I returned home that afternoon and found mom waiting for me in the sitting room. I smelled trouble even before she opened her mouth. It was on her face, in her posture, and on the rest of her body. I had a feeling my plan had fail before I put it into action.
‘Where have you been?’ she asked.
She sat on the old faded settee, changed into her night gown.
‘Why don’t you find something productive to do with your life instead of wasting it on that stupid game?’
I stood against the door. I didn’t go to play chess. I went to Talatu’s house to tell her I was travelling to Lagos to get a job. I wanted to assure her that everything was going to be fine. But when I got to the house, I found the doctor’s Mercedes Benz parked in front of the house. I stood opposite the house for close to ten minutes, devoid of the courage to meet her in the doctor’s presence. They came out together later and drove out in the car. Talatu had a dress I had never seen her in, and she had a smile on her face. I walked home with my heart locked in a gas chamber; but I wasn’t going to tell mom about my relationship problems, that are for sure.
‘Why are you home early?’ I asked. ‘Are you okay?’
She stared at me. ‘Go back to Crawl and Learn and see if they will take you back. They might consider you for a teaching position or an administrator this time, who knows? If not, take your former position. Anything is better than wasting your life on that chess game.’ She got up and walked toward the kitchen, her thick feet storming the floor like a wrestler hurrying up for a rematch. ‘Do something to help your life.’
‘I am not going back to that school,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to be a nanny anymore. I am a man, for God’s sake.’
Mom whirled around and walked back to me. ‘Life is not perfect. As long as you don’t have your ideal job, make do with what’s available. Doing something is better than doing nothing.’
‘Crawl and Learn won’t take me back,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘They asked me to go in the first place. Mrs. Desmond said some parents complained that they didn’t feel comfortable with a man working in the crèche.’ I shrugged. ‘I didn’t quit, contrary to what you thought. They asked me to leave. I was ready to endure more nursery rhymes and the hellish babies’ cries, but they asked me to go.’
She stared at me. I stared back.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this part before?’ she asked.
‘You accused me of leaving because I wanted time to play the stupid chess; that’s what you said. I saw no reason to convince you it was otherwise; you had reached a conclusion on the matter before you heard me.’
She turned and walked back the kitchen.
‘Well, try another school,’ she said. ‘You have six months experience from Crawl and Learn, use it. Life’s about trying until you get what you want.’
I tucked my hands into the pockets on my jacket. I didn’t trust myself to give a reply. It might come out wrong and it could hurt her and make the evening unbearable. Her supporting me and my two brothers is hard work as it is; there was no need to make it harder.
Mom disappeared into the kitchen and I walked into my room and entered the toilet. I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself while I eased myself. I continued to stare at my reflection after I was done, wondering if some ill fortune lurked inside me to prevent me from getting a job. I had gone to school, did what mom and dad said, and graduated with a second class upper. It’s no first class, but it’s not the rear of the cow either. Now, it all seemed like all the effort was in vain.
I heard my bedroom door open.
‘Come out your food,’ mom said.
‘I’m coming,’ I said, and flushed the toilet.
But I remained in front of the mirror.
You are a loser, the face in the mirror said to my heart. You have nothing to your name. In five years’ time you will forty and you will be a fool without a job forever.
I walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen with a heavy heart. Mom’s back was turned to me and her shoulders looked droopy. I felt a surge of relief run over me; the droopy shoulders’ posture is mom’s way of offering a belated apology.
‘Where is Jasper and Yusuf?’ I asked to further ease the tension and accept her apology. ‘Did you meet them?’
‘They have gone to see Raphael,’ she said, pouring the white beans into a steaming pot that would cook our dinner. It’s beans for lunch and it’s beans for dinner; just that it’s not only the beans one will eat, but the weevils that came with it. Mom buys the weevil infested beans because she said it’s cheap, and no matter how she washed and sieved the weevils from the beans, I always smash the weevils between my teeth when we settle to eat.
‘What are they doing in Raphael’s house?’ I asked.
‘They said he sprang his hand playing basketball. They went to see how he is doing.’ She dropped the bowl in her hand and picked up the salt container. ‘That’s your food on the cabinet.’
I walked to the cabinet. ‘Mom?’ I said, picking the food. My heart was beating at twice its normal speed.
She turned and looked at me with alarmed eyes. I guess she sensed I was about to say something that could lift up her blood pressure.
‘Eric called,’ I said. ‘He said I should come for an interview slated for next tomorrow.’
‘Eric? Who is Eric?’
‘The classmate who stayed with me during the lecturer’s strike.’
Her eyebrows went up. ‘The talkative?’
I smiled in spite of myself. ‘That’s him.’
‘What kind of interview? Where?’
‘It’s a pharmaceutical company in Lagos,’ I said.
Mom’s eyes grew a shade wider and the alarm in them was unmistakable.
‘They are seeking for sales representatives,’ I added quickly.
She considered what I said for a moment and the expression on her face got graver by the minute.
‘Is it in the papers?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.’
‘Why not?’
I shrugged. The pressure cooker began to whistle then and the smell of boiling beans began to filter and spread around the kitchen.
