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CHRONICLES OF A RUNS GIRL— A Crime Thriller Series Episode One

Deòlu was tired of poverty. Born and raised in Ìlorin, she had known suffering all her life. Her father was a bricklayer who worked under the scorching sun for daily pay, and her mother sold roasted corn by the roadside. Feeding was a struggle, and school fees were a luxury. The streets had taught her one thing—if you wanted a good life, you had to grab it with both hands. So when her childhood friend, Teni, invited her to Lagos, promising her “soft life,” she didn’t think twice. “Lagos no be your village,” Teni had laughed over the phone. “If you sabi package, you go blow.” Deòlu packed her few belongings—just a small Ghana-Must-Go bag filled with second-hand clothes and cheap perfume—and boarded a night bus to Lagos. The city was a monster, but she was ready. Apapa Hustle Begins Teni lived in a cramped one-room apartment in Apapa, close to the port. The air smelled of fish and sea salt, and the streets were always busy, filled with truck drivers, market women, and men with wandering ...

CHRONICLES OF A RUNS GIRL — A Crime Thriller Series Episode Seven

 




The sirens wailed through the empty streets of Ikoyi as Deòlu sat in the back of the police van, her wrists bound behind her. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows on her face, but she remained calm. Silent.

The officers in the front seats kept their voices low, but she could hear them.

“Big girl don enter trouble,” one muttered.

“She think say money go always save am,” the other replied with a chuckle. “This one pass money.”

Deòlu smirked. They didn’t know who they were dealing with.

The van pulled up at the station, and the moment they dragged her out, whispers filled the air. Officers stopped to stare, some shaking their heads, some watching with curiosity. It wasn’t every day that someone like Deòlu got arrested.

She was shoved into an interrogation room, the cold chair digging into her back as she sat, her wrists still tied.

Then the questioning began.

The officer across from her leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Madam,” he drawled, “this one no be social media lifestyle. You don finally jam real wahala.”

Deòlu said nothing.

The officer smirked. “You think say you go call one big man and e go end? This one na murder case. No politician fit—”

The door burst open.

A senior officer rushed in, his face tight with tension. He whispered something to the interrogating officer, and instantly, the smirk vanished.

Deòlu raised a brow.

Something had changed.

**

Across the city, in a heavily guarded mansion, a phone rang. The politician picked up, already expecting the call.

The Commissioner’s voice came through. “Deòlu has been arrested.”

The politician sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Who approved it?”

“One of my men. He didn’t know.”

A heavy silence stretched between them.

“She’s too useful,” the politician finally said. “We need her. That girl knows how to move money, and right now, we can’t afford to lose her.”

The Commissioner nodded on the other end. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” the politician snapped. “Listen carefully. You clear this mess. Completely. Everyone involved—Baba Kòfó, the girl, the assassins. No trace. No evidence. And Deòlu walks free.”

The Commissioner swallowed. “Consider it done.”

**

Back at the station, Deòlu was still seated when the officer returned, his expression unreadable.

She tilted her head. “So, am I free to go?”

The officer clenched his jaw but said nothing as he unlocked her cuffs.

Deòlu stood, smoothing her dress, a small smile playing on her lips.

Just like that, she was untouchable again.

**

That night, the cleanup began.

Baba Kòfó never saw them coming. One moment, he was in his shrine, preparing for a ritual. The next, he was on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling as the flames consumed everything around him.

Teni didn’t stand a chance. She was dragged from her apartment, her screams swallowed by the night. By dawn, her body floated in the lagoon, unrecognizable.

The assassins were wiped out, their bodies buried in places no one would ever find.

Deòlu’s sins had been erased.

She was free.

And now, she owed them.



Read Episode Eight here

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