I wrote this as a movie script but my producers couldn't get it out on time.
So I'm releasing it in prose form starting today.
It's an inspiration tale that will keep you on the edge of your seats!

Leggo!

Story by
Tobi Abraham
Naomi Mbakwe

Written by
Tobi Abraham

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

© Tobi Abraham 2022.

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 1

The unforgiving rays of the sun beat down on the large acreage called Lebi High School, forbidding almost any shadow from being cast. On the exterior of classroom 2, a large printout states, ‘Polling Unit 25B. Voting in Progress.’ A long queue stands just outside this room. Amidst the prejudiced chitchat of looting, candidacy, and polity, tempers are flying and there is a random grumble as to why the exercise is taking so long. Someone swears that although it’s only midday, he has received report of many a polling unit that have successfully completed the voting exercise. An argument begins.

In the voting room, JJ’s petite frame is hunched over a printed volume filled with photos and biodata. A voter emerges from the voting booth and exits the room. JJ looks out through the window and sighs.

‘Aziza, how far?’
Aziza scoffs. ‘I swear, this thing just dey stress me since.’
‘Let me see.’

Aziza hands JJ the card reader and tuts. ‘I wonder what else could possibly go wrong today.’
‘That thing no work, I don tell you.’ Policarp says, ‘Mek una manage the one wey dey work.’ His long sinewy hands strewn with dozens of veins rocks a wooden chair back and forth.

‘The work is slow.’
‘Slow? Who no fit wait, mek im dey go house.’
There is commotion outside about who to go in next. Policarp heads for the door and bellows.
JJ trifles with the card reader and Aziza throws her head back in frustration.

They don’t hear the hairy barrel-chested man push aside the makeshift blockade at the emergency entrance and stalk in. He sets his gaze on an unused ballot booklet lying in front of JJ on the table. He addresses JJ dryly.
‘P.O. gimme that ballot booklet and one card reader.’

Startled, JJ looks up from the broken card reader. She squints to read off the man’s tag hanging off his chest.
‘These are official materials sir. Besides, a card reader is useless if you don’t—’
The man reaches into his pocket and produces a pouch full of voters’ cards. JJ purses her lips.
‘I’m afraid I can’t help you sir.’

Viper scoffs and whips out a wad of currency from another pocket. JJ grits her jaws.
‘You need to leave now sir. Right away!’
The man glares malevolently, then stalks out, muttering under his breath. Policarp turns in time to see the blockade being kicked aside. JJ and Aziza exchange grim looks.

*

The night before, several young people lay on sleeping mats in the dimly lit Central hall of Uyode secondary school, a couple of miles from Polling Unit 25B. The atmosphere sizzles silently with tension, and each person can barely wait for day to break. JJ sits in the far corner of the hall, bunched up on her sleeping mat, phone pressed to her ear and a scowl on her face.

‘… isn’t the time to play superhero. The election terrain is far more dangerous now. These politicians are willing to cut—’
JJ rolls her eyes. ‘Mama, this isn’t my first outing. I know how these things are. Besides, you know why I’m doing this. At least, encourage me some.’
‘Encourage you? Isn’t that’s what your father did? Where is he now? Eh? …God!’—crack—‘what did I ever do to deserve’—sniff—‘stubborn children.’

JJ grits her jaw. ‘Mama, he was a law enforcement officer. I’m only presiding over an election for crissakes!’
Mama sneezes. ‘Not even for your child’s sake or your sick mother. Whatever, just go with your—what is it called, in case of any of episodes. God be with you, that’s all I will say.’ Mama’s voice fades into inaudible mumbles.

JJ sighs. ‘I’ll be fine mama, promise. Let me talk to my baby.’
A toddler’s vigorous chatter comes into focus. Tears pool in JJ’s eyes.

*

On the dimly lit corridor of the hall, Policarp rounds off a call and heads back to the hall. He responds to his greeters with a curt nod. Aziza runs into him at the doorway.

‘You sef no fit sleep abi?’ Aziza chuckles.
Policarp smirks. ‘I say mek I collet small breez for awside.’
‘Guy, my body just dey do me one kain. I no fit wait mek this thing finish abeg.’

