This is the shocking,unputdownable narrative of Dr Justin Ogoo Nwankwo who spent 81 days in SARS Awkuzu ......
This story is like nothing you have ever read......NOTHING!

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Crossing the Threshold of Death...My Journey to the Nigerian Anambra Abattoir!



While I was a young undergraduate, I held closely to my heart that the Nigerian system was a failure. Like most men of my generation, we knew, saw and believed that unemployment was a cankerworm eating deeply into the fabric of our society. Post school days thought was always inundated with memories of our seniors and ex-copers roaming aroma junction, unizik junction, okpuno road, Emma Nnaemeka axis and predominantly Ifite road.



Most of these guys were first eleven in their departments but now they set up football viewing centers, snooker game centers and 1 photocopier set up attachment. Of course, this was for those who doggedly saved up the then 8,900 naira allowi...for those who could not, sorry was their surname while they posted,reposted and e-mailed their CV to " God Knows When Job vacancies"


On my part, like most other fellows, I believed mine was going to be different. My uncles promised to give me job instanta once I made my 2nd class Upper in an oil firm. Indeed a close ally to my dad came on thé Ève of my departure for final defence and promised me a job in ministry of tourism and culture as soon as I finish my service year...I did my best, I smashed my result but all of the above was empty promises offered to a promising young man in an empty unemployment infected society. Perhaps as you read my story...you had or you currently believe in lofty promises...cave ne cadas.


I searched through for a job while registering for my masters and through to my Doctorate Programme yet that ideal perfect good paying job refused to come. I tried travelling abroad after my masters but the tales of the folks returning from abroad was ambivalent...while some said it was full of opportunities others advised to keep faith that once a good job comes around in Nigeria then you are better off! I kept faith and continued my sojourn into the academics nay with hustling to suffice!


On 28th of November, 2012, I got a job to manage a hotel inside the heart of Onitsha owned by Chief Bonaventure Mokwe-Dikeh It was Upper Class Hotel. With the payment very close to an average, giving me time to attend seminars,conferences and publish my dissertation materials, I felt I had a better combination of work and study. I carried on and came very close to becoming an "academic general" until tragedy struck.


1st of August, 2013 was the day I died.


Every other movement my limbs and heart makes is a benevolence of the 2nd degree from God. On that fateful morning, I slept in my accommodation unit in the hotel and still had my laptop, apple I-Pad, new set of Globalization and African Economy series by Lassana Keita ordered from Jumia.com all wide open in my desk. I just dropped off the call of my Supervisor Prof. Maduabuchi Dukor and walking through the stairs only to hear shouts of move it...move it, eeh hands up from the bar section of the hotel.



I quickly but with panic looked at my Nokia torch phone display time and it was 7.38am. Who could be disturbing the peace of a hotel by this time.. Perhaps one or two of my staff have suddenly decided to taste their brows after some round of bottles I declared for them last night for job well done in the month of July. Still wriggling with the thought upon a pair of boxers and singlet... I heard heavy footsteps ascending the stairs and in a twinkle I was face to face with "edom"...police men numbering twenties with rifles halted me and I promptly introduced myself as the manager with a polished ascent thinking that was a routine police visit.


They took to me to the Directors office Chief Bonaventure Mokwe and demanded immediate search of the hotel. We obliged them but carelessly one of the officers said as we left the Director's office


" Let's begin with Room 102"

How could he have known the numbering pattern of the hotel? Why that haste?

But he was quickly overruled by the team leader" Search everywhere"


The search under 5mins landed in the 1st Floor of the 3 storied building and I kept insisting that all the rooms at such hour 7:38am had guests in it. I insisted further that we have submitted manifest to SCID but I was on another story telling to what these butchers came to accomplish.


The next 25mins of stage managed search and display of dry decaying human skulls and 2 rifles with bullets benumbed me. My active brain freezed and travelled on a temporary holiday of tabularaza! The worst has happened and the night have suddenly decided to replace the noonday!

Shouts of ritualist!!


