It was 23 years ago, in 2001, when Nigeria was still grappling with the aftermath of military rule and the growing pains of democracy. The country had barely recovered from the Y2K panic—a time when doomsday prophets convinced many that the world would come to an abrupt end at the stroke of midnight on December 31, 1999.
Insecurity was one of the biggest challenges of that era, and Nigeria had already seen its fair share of ruthless criminals—Ishola Oyenusi in the Southwest, Lawrence Anini in the South-South, and in the Southeast, a young man called Derico Nwamama rose to infamy, striking fear into the hearts of millions, especially in Anambra State.
His real name was Okwudili Ndiwe, but to the people, he was simply Derico Nwamama—a name that sent chills down the spine of traders, travelers, and even the police. He was only 22 years old when he became the most feared man in the region, ruling the streets of Onitsha with violence, bloodshed, and terror.
The Making of a Monster
Derico did not start out as a cold-blooded killer. Like many street boys in Onitsha, he was a small-time hustler—picking pockets, running errands, and surviving on the fringes of society. But life in the streets has a way of hardening people, and before long, he graduated from petty crimes to something far worse.
At the time, another notorious criminal, Chiejina, controlled Onitsha. If Derico was feared, then Chiejina was a nightmare. He wasn’t just an armed robber; he was a sadist who inflicted pain on people for fun. Stories about his brutality were horrifying—how he once threw a four-month-old baby from a three-story building because the child’s father refused to give him money, and how he forced family members to commit unspeakable acts before killing them.
Derico and Chiejina were allies for a while, a friendship forged during the Umuleri-Aguleri crisis, but like all alliances between men of violence, it did not last.
The Betrayal and the Birth of a Tyrant
In 1999, the Obi of Onitsha, HRH Obi Ofala Okagbue, could no longer sit and watch the city drown in crime. He called on the Ado Youths—a local vigilante group—to help restore order. The youth leaders arranged a meeting with some of the notorious criminals in the city, hoping to negotiate peace. Both Chiejina and Derico attended.
But while the talks were going on, Chiejina refused to back down. Instead, he attacked members of the vigilante group, escalating the violence. The youths saw no other option but to seek help, and they turned to none other than Derico—a betrayal that would change the course of history.
Derico worked with the police and the Ado Youths to set a trap. Chiejina’s gang was raided, and many of his men were arrested. When Chiejina found out that Derico had turned on him, he went straight for revenge. He stormed Derico’s family house and, in a fit of rage, gunned down Derico’s father in cold blood.
That was the final straw.
Derico hunted Chiejina down and found him near Emmanuel Church at Ugwunokpamba Road, Onitsha. Without hesitation, he emptied his bullets into his former friend, ending the reign of one of Nigeria’s most feared criminals. Some say that as he lay dying, Chiejina begged Derico to finish him off instead of handing him over to the police.
Derico obliged.
He then carried Chiejina’s lifeless body in a wheelbarrow and wheeled him to the Isiokwe Police Station in Onitsha. The police cheered and celebrated him as a hero. But they had unknowingly created a bigger monster. The Derico they knew was born the day he killed Chiejina.
The Reign of Terror
With Chiejina out of the way, Derico became the undisputed Emperor of Terror in Anambra State. His operations were brutal and swift—he robbed banks, hijacked buses, and took whatever he wanted. Even the police were helpless against him. He taunted them, sending messages warning them of what he would do next.
No one was safe.
Market traders could not display their goods without fear. Families slept with one eye open. Passengers traveling through Anambra State held their breath, dreading the moment they might hear the sound of gunshots.
His most horrifying act came in December 2000. At the popular Upper Iweka Road in Onitsha, Derico and his gang attacked a luxury bus carrying 59 passengers bound for Lagos. They robbed every single person, and then, in an act of unthinkable cruelty, Derico ordered his men to execute them all—men, women, children. Only four people survived.
At that point, even the Governor of Anambra State, Chinwoke Mbadinuju, knew something had to be done. The police had failed. The people had lost hope.
There was only one solution left: The Bakassi Boys.
The Fall of Derico
The Bakassi Boys were not the regular police force. They were a vigilante group from Aba, known for their brutal and merciless methods. They did not believe in arrests. They did not believe in trials. They only believed in justice—swift and bloody.
In May 2001, the Anambra State Police launched Operation Derico to capture him at all costs. But he was slippery, escaping every attempt to arrest him.
Then, on July 3, 2001, his luck ran out.
Derico was in a commercial bus traveling from Agbor to Onitsha when the Bakassi Boys stopped the vehicle at the Onitsha Bridge Head. Sensing danger, he jumped through the window and tried to run.
But before he could take his first step, a Bakassi Boy swung a cutlass and sliced off his left ear. He was captured.
The mighty Derico, who once laughed in the face of danger, was now trembling and begging for his life.
The Execution of Derico
On July 9, 2001, six days after his capture, the Bakassi Boys paraded him through Onitsha before bringing him to Ochanja Market Junction, the same place where he had spilled so much innocent blood.
A huge crowd gathered, chanting war songs:
“Enyimba Enyi!”
With wounds all over his body, Derico pleaded for his life.
“My name is Okwudili, alias Derico Nwamama. Please don’t kill me. I don’t like evil. It was when I killed Chiejina that people thought I was strong, but I trust the Bakassi Boys. They are stronger. Please, mercy for me!”
But there was no mercy left for him.
In one swift motion, a cutlass sliced through his neck, and his head rolled onto the ground.
The people cheered. The reign of terror was finally over.
A Lesson in Crime and Consequence
Derico Nwamama lived by violence, and in the end, he died by it. His story is a cautionary tale about how power, crime, and betrayal can consume even the most feared men.
For the people of Anambra State, his execution was not just the end of a criminal—it was the end of a nightmare.