JJ emerges from the hall with an empty bucket and heads for the opposite doorway. She starts and glances behind her, then shakes her head on sighting Policarp and Aziza. She heads towards them.
‘You guys good? Looks like you can’t wait to get started.’ JJ says, a twinkle in her eyes.
Aziza scoffs. ‘You mean get it over with?’

They chuckle. Aziza joins in nervously.
‘It’s not rocket science na.’ JJ says, ‘Just breeze in, do what we do and breeze out. Like the LGA elections, eh?’
‘Omo, no be the same o.’ Policarp replies.

‘In other words, shit’s gotten real.’ Aziza says. ‘They even say this YYY party has some dreadful presence here. Truth to god, I don’t feel great about this.’ She flinches abruptly and jumps out of the path of a scurrying cockroach. Policarp kicks the cockroach into the night.
‘Last last, e nor get who nor dey fear. Even person wey wan carry ballot box dey fear. But we too, we gats do the right thing. Normal normal. Stay clean, stay out of trouble. Mek everybody go im papa house.’ He looks to JJ for approval.

‘Word,’ JJ replies, swinging her bucket this way and that. ‘Evil will always bow to the good if we do the right thing.’
‘You and this your grammar ehn.’ Policarp shakes his head.
‘Still doesn’t address the issue I raised though. YYY.’ Aziza says, still squirmish from the cockroach encounter.

Policarp tuts. ‘Guy I say nothing dey happen. If na cutlass levels, I full grand. That year wey I be PO for Bantu, if you see as dem rush me, dem reach twenty.’ Policarp jabs into the air animatedly. ‘Only me o, I tackle their papa.’
JJ chuckles. ‘Don’t mind him. Honestly, we all feel concerned about the whole thing, Aziza. But I spoke to one of the coordinators and she said at least a dozen policemen will be present. Our safety is assured. We just need to protect the votes, that’s all. I can count on you eh? Policarp? Aziza?’

Policarp’s phone rings. He bumps fists with JJ before stepping away to attend his phone.
‘Aziza?’
Aziza exhales.

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 2

Aziza sits ramrod straight in her chair, arms folded across her chest, and her light-complexioned face slightly flushed. JJ repositions the wooden barricade against the emergency entrance while Policarp stands aside, bemused.

‘I just knew we had this coming. You guys should’ve listened to me.’
‘Relax, Aziza. He’s gone now, isn’t he?’
‘Did you see the malevolent look on his face?’

Policarp pounds a fist into the wall. ‘Na God save am. Dey no born am well mek he follow me relate laidat. I for use blow scatta im papa face.’
JJ smiles. ‘Honestly, there’s no point in violence when you can defuse a bomb with a simple smile.’

Policarp scoffs. ‘Dey play. You wan dey follow street smile.’
‘So you guys really think that guy is gone?’ Aziza asks, incredulous.
Policarp reaches for the unused ballot booklet.
‘Okay. Mek we do am like this. I go hide this one, so dat if he or im boys come back, we go tell dem say the booklet don finish. We sha no fit finish the two booklet, abi?’

‘Better not to keep trouble lying around, eh?’ JJ purses her lips, then shrugs.
‘And you think that clears this up?’ Aziza asks.
‘Notin’ dey there na. I go just put am for inside the personnel bus. Nobody fit touch am for there.’ Policarp looks to JJ for consent.

JJ shrugs again. ‘At least, until we can figure out a more concrete solution.’
Policarp heads for the door. The furrows on Aziza’s brow deepen and her lips turns down in the shape of an inverted bowl.

‘Guys… wait. Lets’ take another look at this.’ She hesitates. ‘What if we just hand this guy the stuff, the booklet-whatever, I mean, he’ll just do whatever he wants, right? Give us some money perhaps—I mean—I’m not interested in the money, I just want us to go home in one piece. I’ve heard dangerous things about these guys.’

‘So mek I go find the guy, give am the booklet abi wetin you dey yarn? You sef reason am na.’
‘Why we con dey hide the booklet?’ Aziza retorts.
JJ dusts off her hands noisily and returns to her seat. She gets caught in a dizzying sneezing bout. Despite herself, Aziza hands JJ a hanky.