Hey...hoi...Jesus, Satan rented from the gathering mob! Kill them, kill them, stone them, stone them increased more in volume while the police led us all out staff and lodgers in a single file to an awaiting black maria. Displayed and feasted upon by the journalist...we were locked up in that small black maria...16 of us and that was where our journey to the Nazi Camp began.

Trapped in that van of 5 seaters, the 16 of us chuckled each other tightly that there was no notice of male and female. We remained there from 9.40am till 3.50 or so pm when the door was opened at Awkuzu SARS. Meanwhile, our sweat filled half of the van because there no motion except while we were driven to SARS.

Emeka, Uche and one other customer lodger fainted and resuscitation meant extra more faints... We simply adapted and waited upon the lord! Let me pause and attend to my door bell...the tales of Awkuzu SARS( The Nigerian Abattoir) shall follow suit.


81 days that's what I spent in that Abattoir !


I rose from the ranks as we grew from undertakers who carried wounded and butchered inmates from the torture hall to the police van or cell either for corpse disposal or for abandonment in the cell!


I rose in my days to the rank of Cell 4 Boss! I brought ingenuity to my cell! I introduced rationed Nylons and rationed tissues inside each nylon for defecation which of course was class from the usage of cartons and newspapers. While we awaited our turn for the " travel" which is the acronym for " killing" at Awkuzu Sars, we at least held the brotherhood of the cell mates to heart! Those who have no body visiting them , we joined in the evening ration with buying extra fufu by the close of each day to mix up with the garri and fufu of those who have registered for food. By this, every cell mate will at least have one ration for the night before the midnight movement of inmates resume


The Night comes with the Question;


Who will be the next to Fire? You or me!


‘I arrived Awkuzu SARS on the 1st day of August, 2013 with My boss Chief Bonaventure Mokwe-Dikeh in a weakened body after 6hrs lock up in the black Maria with 12 other staff of Upper Class Hotel. I have kept my mind alert refusing to faint or collapse in the van. Yet upon arrival, I could read the bold inscriptions on the wall of that Abattoir camp which reads...


" Well come to hell fire"


I quickly told myself that we are in for the worst.


I have heard the tales of this abattoir. I always thought and believed that it was the land of mongrels and that it was absolutely reserved for hardened criminals until I arrived!


But No...I was mistaken! It was a center for butchering both the innocent and the guilty! A theatre of human death and sale of human parts.


Remind me , I shall tell you about the doctor always on white flowing agbada in Awkuzu Sars who comes to treat gun shots and his expertise in negotiating human parts!


Marshalled straight by the almighty O.C SARS to an open rickety hall upon our arrival : all other victims were separated, each to his or her own fate.

Torture in the Abattoir: Perspective and insights into it ( Only the lucky survives)



Standing by one end was a police officer with two suspects who were chained together and tempo of the interrogation was getting higher. Momentarily forgetting my own ordeal...I kept a gaze on all corners of the hall abandoned with an ominous look of a 2nd world war torture camp.


Ropes were streaming down from ceiling tops, bags of sand were elevated on perimeter wall fence of the hall and all types of rod and metal varying in shape, length and size was starring at you while you hear shouts of people from the back of the hall screaming the name of their late great grandmothers to come and intercede on their behalf.


Buckets of water are standby in case one faints or opts to die before appending signature to already written statements. I was still taking the mein of the entire facility when I was jolted back to reality by the sound of a rapid military rifle...tem tem tem!!!!!.


You no wan talk...you wan follow am go, you wan travel!!! were the words resonating from the other end of the hall. I tried looking but slaps from my I.P.O...Investigating Police Officer reminded me that I was not in this camp for Excursion or Tourism.


...That guy don travel oooo ..said my IPO.So make you tell me the truth otherwise I go travel you were the words from the officer.


Meanwhile, the O.C Sars, the 2aice (2nd in command) and about 4 other police officers started asking me questions ranging from personal to family to academic background questions


...when I got to the level that I was a PhD student, the questions ceased and the O.C shouted ...Mr. Tell us what happened or in his Abakaliki ascent...ma agbajisie gu ukpa la abo (shoot your two legs). I started my story of what happened but that was not what they wanted to hear. The questions were already made and I must be categorical in my answers


...Your director kills people...No Sir I retorted!


