Baada Ka was born to Dembe and Kizza Ka during a time of peace, but he was raised in war. When he was only three years-old, he was forced to be smuggled through numerous villages after an attack was waged on his own by a rival tribe to avoid being killed. He was not reacquainted with his father until he was seven, and at that point, his mother had been killed and his father was not the man he was before. What was supposed to be a peaceful, happily ever after for Kizza, turned in to a life of perpetual warfare to fill the empty void the death of his wife left behind. Before long, Baada Ka was trained to be a child soldier in his fathers guerrilla regime.
As Baada Ka grew in to adulthood, his father, Kizza, grew old, and sickness swept over him like a high tide on the beach.
Baada took his father to the coast of Angola, and with him 2 dozen of his fathers best men, where they boarded a boat no bigger than a large tug-boat, to sail to the Americas; where his father wished to be laid to rest. Somewhere along the expedition north west towards the Floridian coast, they encountered a storm that seemed to epitomize the wrath of Poseidon himself. Some of the ship's crew were lost to the storm. The rest, tired and beaten. But Baada Ka's men were no strangers to the sea - and saw this as an opportunity. As the storm came to a calm, Baada and the rest of his men began a hostile take over with his sickly father, conscious yet weak, giving the order.
13 men sat on their knees with their hands on their heads at the back of the main deck, and in the middle of them all, the Captain.
"What is yours is now ours. And what is ours, we will not share." Baada Ka declared.
"Shoot the mothafuckas." he commanded, as 2 of his men armed with .22 caliber pistols, executed each of the crew one by one.
At the end of it all, Baada went to console his father, and when the night came, Kizza had passed peacefully.
That night, they left Kizza's body in a makeshift bed in the bow of the boat while more than half of Baada's regime rested in the same room. One soldier was still dumping the bodies overboard. After tossing about half a dozen of the bodies over, he reached over to grab another, only to realize their eyes were wide open, their veins were discolored and their mouth was slightly moving. "Oi!" he exclaimed out loud, and shortly after, a scream.
His screams were not the last. Many songs were sung to Poseidon that night in the form of terror and agony.
Baada found himself on the front of the boats deck the next morning, covered in blood, carrying the head of his father; whom was deceased, yet still animated. The rest of his men were either over board, or dead on the deck as well, if not in the bow. Baada stood there, petrified as the boat approached a foreign land. Not the land of opportunity, where you can reach heaven and become a god in a concrete jungle. Instead, it was purgatory. Chernarus.
As Baada stood there, carrying the head of his father as it snapped its mouth lazily, his eyes were introduced to a thriving land, rich with agricultural opportunity. It was either turn around and return to the land of which he came; stricken by generations of war, poverty and famine. Or he could start anew, and rebuild his families legacy. As the boat grinded against the coast of Berezino, coming to a tilting halt, Baada dropped the head of his father in that moment and stepped foot on the land he would soon come to know as supernaturally hostile territory. This is where his story begins.