A moment later, calm and red-eyed, JJ says, ‘I can understand your anxiety, Aziza. I am worried too, but remember we talked about this. We’re not in this for the money. We are doing this, first, for our consciences, and then for the future of this country, yes? And no puny merchant will walk in here, hoping to change that.’

‘You don’t get… it’s not about the money for me too, but if, I mean... You guys know what is at stake here.’
Profanities sift into the room from outside. JJ shakes herself awake.

‘Let’s not drag this any further. Aziza, why don’t you secure the booklet? On your way back, inform the police about the situation. Perhaps they can come over and party with us until we’re done. Policarp will help with stamping.’
Aziza grimaces. Policarp cocks an eyebrow.

He says to JJ almost conspiratorially, ‘Sure say she go fit do am?’
Aziza shoots up like a rocket. She stops just short of Policarp’s face.
‘Wetin you mean? No, wetin you mean!’
‘Na play I dey.’
Aziza snatches the booklet from him and stumbles out of the classroom.
Policarp blows a quiet raspberry after her.

*

Minutes before the invasion, Viper is perched on the edge of his seat, attending a call, during which his jaws tighten and his eyes narrow into slits. When the call ends, he pushes away noisily from his table. He casts a stony gaze at one of the boys leaning lazily against the window frame softly playing music from his phone.

The goon is absented-minded until a member taps him awake. The room hushes into a quieter hush. Viper stands and approaches the member who tapped the goon awake.

‘Who ask you?’ Viper says. The boy’s eyes register shock just before a barrage of blows and kicks rain on him, knocking him over. Viper returns to his seat in calm fury and wipes his red knuckles with a handkerchief. He adjusts his oversized linen shirt over his pants before perching on the edge of a desk.

‘How many voters una don catch today?’
A flurry of conflicting answers emerges from the goons. Viper hushes them with a wave of the hand.
‘Na why Morris’ boys dey get more voters than us I wan understand.’
Another flurry of answers.

Viper flies to his feet, knocking the desk over. He reaches for his chair and swings it into the mass of flesh. Yelps erupt and half a dozen goons scamper from the room.

‘I pay una to sidan dey look? Una dey craze! Before I come back, anything wey mek me hear say YYY no dey front.’
Viper pats his pockets abruptly, muttering amid breathes. His face registers recollection. He calls back one of the goons.

‘You, where the thing wey I say mek you kip for me?’
The goon hands him a pouch, keeping a safe distance.
Viper pats his pockets some more, then stumbles out of the room.


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WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 3

Two armed policemen look about the voting room. From time to time, they ask Aziza questions. They proceed to look through the windows and doors. Finally, they motion to Aziza and leave.

Aziza returns to the work table just as JJ explains the voting rules to a voter and points him to the voting booth. Policarp stands heavily and excuses himself from the room. JJ looks up to Aziza, eyebrows raised.

Aziza folds her arms tightly across her chest. ‘Well, said to call them if anything.’
JJ clucks her tongue, ‘Told you we’d be fine.’
‘I’d feel much better if they’d stayed though. I tried to tell them but they argued that they’d rather hang around.’

Her hand wanders to the dimple on the bottom of her neck. ‘I still feel—’
JJ rolls her eyes and hands Aziza a stamp. ‘Stamp those booklets, will you? We don’t have time to fret. This will end soon and for good.’
‘Where’s Policarp sef?’ To Aziza, ‘Please signal the next person to come in.’

*

The queue extends for over five-dozen persons. While some on the line have found convenience sitting on wooden benches, Zannu, a young dark-complexioned man in plaid shirt and solid pants roams down the line, then up. He soon finds what he seeks: his coveted space on the queue and slots himself in like a coin in the vending machine. A moment later, an urchin waltz up to him.

‘Fresh guy, vote for TLC and get ten thousand Kra.’
‘Not for sale. Go away.’ Zannu turns his gaze elsewhere.

The urchin waltz away just as quickly as he had come. Another catches his gaze and walks up to him. He whispers conspiratorially to Zannu. Zannu snaps at him. The urchin casts him a spiteful look before walking away.