And the torture started properly... Make him talk( ordered the OC James Nwafor) before he went to supervise the torture of Chief Bonaventure Mokwe at the back of the hall)


Ropes were tied by my two hands...by the two legs, then both leg and hand bended and tied together with a rod passing through in between them and then elevated to a perimeter wall.


In fact, if you have watched a goat prepared for barbecue of suya night then you are close to the picture.


At the turn of each question and non compliance, a bag of sand is added at my back to add extra pain. Cries upon wails until you pass out. Ooh you want to die...common Justin death is far removed! A cold bucket of water quickly spoils your trance and brings you back to reality.


From minutes to hours, the torture lasted ontop of the beam. In the cell ,we call it " Hanging" The boss of the cell will always differentiate " ndi agbara"hanging with others because you will be laid flat at the cell for at least 3 days before your joints starts to heal.


The " hanging" never stops until finally you start saying that you killed Ibrahim Babangida so that you can be brought down meanwhile Babangida is alive.


From hanging on the beam, tying of rope in a strangulation mode around the neck, Inserting of pin and rope inside the penis to shooting of bullets in a circular fashion around increasing the tempo of the questions at each turn, one is immersed into a theatre of pain and your pre written statements a product of individual pain threshold. In the midst of my torture, I opted to set forth at dawn...dragging myself to crossover the thresholds of deaths but they were Anthills in the Savannah.


On his part Bonaventure Mokwe was undergoing his own routine hanging and strangulation and his shouts of nne mooo, nne moooo, nne moooo !!!!! was re-vibrating from the back of the hall!


I will kill you and nothing will happen...were consistently echoing from the Chief Butcher James Nwafor! But at this point, everybody was carrying his own cross... nothing I could do to help the old man but to soak my own pain without giving up the ghosts!


The gods were wise! Around 8pm that night, I was unconsciously taken into Cell 5. I came to know the real essence of that cell days later.


Cursed with five cells at that Bay...some are better than the others. Cell 5 is the worst because it is tagged "Condemned cell". If you happen to be there, then you are not in Awkuzu SARS because that cell for them does not exist.


High profile criminals caught with military rifles are kept there awaiting execution and because our case had all the above element...I smelled the cell for 6hrs and was transferred out in the morning of next day while the director remained there till the 5th of August. From cell 5 I moved to Cell1 and to cell 4 where I rotted away without taking bath or brush, defecting in a nylon polythene and not seeing the light of day for 81days!


Cell 4 and Cell 3 in Awkuzu Sara are dark cell! No light, no ventilation and no windows! Completely dark from morning to evening! People who are tortured return back with ambulance services performed by inmates since you can neither walk, move or shift any part of your body ....the demand for water is the case consistently but no one gives you!

Your Cell boss knows the implications of giving you water and so brotherhood of men is preserved for it transcends the sovereignty of nations!


Cell mates die from suffocations!
Cell mates die from torture effect!
Cell mates die from gun shot wounds unattended!
Cell mates die from trauma!
Cell mates are summarily pulled out and executed in the middle of the night!!!

Akwuzu Sars was a theater of death! An abattoir!


Dying in the cell is a normal occurrence and the ambulance duty each morning is to take them to the back yard for the diabolic looking doctor to confirm!


Cell 4 and 3 were total black out cells filled with the stench of inmates purportedly caught with locally and kidnapping cases.


In my days at Guantanamo bay...I rekindled my pastoral skills and led the two twin cell of 3 &4 in morning, afternoon and night devotions. Sleeping was with one eye open because gunshots fill the air at all times and people are summarily judged through the barrel of a gun. Answering your name at odd hours is risky and mention of your name reminds of the ambulance job we do each day for fallen comrades.


A room of not more than 2 Square size packed up by 29 to 31 suspect


...heat kills,
hunger kills,
mental switch on and off kills
...and police bullets does the rest.


