policemen alighted. They were all dressed in mobile police uniforms, each armed with a Soviet made AK-47 assault rifle, the sort that fire a short case 7.62mm cartridge and hold six rounds each, all doubled up with duct tape. They all moved toward him with intent.
“Emeka Okorie?” One called.
Emeka was baffled. How did they know my name? Is there any problem? He thought.
“Get on your knees!” another barked with an Hausa accent.
“Excuse me?” Emeka asked incredulously.
“Kai I said get on your knees.” He repeated the command and soon followed it up with a slap.
As Emeka sank to his knees, dumb with fear, he wandered whether this was an arrest or a kidnap.
A minute later, he was whisked into the back of the Van and the driver sped off.
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