Zannu gazes into the distance for a moment, hisses, and gets off the line. He heads blindly for a shaded area.
‘So, whom are you voting?’

Zannu makes to snap at his new assailant. Then suddenly realises it’s a woman in shades, dressed in a flowy floral gown. The moment he registers the voice, his frustration melts into awe.

‘Madam Curry! Unbelievable! This is your polling unit?’
Madam Curry winks. ‘Small world, eh?’
‘Do magnates really get to move around just like that?’
‘Well, if an award-winning PhD student from the States can, why can’t I?’
Zannu squirms.

‘You were leaving?’
Zannu tuts. ‘Well, I’ve been on the queue for a while but these urchins keep pestering me about selling my vote. What irks me most is that the very party I’m rooting for is also involved in this drivel. Dude said he’d pay me fifteen thousand Kra to vote my candidate.’ Scoffs. ‘Maybe it’s just me but since returning from the States, this is the worst I’ve seen. Oh, sorry to be bothering you with this, it’s probably nothing to you…’

‘Oh, it’s mindless. Yours was even discreet. As I drove in, there are those outside the gate calling out with megaphones.’ Pause. ‘Nonetheless, you’d be shocked to know that people will still vote their conscience.’
‘I highly doubt that. This is a game where the highest bidder wins.’

Madam Curry adjusts her shades. ‘Funny though, you’re the only person I’ve met after all who’s spoken against the act. Everyone seems cool with it.’
‘Why’d something so evil be so cool?’
‘That’s your conscience speaking—lucky you. But do you know what happens each time you subject your conscience to this kind of torture? You get to the point where you feel there’s no point in trying. Then hope diminishes until you are overtaken by the same evil you speak of. Would you really feel better if that happened?’

Zannu pauses, then shakes his head.
‘So I advise, let’s be calm and cast our votes. I also left my place on the queue to stroll around. Who knew I’d find the revolutionary who returned from the States for the love of his country.’
Zannu grimaces.

‘Sane people like you are what we need to keep going. We can’t give in to the darkness.’
‘Fine... fine. But I’ll leave afterwards. It’s all just the same.’

*

A Toyota Highlander drives onto a safe clearing on the football pitch.
‘Get the refreshment to the election officers and check on what’s going on. Be back here in exactly six minutes and leave the engine running.’ The elder statesman says.

The liveried chauffeur scurries to the back of the jeep. The boot slams and it becomes silent. The statesman dials a number. A gruff voice answers harshly. After a long moment, the statesman responds:
‘Don’t worry sir, I’ll deliver… yes. Okay. Definitely, this ward is yours… yes. Don’t worry sir. Thank you.’

The call ends and the statesman bites his lips.
He dials another number and a moment later, Viper materialises from behind one of the classroom blocks and approaches the car.

The tinted window slides down. ‘You wan spoil market for me abi.’
Viper makes to protest, then stays silent.
‘Why oda parties dey convert more voters pass us?’
‘Oga mi. Dem nor fit. Me I pass Morris for this game o, Oga. I swear…’

The statesman observes Viper warily and shakes his head.
‘You no be the Viper wey I sabi. Wetin do you? Chairmanship elections, we lost, because you dey do sume-sume. See oh, if you pour my medicine troway, I go break your egg. That your slot… shebi na eight years you don wait, you just start.’

The window rolls up.
Viper’s eyes dart maliciously as he walks back to the classroom block.

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 4

At about the same time, Policarp enters back into the voting room, brow furrowed. He observes JJ and Aziza warily and waits for a voter to proceed to the booth.

‘Where’s the booklet, Aziza.’

JJ and Aziza snap up.
‘What… wait. Are you accusing me of selling the booklet?’ Aziza’s face is a mask of fury.

‘You say you keep am but I no see any bus for there.’

‘You dey craze! No be you say mek we kip am for insaid the bus?’ Aziza charges towards Policarp.

JJ hurriedly stands between them. She glares at Policarp.

‘How dare you! You can’t just walk in here and blame something on someone. We’re a team here!’

Policarp scoffs and walks to a seat. ‘Tell her mek she show us the bus.’