Who will be the next to fire?


At the abattoir, talks of going to court is freedom itself and remanding one in prison custody was answering of prayers from God.


Every day we waited for our turn...singing to the Almighty... Abraham Blessing are mine!

He delivered Paul and Silas!!!!!To the government of my country...


Awkuzu SARS activity was legitimatized and was acceptable by the Government of the Day!


#ENDSARSNOW
#EndSWAT
#ArrestJamesNwafor
#justiceforupperclasshotel

Face of the murderer James nwafor and one of his crimes

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Damn

Is this a movie script?

Or11:
Is this a movie script?

Real life o. Who didn't know about upper class hotel story then.

Who was the governor during this period of cruelty by the Akwuzu SARS

Brainet4545:


Real life o. Who didn't know about upper class hotel story then.

Never heard of it. The story is really heart breaking.

Face of CSP James Nwafor...the killer Sars Boss. Beside his pix is one of his deeds..

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This is a very horrible story may GOD hear our cry and deliver this country from evil.

they suppose don delete this man since!!!!

People are just evil. And this man will shield his own children from anything that can harm them.

Brainet4545:
Face of CSP James Nwafor...the killer Sars Boss. Beside his pix is one of his deeds..

ahh, this is disheartening.

And Igbo people left this devil to be killing their children? This man ought to go through the same torture he subjected people to. I have this believe that the present governor is even a benefactor from the things he was harvesting. How can a sane person make a murderer a Special Adviser? This revelation just made me hate Willy.. They are birds of a feather.. The Governor should be made to bring this demon out,he should know where he is hiding.. Don't be surprised ,the governor might even be keeping him in his house..
#OccupyGovtHouse#
#BringJamesNwaforOut#

This is shocking...
Peter Obi demolished this hotel, call him out..
Obiano knows this man too well yet appointed him. lets call them out.
Amnesty international has a 26page documents detailing the deeds of this killer group..

With the power vested in me as a son of God & Man.
I curse you james nwafor and all those who participated in the abrupt end of another person's life, mothers bacame chikdless, wifes became widows.

May your life and that of your children/children's children remain desolate and undone...
May You all loose favour in the sight of both God and man.

No living or dead thing, shall break this curse...

and shall it be....

I heard also that the government is complicit too

The governor during this period should be called out.
This story needs to be on front page too.

forget sars most police men in Nigeria are pure evil, most of them are more wicked than the devil

Brainet4545:
Torture in the Abattoir: Perspective and insights into it ( Only the lucky survives)



Standing by one end was a police officer with two suspects who were chained together and tempo of the interrogation was getting higher. Momentarily forgetting my own ordeal...I kept a gaze on all corners of the hall abandoned with an ominous look of a 2nd world war torture camp.


Ropes were streaming down from ceiling tops, bags of sand were elevated on perimeter wall fence of the hall and all types of rod and metal varying in shape, length and size was starring at you while you hear shouts of people from the back of the hall screaming the name of their late great grandmothers to come and intercede on their behalf.


Buckets of water are standby in case one faints or opts to die before appending signature to already written statements. I was still taking the mein of the entire facility when I was jolted back to reality by the sound of a rapid military rifle...tem tem tem!!!!!.


You no wan talk...you wan follow am go, you wan travel!!! were the words resonating from the other end of the hall. I tried looking but slaps from my I.P.O...Investigating Police Officer reminded me that I was not in this camp for Excursion or Tourism.


...That guy don travel oooo ..said my IPO.So make you tell me the truth otherwise I go travel you were the words from the officer.


Meanwhile, the O.C Sars, the 2aice (2nd in command) and about 4 other police officers started asking me questions ranging from personal to family to academic background questions


...when I got to the level that I was a PhD student, the questions ceased and the O.C shouted ...Mr. Tell us what happened or in his Abakaliki ascent...ma agbajisie gu ukpa la abo (shoot your two legs). I started my story of what happened but that was not what they wanted to hear. The questions were already made and I must be categorical in my answers


...Your director kills people...No Sir I retorted!