Mom sighed. ‘Why can’t you take anything serious? If you know the name of the company, wouldn’t you learn more about them? How can you go to an interview without knowing one or two things about the company? How are you going to answer their questions correctly?’
I took my eyes away from her face and looked at the plate of beans in my hand, sure that cooked weevils were in there waiting for me.
‘What’s the name of the company?’
I looked at her in surprise.
‘Eric said it’s Mirsk or Marsk pharmaceuticals,’ I said. ‘I didn’t hear him very well.’
I hated lying to her but this was the only way I could get the money to travel from her.
‘How much is the transport fare?’ she asked. ‘Where will you stay in Lagos?’
‘At Eric’s,’ I said. ‘The fare is four thousand naira. That’s eight thousand to and fro.’
Mom sighed again. I was destabilizing her ironclad budget and that will surely cause her blood pressure to go a couple of notches up.
‘Give me half of the fare,’ I said. ‘Eric promised to pay my fare back.’
‘He did? Does he work?’
‘I don’t think he has a real job; he moves around doing whatever he finds...’
Mom raised her eyebrows. ‘He does whatever he finds, does he? Isn’t that what I have been telling you to do instead playing chess and listening to Assa all day? ’
‘It’s Asa, not Assa,’ I said. ‘And she is an icon, inspiring and giving hope to the youths of this country with her music. She is ten times better than most of the politicians in this country. Her albums sell in and outside this country, bringing foreign exchange to improve the economy. The politicians only spend our money with their fat salaries and perks.’
‘What about you?’ Mom said. ‘What have you created to bring foreign exchange to the country? Chess? Assa has made her name and fortune, and the politicians are making theirs at our expense; you—what are you making?’
‘It’s not my fault,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘I have done everything you and dad encouraged me to do. I have studied hard. I didn’t go to parties, drink alcohol or smoked. I earned a good degree and have done everything to get a job, even working as a nanny! I have done my part; it’s not my fault. You have always told me I find a job once I graduate with a good degree. Where is the job?’
Mom stared at me, her hand fidgeting with her dress, but her features softened.
‘Get your credentials ready,’ she said at last, turning and walking out of the kitchen. ‘I will give you six thousand from the ATM and you can leave today.’
‘Today?’
She stopped and turned around. ‘When did you say the interview is taking place?’
‘Next tomorrow.’
‘What time next tomorrow?’
I thought for a second. ‘Nine A.M.’
‘And you want to leave tomorrow evening? What happens if your bus breaks down before you get to Lagos? How will you get there before nine?’
I nodded.
‘Eat and pack while I get the money,’ she said. ‘If we hurry, we might catch up with the buses leaving late.’
‘Okay,’ I said and followed her into the living room, moving to the dining table.
‘I pray the good Lord will give you this job,’ mom said, heading to her bedroom. ‘God knows you are long overdue for one.’
I didn’t say amen to her prayer.
Mom and I left home before my two brothers, Jasper and Yusuf, got home. Mom insisted on following me to the park as if I was a teenager, giving the excuse she wanted to get greens in Terminus. I had the feeling she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going somewhere else from Lagos. We got into a tricycle at Fototech Junction and I send a text to Eric telling him I was taking off that night and that he should pick me up the next morning. I got an instant reply: Great! See you tomorrow. I felt a tinge of uncertainty again and I wondered if I was doing the right thing. But the thought of Talatu and the doctor getting married ran across my mind and pushed every doubt out. This was the only hope I had left to counter the doctor from taking Talatu to the UK. Mom and I sat in silence like strangers while the tricycle sped toward Tafawa Balewa Street. ‘Did you pick your credentials?’ mom asked. ‘Yes.’ We sat in another silence listening to the tricycle’s engine until we got to the motor park.