Aziza hisses hard and long, then storms to the window and looks out in the distance. The white Mercedes-Benz bus assigned to the polling unit to convey election officials as well as election materials had been parked near a stout broad almond tree behind which the team of policemen sat. Now, Aziza looks hard into the distance. She hesitates, then dashes out of the room. The room grows cold while JJ attends to the voters alone. When Aziza returns, her face is a mask of horror.

Policarp smirks.
‘The bus was there.’ She says. ‘Could it have been driven off? I don’t have the driver’s number.’

‘The way I see am, bus no dey there before. You don go use us play 2-odd.’

Aziza’s eye moisten up. ‘Me? I swear for my mama grave. Me? Na insaid the bus—’

Policarp rolls his eyes.
‘Let’s all calm down.’ JJ begins. ‘Policarp, this situation does not warrant accusations. We just need—’

‘Mek she tell us where the booklet dey, because if Viper come back, e no get wetin we fit fall back to.’

JJ is taken aback. She observes Policarp wryly.

Policarp slams a palm down on a desk, startling the room. ‘Na why I say she no fit run am. You for don lemme run am. See now, booklet we no see, money we no see. You f-up, I swear.’

‘Shey dem dey Bleep inside…?’ Voices sift into the room from the long queue outside. Other voices murmur incoherently.

JJ grits her jaws. She takes the megaphone and dashes outside. When she returns, beads of sweat have encased her oval face. She faces Aziza who is now seated, hands cradled in her thigh, body quivering from time to time.

‘You hid the booklet in the bus, didn’t you?’

Aziza shakes her head in wonder. ‘You don’t believe me too. Phew, what a day!’

‘I only asked to clear your end. That’s all.’ JJ sighs. ‘Regardless, we all need to work together—’

‘No be me and you. I no dey follow Barawo work.’ Policarp says and storms out of the room.

*

A man in liveried dress brings in a basket of drinks and cookies. JJ thanks him and he exits. She rises, takes a pack of chilled juice and hands it to Aziza whose eyes are stuck in the distance beyond the window. Aziza accepts it but continues to look out.

‘Look, Aziza. I’m on your side, okay? I didn’t mean to judge you… I just wanted to know…’ JJ sighs deeply. ‘Look, I’m scared too. I don’t know if that maniac will return, and I honestly don’t have it all figured out like you think I do. All I just know and believe is that a way of escape will present itself because we’re doing the right thing.’

Aziza scoffs and places the pack of juice on the table.

‘The right thing? You haven’t heard of those who died because they were doing the right thing?’ Scoff. ‘There’s no such thing as right thing. Only life and death!’

JJ rubs her oily face and leans against a chair. It doesn’t hold. So she sits instead.

‘Even if you were right, we don’t die once. We die daily, based on the decisions we make.’

Aziza sneers. ‘Which are? Wait… wait. Why exactly are you doing this? I mean this … are you trying to be some superhero or something? I mean, what point are you trying to make?’

‘Point? Err… not so much as a point. A wise man once told me its costly doing the right thing, but costlier not doing it.’

‘So that’s it? Really…? Look, where I am now, if I sense anything odd, I’m off. I’m not risking my life for anything stupid or for someone’s creed.’

JJ looks in the direction of the main door. There is agitation outside.

‘Not today, Aziza. Not today. Today, we’ll do our jobs and protect these votes. And we’ll let the police bother about protecting us.’

She hands Aziza a stamp. ‘At least, now that you’ve got some chilled refreshment. Let’s get this over with, shall we?’

Aziza rolls her eyes and accepts the stamp. ‘Still what I said.’

*

‘He thinks we can’t make progress without him? He won’t get away with it! I’ll include it in my report that he was mostly useless to us.’ JJ says.

She reaches for a sheave of papers from Policarp’s table. She can’t reach it, so she stands and walks around the line of tables.

Her back is turned when Aziza’s eyes bulges at the figure silhouetted against the emergency entrance.

To be continued... Read, comment and share.

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 5

‘You! I say make you give me booklet, you no gree! You wan die?’

Aziza snatches up the empty booklet and flips it with quivering hands.

JJ whirls about slowly. Her puzzled expression transforms into fury when she sights Viper who has now crossed the barricade.