And the torture started properly... Make him talk( ordered the OC James Nwafor) before he went to supervise the torture of Chief Bonaventure Mokwe at the back of the hall)


Ropes were tied by my two hands...by the two legs, then both leg and hand bended and tied together with a rod passing through in between them and then elevated to a perimeter wall.


In fact, if you have watched a goat prepared for barbecue of suya night then you are close to the picture.


At the turn of each question and non compliance, a bag of sand is added at my back to add extra pain. Cries upon wails until you pass out. Ooh you want to die...common Justin death is far removed! A cold bucket of water quickly spoils your trance and brings you back to reality.


From minutes to hours, the torture lasted ontop of the beam. In the cell ,we call it " Hanging" The boss of the cell will always differentiate " ndi agbara"hanging with others because you will be laid flat at the cell for at least 3 days before your joints starts to heal.


The " hanging" never stops until finally you start saying that you killed Ibrahim Babangida so that you can be brought down meanwhile Babangida is alive.


From hanging on the beam, tying of rope in a strangulation mode around the neck, Inserting of pin and rope inside the penis to shooting of bullets in a circular fashion around increasing the tempo of the questions at each turn, one is immersed into a theatre of pain and your pre written statements a product of individual pain threshold. In the midst of my torture, I opted to set forth at dawn...dragging myself to crossover the thresholds of deaths but they were Anthills in the Savannah.


On his part Bonaventure Mokwe was undergoing his own routine hanging and strangulation and his shouts of nne mooo, nne moooo, nne moooo !!!!! was re-vibrating from the back of the hall!


I will kill you and nothing will happen...were consistently echoing from the Chief Butcher James Nwafor! But at this point, everybody was carrying his own cross... nothing I could do to help the old man but to soak my own pain without giving up the ghosts!


The gods were wise! Around 8pm that night, I was unconsciously taken into Cell 5. I came to know the real essence of that cell days later.


Cursed with five cells at that Bay...some are better than the others. Cell 5 is the worst because it is tagged "Condemned cell". If you happen to be there, then you are not in Awkuzu SARS because that cell for them does not exist.


High profile criminals caught with military rifles are kept there awaiting execution and because our case had all the above element...I smelled the cell for 6hrs and was transferred out in the morning of next day while the director remained there till the 5th of August. From cell 5 I moved to Cell1 and to cell 4 where I rotted away without taking bath or brush, defecting in a nylon polythene and not seeing the light of day for 81days!


Cell 4 and Cell 3 in Awkuzu Sara are dark cell! No light, no ventilation and no windows! Completely dark from morning to evening! People who are tortured return back with ambulance services performed by inmates since you can neither walk, move or shift any part of your body ....the demand for water is the case consistently but no one gives you!

Your Cell boss knows the implications of giving you water and so brotherhood of men is preserved for it transcends the sovereignty of nations!


Cell mates die from suffocations!
Cell mates die from torture effect!
Cell mates die from gun shot wounds unattended!
Cell mates die from trauma!
Cell mates are summarily pulled out and executed in the middle of the night!!!

I hope the day of reckoning has finally come for those involved and they cannot run away from it.

We never get their time, we have serious matters to tend to.

Please youth around akpazu or wetin una dey call your town.. una go Nwafor house, and ya'll return like that seeing he already flee?


I'm pleading with ya'll... go back to that house with kegs of petrol.. burn everything down..

even soun of ogbomosho wey go lose guard for where niggas dey, Dem almost razed down his palace..
We Yoruba Demon no dey play..

Igbos make una vibe up.. return to that house and set everything ablaze.

I for say make una do same to that station too, but I realized innocent people go still dey there.. but whichever way.. Change tag to #killNwafor #Destroy All im property.

the reason why the protest is still on is because the government doesn't know who to call. the protest has no face

Naira Marley wanted to start a protest... after discussing with the government, he cowardice

Davido joined the protest, after police invitation, he did not only cowardice but also denied ever joining the protest

Now the protest has no face... so the government doesn't know who to call