A Terror Officer: He Kills Instead of Protecting

At the heart of Ibadan, one name carried terror — Iku-Sarz.
He wasn’t just a policeman; he was a storm in uniform. Mothers warned their sons about him. Traders hid their sons when they saw his patrol van. To the public, he was the man who kept “criminals” off the street — but behind closed doors, he was a murderer who used his badge to hunt the innocent.

With cold eyes and blood on his hands, Iku-Sarz ruled Ibadan’s streets like a god. He arrested at will, tortured for pleasure, and took bribes from those who could pay for freedom. Those who couldn’t… vanished. Their families wept to deaf ears. The newspapers called him “The Hero of Ibadan.” But the city whispered another name — Death in Uniform.

His arrogance grew with his power. He drank, laughed, and called himself “The Law.” But one night, fate turned. After killing a man returning from America and stealing his money, strange things began to happen — sleepless nights, voices calling his name, shadows moving in his house. His sins had come alive, and the spirits of his victims were coming for him.

When evidence of his crimes surfaced — videos, witness accounts, and corpses — the same government that once praised him turned its back. His colleagues avoided him. His family abandoned him. The people of Ibadan demanded justice. And for the first time, the lion of the police force trembled.

His trial became the talk of the nation — victims’ families crying in court, reporters swarming the building, and the once-mighty Iku-Sarz sitting in chains. His final words were chilling: “I am the law… or I was.”

In prison, he met the ghosts of his past — literally. Haunted by screams, plagued by nightmares, and broken by guilt, he begged for forgiveness too late. When he died in his cell, eyes open in terror, Ibadan rejoiced. The storm was finally over.

But some say his spirit still walks the streets when thunder rolls — a restless reminder that power without conscience always ends in ruin.