GENERATION III


And here is the second post I promised for tonight. Please enjoy. Read. Learn . And share. Generations continues next week.

Emeka had put his phone on silent while he showered attention on the delectable Amaka whose body had become his playground the whole Saturday. He was not expecting Kike back until late Sunday evening, so he planned to get his fill of play until then.

Kike arrived the campus at exactly 9 pm, and she got a lift from the main gate to the residential area. As she approached she dialed her Emeka’s phone severally without a response. She brought out the key to the boys quarters from her bag as the good Samaritan dropped her in front of the house. Trudging down the pathway, she could hear some soul music coming from the direction of Emeka’s room. The loud sound explains why he did not hear the phone ring.  She said to herself as she crept to the door and slipped the key into the keyhole. She opened the door slightly to put her head through unnoticed. Her eyes almost popped out when she saw two naked bodies wriggling like snakes on the mattress. She pushed the door open and screamed.

Emeka jumped out of the bed and grabbed his trousers frantically, while Kike broke down wailing.

“Arrrrrgh…Please tell me I’m dreaming.  Somebody please wake me up…” She ran out of the room into the quadrangle, and back again lifting up her skirt like one who had gone berserk.

“Why are you shouting?” Emeka wanted to calm her down at first but he quickly thought it an auspicious moment to send her out of his life.

“Babe, I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you.  I’m sorry you had to know like this.”

“Right time to tell me? To tell me what?”  Kike screamed.

Emeka shielded Amaka who had wrapped herself with the bed sheet to cover her nakedness.

“That I have moved on. I cannot continue to put up with you. You choke life out of me.” With his eyes on the table that had the knives, He moved back in preparation to launch forward and hit her in case she tried any of her violent moves.

“Oh, I understand. It’s over. It’s over between us. Right?” 

“I am sorry it had to be like this.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. At least you are man enough to tell me. You are better than the man who sired me, James.  James abandoned my mother and ran away.” She stretched her hands to the top of the wardrobe and threw her portmanteau to the floor, and started throwing her clothes from the hangar inside it.

“James went unhurt. But as surely as the sun rises and sets on this campus every day, I will deal with you.” She picked up her shoes and let the tears flow as she spoke.

“By the time I am done with you, you will hate your life.”

Kike picked her last pair of shoes and flung them in the direction of his torso. Emeka docked and the shoe hit Amaka.

“You bastard!” She pushed the heavy bag with her legs gradually, and guided them with her hands at the door until she got outside.

The door slammed behind her immediately after. 

Dragging her portmanteau behind her, she dialed Rolawe and prayed she would pick up her call. The phone rang twice before Rolawe answered on the other end.

“Babe, how u dey?” Rolawe’s harmonious voice was soothing.

“I need your help dear. Please pick me up on Imo Street now. Pleeeeaaaase.” Kike tried to hide her emotions.

“What about Emeka? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just come over now. I’m waiting on the road.” She prayed her friend will put an end to the questions.

“Okay. I’ll be on my way immediately.” The line went silent.

Rolawe lived on the other side of campus, so she envisaged a fifteen-minute wait.  While she waited under the street lights, she looked up and wondered if God was really up there watching the life of this twenty three year old girl. She wished she had another life.  By the time Rolawe’s Old 1998, Honda Accord showed up around the bend, her thoughts had become suicidal.

 

                                                                                DECEMBER 1988

Armed with his passport, his air ticket for a stand by flight out of the country, enough money in his pocket, and a travelling bag that contained a few clothes, James alighted from the taxi at Murtala Mohammed Airport Car park, handed the cab driver a few one naira notes and headed for the check-in counter. South Africa was a rare destination for Nigerians, so he anticipated a flight full of white people and enough decorum to allow him process the happenings of the last twenty four hours. It was 7pm and he will be airborne in about three hours.  Being a frequent Nigerian traveler, he kept his eye on his international passport as the customs officials scrutinized and cross checked the information.

While he waited to board, James decided to have a meal at the restaurant. He realized he had not eaten since he left campus the previous day. He grubbed away hungrily on the plate of fried rice and chicken that was served. The face of a black man watching him from behind a newspaper on the other side of the table was strangely familiar. He took a second look in the man’s direction and realized he could not put a name to the face. A fugitive on the run, he quickly abandoned his food and left the table to exit the restaurant.  He picked up pace as he saw the young man rise from his seat. Heart pounding, and legs quivering, James shuffled quickly through the crowd and headed straight to the nearest toilet. He entered the last toilet and locked the door immediately. The face he saw came together like a jigsaw puzzle immediately the lock clicked. It was the face of Lati, head of Ape, famous rival cult in the University of Lagos campus. 

