The narrator recounts two house robberies. The first was committed by their neighbor Osita, who entered through the dining‑room window and stole a TV, a VCR, and two music videotapes. The second robbery was carried out by the narrator’s brother, Nnamabia, who while their parents were visiting their grandparents in Mbaise, stole their mother’s gold jewelry. After church, Nnamabia returns home, tells the narrator “We’ve been robbed!” and the house is in disarray; drawers are opened and the mother’s metal trunk is empty. Their father deduces that the window louvers were pulled from the inside and that the thief knew exactly where the jewelry was kept. Nnamabia, trembling, insists he would never “violate” their trust, then disappears for several days before returning gaunt, smelling of beer, and confessing he pawned the jewelry to Hausa traders in Enugu for a low price. Their mother weeps, the father demands a written report of the sale, and Nnamabia, a seventeen‑year‑old with a trimmed beard, complies. The father files the report in his study.

The narrative then expands to describe a wave of petty thefts on the serene Nsukka campus, perpetrated by boys from well‑to‑do families who mimic the likes of Osita. Osita is described as lithe, handsome, and cat‑like, and the community suspects him despite public denials. Nnamabia’s mother’s beauty is noted, and numerous anecdotes illustrate how she frequently shields Nnamabia’s mischief.

Three years later, during Nnamabia’s third university year, a violent cult clash erupts on campus. Four cult members hijack a professor’s red Mercedes, shoot three students, and trigger a curfew. The next morning a security guard informs the family that Nnamabia has been arrested along with other cult boys at a bar. The parents rush to the Enugu police station, bribe officials with money and jollof rice, and are allowed to see Nnamabia in a cell under an umbrella tree. Nnamabia, animated, describes the police hierarchy (“General Abacha”) and how he concealed his money by slipping it into his anus. He recounts his brief release from the cell after singing for the officers, his observations of other inmates, and the fear of “Cell One,” a notorious holding cell where a dead man was displayed. He tells of nightmares about Cell One, the tiny insects that bite inmates, and the grotesque conditions: insufficient sanitation, cramped space, and humiliating punishments.

The family visits nightly for a week, traveling in a Volvo while their mother’s older Peugeot is deemed unsafe. The narrator, frustrated, hurls a stone at the Volvo windshield, cracking it, and stays inside for the day. On the second visit, Nnamabia is subdued, speaking mainly about an elderly man in another cell whose son is missing; the parents react with silent horror to the police’s routine of detaining relatives of suspects. Nnamabia describes the police’s abusive treatment of that old man, including forcing him to undress and parade in the corridor while being mocked.

A second cult attack occurs on campus, prompting the parents to press the Nsukka superintendent for action. They learn that an informant has cleared Nnamabia of cult membership and that he and the barman will be released. On the day of release, the family drives to a remote police compound, encounters a flogging of a different detainee (Aboy), and learns from a policeman that Nnamabia’s “transfer” is due to a misbehavior in Cell One. The policeman leads them to a dilapidated site where Nnamabia is finally returned, bruised, with welts on his left arm and dried blood on his nose. His mother clutches him, demanding why he was beaten. The police dismiss the family’s complaints, blaming parental negligence. The family drives home, passing police checkpoints without incident.

Back in Nsukka, Nnamabia recounts to his mother how the police forced the old man to undress, how he was punished for speaking out, and how he was dragged to Cell One where he was beaten and threatened. He does not reveal what happened after being taken from Cell One, leaving the narrative hanging on the uncertainty of his fate.