We got to Lagos a couple of minutes after six the following morning and I stared through the window, seeing the cars trailing each other like coaches on an unending train. People moved in a hurry like ants in a disturbed colony and hawkers ran along the sides of cars and buses selling their wares. Yoruba music, loud and piercing, rose from music stores, probably to soothe the chaotic scene, but ended up enhancing the frenzy. I felt exhilaration and dismay at the same time—like a man on a plane for the first time. The bus crawled through the traffic at a 2G internet pace. My mouth yearned to be brushed, and my stomach grumbled for food. We stopped at Ojota and some of the passengers got down. Another bunch dropped at Maryland later and eventually we reached the park in Ijora. The bus gave a loud hiss and the engine died and everyone got up to carry or drag their luggage down. I came down with my bag clamped to my shoulder, looking around. Eric was not in sight. I pulled my phone out,
We got to Eric’s house on Alpha Beach on the Lagos Island about an hour later. It was a one room apartment attached to a huge uncompleted building that looked like a warehouse. A settee lined the wall of the little room while a gigantic, old TV sat facing it. A mattress lay on the carpet to the left-hand side of the room. Two bags lined the bottom of the unmade mattress and a couple of trousers and shirts hung by the window pane; no wardrobe was in sight. I looked up and saw two huge spiders hanging on the ceiling, their well-established webs giving away the secret that they had not been disturbed for the last one year. The smell of dirty socks and unaired shoes hovered over the room. ‘Welcome to my bunk,’ Eric said, pulling his shoes off before stepping on the carpet. ‘Make yourself comfortable. The toilet and the kitchen are the doors you saw outside before we got in.’ He pointed to the bottom of the mattress. ‘Keep your bag at the bag station over there.’ He sat on the settee and p
I finished the noodles Eric cooked and dropped the plate on the carpet. It wasn’t properly cooked, but it filled my stomach and that was what mattered. The room was stuffed with the smell of the noodle’s spice and I felt nauseated all of a sudden. I leaned back on the settee and took long breaths, calming my stomach. I turned to Eric, who was also sitting on the settee, and found his eyes on me. Tolu was still planted on the mattress, his eyes glued to the phone and his left hand buried in his trouser. ‘Are you ready?’ Eric asked. ‘What do you think?’ I said. ‘You have kept me in suspense for two days.’ Tolu chuckled. ‘Eric, spill the beans! It’s not fair keeping us in suspense.’ Eric coughed and nodded. ‘It’s a strange plan, but just listen, and give your comments and objections later. Is that okay?’ I nodded and wondered why he said the plan was strange. Eric coughed again and his brown eyes twinkled like brown diamonds. I could hear his breath coming in fast, excited rhythm.
‘Tolu started it all,’ Eric said. ‘He met this guy from the UK online. Tolu was posing as a merchant from Nigeria selling Tin. This guy fell for Tolu’s gimmick and wanted to be part of it. He asked for samples and Tolu sent some to him. The guy got the sample, confirmed that it was the right quality and they struck a deal for him to buy a container load. He was meant to pay a third of the money last week, but he mailed and said there was a change in the plan: he was coming to Nigeria to see Tolu and to verify the quantity and quality before it’s shipped out.’ Eric paused. ‘Tolu tried to dissuade him, promising to send more samples. But the man insisted on coming. Tolu told him it wasn’t safe to come because of the high incidence of foreigner’s kidnapping, but the man was adamant and insisted to come or the deal was off. That’s when Tolu came to me with the problem, saying he was cutting off all communications with the guy and abandoning the deal. But I saw the opportunity and I told T
Tolu bought moi moi and bread for lunch at the café by the beach that afternoon. We stuffed ourselves with it and drank lots of water. Tolu left after the meal, saying he had to return his uncle’s car before he gets home after the day’s work. ‘What’s with him?’ I asked Eric when we returned to the room. ‘Why is he into this? Didn’t you say his uncle is rich or something? Why is he scamming people?’ ‘He wants to go to England,’ Eric said. ‘His uncle is rich alright, but he is as stingy as a needle with a short thread. All his children are abroad but he has refused to send Tolu there, saying he didn’t have the money to do it. I think he wants Tolu to remain here so he could keep running errands and do the house chores.’ ‘What about his wife?’ ‘She lives in New York. She comes once a year. Tolu’s uncle goes to see her most of the time.’ ‘So they don’t want Tolu to go there?’ Eric chuckled. ‘You know how rich people are; their children can have all the advantages in life but other c
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Tolu had returned briefly around eight that evening and gave me his laptop, with a folder containing the printed email exchanges he had with the white guy. ‘I hope you find some clues there,’ he said, moving toward the door. ‘But the guy is not after us or working with the police. He is probably one of the most gullible people I have tried to swindle.’ ‘I hope you are right,’ I said, opening the laptop. ‘I am,’ he said. ‘It’s a gift I have; otherwise, I would have been caught by now.’ He scratched his elbow. ‘I am off to a cousin’s birthday party in Surelere. Want to come?’ Eric and I shook our head in unison. ‘Alright, see you guys tomorrow,’ he said and opened the door. ‘Tolu?’ Eric said. Tolu turned. ‘Yes?’ ‘Don’t get drunk and tell stories.’ Tolu smiled and raised his two fingers to make the peace sign. ‘I won’t. See you later.’ And he walked out of the door. ‘He must be brave,’ I said. ‘We are going to kidnap someone in two days’ time a
Tolu came around eleven that morning and the three of us went over the plan again. Eric and Tolu thought the plan was flawless and they both gave me a hi-five at the end of my presentation. But a nagging unease lingered in my mind; I couldn’t place my hand on what was wrong, but it was there—teasing me, warning me.‘Dominic James is your scammer name?’ I asked Tolu. ‘I saw it in the email.’He smiled. ‘Yeah; that’s the name Mr. Potter knows me with. Don’t call me Tolu in his presence or he will know we are up to something.’I nodded. ‘Is that the name you use in all your scams?’‘No!’ he said. ‘You use a different name and email for every scam. That way no one can keep track of you.’ He smiled and looked fifty times more handsome. ‘Once you are done, dump the name and the email.’‘How do you keep track of all the names?’ Eric asked.‘That’s easy,’ Tolu said. ‘You read the previous conversations so you can remember what your name was.’Eric smacked his hands together. ‘You guys are sma