I am a dead man.” Taking a cursory look at the ceiling above, he hoped to find some space through which he could climb up and hide.

“Balogun! Come out! Let’s not make a scene here.” Lati’s deep voice made James shiver . The door to the restroom shut and the latch on the door echoed through the walls. James recalled the last strike of his cult on campus was against Ape cult boys. The Capone of the University of Ibadan campus was murdered in cold blood and his body abandoned at the centre of the Student Union Building. He was the one that drove the body to SUB in the middle of that fateful night and dropped it with a message for Ape.

“Every journey has an end, so every life must end some day.” Lati kicked the door to the first toilet.

The ceiling was tightly sealed and the only visible spaces were the vents of the airport’s central air conditioner. James’s vision blurred as the doors to the other toilets open kick after kick with loud thuds and echoes against the walls. Lati’s footsteps drew closer to James in equal intervals of time that seemed to dissipate quickly into eternity.

“God. Forgive me this one time. Please make a way of escape for me.” James could not remember the last time he prayed, but he knew God answers prayers and miracles happen every day. The thuds of Lati’s boots closed up and brought death closer to James’s consciousness. He climbed down the toilet bowl opened the door and went on his knees as soon as the footstep landed in front of the door.

“I don’t want to die. Have mercy upon me, Lati.” He cried out.

Lati drew back and leaned on the sink opposite the door as if to get a clear view of his cowered victim. James knew better than to take advantage of the space by running to his heels. Lati was nicknamed Aimsmall. Having attended three different universities in the country within a space of three years, he had earned a reputation for teaching young cult recruits how to shoot without missing. Standing five foot short, with a dark skin and well chiseled square face, James pleaded for mercy over and over again. Besides, a cult Capone walked around with at least four body guards, who would most likely be at the door.

“Your death will be your decision! Follow me quickly; you have wasted enough of our time.” Lati took long steps toward s the door while James followed behind quickly.

 Shuffling through the crowd of travelers at the airport, James noticed two guys that moved at the flanks at the same pace with Aimsmall. Bile crawled into his mouth and sweat broke down all over his body as he wondered what was going to become of him. Will I be tortured to death? Or shot at point blank range? Will I be buried alive with my head first in the ground?

After a few minutes Aimsmall took a detour into the same restaurant he sat earlier.

“News of your betrayal is everywhere. You slimy idiot!” Lati spat at James’s face as he spoke. Two of his boys sat on either side of James while he sat opposite. The table was in a lowly lit secluded corner of the restaurant. Another two of Lati’s bodyguards sat on a table close to the door.

“You betrayed your Capone. Slept with his girl and impregnated her. Now you want to run away! Even in Hollywood escapes are not as easy as you planned it.”

“There will always be a few twists and turns.” Removing his dark shades, he takes a hard look at James.

“Let me have your passport!”

“I see. Our former minister’s son wants to escape to South Africa. And of course he is well travelled, he will know his way around.” Lati whispered into the ears of one of his guards who disappears for a short while and returns with a small suitcase.

James sat still, not knowing what to expect. He stared at the black Giorgio Armani leather brief case. Lati pushed it to him.

“You will take this to South Africa in exchange for your life!”

An awestruck James opened his mouth wide realizing he was being forced into drug trafficking.

“Close your mouth idiot; if we had only one of you in Ape we wouldn’t need to do this. This is where we get money to finance our activities.”

James knew there was no going back! He only wondered which was better; to traffic drugs or to face definite death in the hands of a rival Capone.

“The security details are covered in both countries. I have run this racket for several years plus this briefcase is secure and impenetrable.”   

“Call this number when you get to South Africa. You will get further directions from our man.” Lati handed him a card with a phone number scribbled on it.

“You will not be paid James. You are buying your life back with this trip. It was nice meeting you today. I have been thinking of a way to get this last consignment on today’s flight. You came in here at the right time.”

“Time to go!” Lati handed the briefcase to James and walked him down to the check-in counter where he surreptitiously handed him over to a customs official and disappeared with his men. The man looked at James and passed him into the departure lounge with speed. He slipped a piece of paper into his hands.

James unwrapped the paper as soon as he was passed. It read “Go through the third checkpoint when you get to SA!”

 

 

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5 thoughts on “GENERATION III

  1. Pingback: GENERATION III – The Passion Chronicles

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