In a recent article, veteran entertainer Charly Boy details his experience with an intruder in his Abuja residence. He also detailed his romance with Nigeria’s masses.
“I remember growing up as a teen in Port Harcourt at number 11 Ohafia street, those were the good old days just before our independence. I was a very playful kid, always rallying around me playmates who were often not in the class of kids that my parents would have loved for me to associate with. My parents, I remember, always frowned at my choice of friends, they wanted me to keep the company of their friends children who also went to very private schools like me but those ones were no fun to be with, I preferred the company and friendship of the drivers and cooks children, they were more free and had no airs about them.
In those days, I always wondered why they didn’t have as many toys as I had, or why they never had their own rooms to themselves. Many years down, I no longer wonder why. After I paid off my parents what I owed them by obtaining a masters degree in communication, I set in motion and activated my dream of becoming an outstanding entertainer by building The CharlyBoy brand. Seven years of hardship, self doubt and obnoxious poverty paid off. My tenacity and consistency made me resolute in the pursuit of my dream. I won against all odds. The brand became a Force. I mingled with all, gave hope to the less privileged, those who suffered injustice, advocated for the rights and respect of entertainers, jumped around with Nigerian students, okada riders, physically challenged, military pensioners, Nigerian widows, I became the voice of the voiceless. I built a cult follower-ship, that made the powers that be, uncomfortable. Even before my career started, I had always known I would pitched my tent with the masses. The Ajebutter crowd had never been my thing! So I was never afraid of living in their mists.
From the CharlyBoy bus stop in Gbagada, to the CharlyBoy boulevard in Abuja, I felt safe living among the people even-though I could afford to live in very exclusive areas. Hummmm I felt untouchable, until… My night of terror!!! You never know how safe you are till your space is violated, until you have been terrorized and traumatized. I had my own 9/11 one fateful night in September 2011 about 11.30pm. The peace of the Punk Palace was shattered. My wife and I were rudely awakened by screaming, shouting, general pandemonium at my gate. I quickly zoomed in my CCTV to see what the commotion was about.
Charly Boy I saw my two security guards trying to contain an intruder who had invaded my residential home. In the confusion that ensured, I picked up one of my automatic pistol and headed to the gate house to see what was going on. Meanwhile I kept hearing the screaming and breaking of glasses. My wife was visibly shaken, I didn’t really know what to make of it but I felt safer with my gun in my hand. As I came face to face with the intruder I heard him chanting ‘Allah Akbar’, it then dawned on me what I was dealing with. One quick look around, I saw the windscreen of all my cars had all been broken by the intruder. There was blood scattered everywhere apparently he had cut the ears of one of my security guards and had stabbed the other in the chest. As I raised my pistol to shoot this motherf**ker, the sound I heard was, click!!!!! I forgot to load that particular gun! By the time I ran upstairs to get my Ak47, the man had escaped leaving my security guards seriously injured. Through out that night all the policemen at the neighborhood police post and I searched all over for the intruder and never found him. Since then I have bought more guns, taught my wife how to shoot and put a disclaimer in front of my house with this signage. WE SHOOT TO KILL. I swear that man would have been my first Kill….”
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