‘You can’t just walk in here and threaten us when we are doing our jobs.’ She says walking slowly towards him. ‘Who do you think you are?’ She stops in the centre of the room.

Viper narrows his gaze in disbelief. ‘You dey challenge me? See this pikin!’

Aziza rises in panic. ‘Please calm down—’

‘You no sabi who I be for this Lebi?’ Scoff ‘I go show you say Viper no be for mouth.’

Viper starts to leave. He stops and looks around. ‘Wey dat goat?’

Then he exits through the main entrance startling the voters on the queue.
Aziza stares at JJ’s hardened jawline.

‘Get the police, Aziza. Where’s Policarp?’

*

Aziza dashes back into the room, panting like it’s 2078 and the world is filled with saw-wielding zombies who seek to slice you into coin-thin bits.

JJ is startled. The hobnob of words and gasps from Aziza only serve to startle her further.

‘You’re not making sense, Aziza.’

‘They won’t come! The police.’

‘Why? Weren’t they here a short while ago? I don’t get—’

‘Before I reached them, I saw Viper give them an envelope and walk away.’

‘What!’

‘Telling you what happened.’ Aziza stops to catch her breath. ‘The chief plainly told me to ‘better give Viper what he’s asking for and let’s all go home in peace.’’

JJ swallows dryly. Aziza slumps into a seat.

‘God. What shall we do now?’

Policarp strides in cheekily.

JJ glares at him. ‘Where’ve you been?’

He does not respond. He sits on a desk and dangles his legs absently.

‘That guy came back and you weren’t here to defend us…’ JJ continues. Then she snaps her finger in realisation.

‘Wait… if he returned, then it means Aziza did not sell out the booklet as you thought. Must be that the bus moved to another location.’

Policarp begins to smack his tongue around his cheek indifferently.

‘Wetin im con talk?’ He says.

Amidst attending to a voter, JJ replies, ‘Blabbing about showing who the heck he is. I mean, I don’t care who the hell you are. I’m doing my damn job here.’

She crushes a sheet of paper in annoyance.

Policarp shakes his head ruefully. ‘You think say im dey yarn opata? You nor know wetin you enter so.’

Aziza heaves loudly.

‘Police nko? Dem nor answer you abi?’

He clucks his tongue and continues to dangle his legs.

Aziza snaps her head in his direction, eyes narrowed.

‘How you take know?’

The voter leaves the booth and exits.

Policarp smirks. ‘I don tell you. Una for lemme run that booklet levels, I swear.’

‘We’re past that now. Let’s dwell on the matter—’

The stapler in JJ’s hand clatters to the table with a start.

‘Of course! You wanted to be the one to hide the booklet because you needed it to make a deal with this guy.’

Aziza sits up. ‘Ooooh yeah? That’s why he suggested the bus so he could go back and retrieve the booklet and give it to Viper.’

‘But when the bus drove off, you became frustrated and blamed Aziza.’
JJ sits in her chair heavily.

Aziza gives a clipped mirthless laugh.
‘He’s probably been out all this time looking for the bus… Meanwhile, Viper stopped to check on you, you hideous crook.’

She stands and walks to the window, kicking a desk and knocking it over. JJ slouches slowly in her seat with a deep heave.

‘Ehehn, wetin con happen?’ Policarp sneers.

JJ continues to heave.

Aziza frowns. ‘You okay?’

JJ’s breaths become short and raspy. She begins to gesture feebly towards the table. Policarp looks on confused while Aziza dashes here and there in response to JJ’s feeble gesturing. Aziza lays JJ flat on a bench.

JJ points weakly to the bag on the table one last time before her hand slumps to her side. Aziza’s yelp pierces through the rumble of the voters outside.

To be continued.
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WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 6

Zannu walks out of the voting room and scans the human-littered landscape. He sights the flowing floral gown and walks towards Madam Curry.

‘Went well, eh?’ She asks.

Zannu shrugs. He turns and steals a glance at the voting room. Through the window, he can see JJ briefly pace the room.

‘Told you so... We’ve got to keep the faith somehow, you know. So you’re leaving…?’

‘...No, I can’t leave. Something is wrong.’ Zannu responds with a furrowed brow.

‘Wrong? Where?’

Madam Curry’s voice fades into nothingness in Zannu's mind. He takes a deep breath and heads back for the voting room.

*

A short while later, Zannu and two young men stand with placards at the school gate, urging voters to stay and protect their votes. They snicker at Zannu’s refined features and the whiff of oyinbo accent in his voice but ignore he and his cohorts nonetheless.

A middle-aged man with a half-closed eye approaches the gate and hears Zannu’s petition. He stops for a moment, brows furrowed. Then he walks briskly into the exiting crowd. A few moments later, he emerges, the crowd in his wake.

In the distance, Madam Curry’s smile widens.

*

‘That’s the last person.’ JJ sighs and the room goes silent as the voter walks out.

Aziza purses her lips. ‘So, what now?’

‘I dunno. I mean, we stood our ground—’

‘Wetin we kon gain now?’ Policarp asks.

‘Gain? We don’t have to gain nothing! Inside of me, I know I’ve done my best. So we just need to go out there—’

JJ scans outside through the window. She spots the large group of people returning to the voting point. Then she sights Zannu and his placard-bearing cohorts. It hit her in that moment.

‘Of course! Get the people to stay and protect the votes!’

‘Huh?’ Aziza asks in befuddlement.

‘Be right back.’

JJ picks up the megaphone and gestures to the voting items. Aziza nods and follows JJ to the door.

‘Wait, what’d you tell that Zannu guy when he came back?’

JJ smiles wryly. ‘Let’s just say it’s for good.’

As JJ exits, Policarp reaches uncertainly for his backpack.

*

JJ is seen standing on a tree trunk outside the classroom block, speaking passionately into the megaphone. Faces appraise her petite frame as though wondering how a frame so seemingly frail can produce that much passion.

On the far end of the field, Madam Curry has joined Zannu and his team in persuading voters from leaving.

*

‘Arm yourselves! Fight for your votes.’ Madam Curry’s pipe-thin voice rings out through the megaphone amid the mayhem of bodies scattering in all directions. ‘Bring out your phones. Show the world what’s happening!’

A moment before, Viper and one dozen red-eyed goons armed with machetes and broken bottles had charged in from behind the crowd. Viper’s sleeves are rolled up and his waistline reveals a pistol tucked behind his trouser.

With the crowd stampeding on sighting the armed goons, JJ scurries into the voting room, and Zannu and the half-eyed man step between the armed goons and the crowd. Viper produces his pistol as Madam Curry’s voice rings out a safe distance away.

‘Show the world what is happening. Yes! They can’t win.’

*

In another part of the compound, a young man swings his phone camera around and speaks sporadically into it.

‘The situation is getting tense, guys... These guys are clearly high and there’s no telling what they can do… That’s why we need to do this…, stand against them and vote them out… Yes. We have the right to cast and protect our votes…’

He swings his camera to the empty security outpost.

‘Meanwhile, where are the police? Aren’t they supposed to be here at this time?’

He sights a policeman peeing behind the brush in the distance and tails him to a hidden metal shed where he finds the others, sitting, arms down, chatting. He maintains a healthy distance and says into the camera.

‘Officers, what d’you have to say about the brewing crisis at the –’

The men quickly avert their faces. One reaches for his rifle.

‘Young man, turn that thing off right now or I shoot you.’

The young man ducks into the shadows and runs like a bat out of hell. He stops some distance off to catch his breath and realises no one is pursuing. He points his camera at the shed.

‘Guys! Can you believe this? Those guys must’ve been paid off!’

His feet pick up as he hears movement behind him. He realises that its Madam Curry and a few others dashing towards him. He turns his camera to them.

‘Have you seen the police?’ Madam Curry asks, anxious.

He points to the concealed metal shed and Madam Curry and the others dart in the direction of the shed. The young man ponders briefly if it is wise to return to the lion’s den. He resolves to follow at a safe distance. He speaks into the camera,

‘I wonder what will happen now…’

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 7

Zannu walks out of the voting room and scans the human-littered landscape. He sights the flowing floral gown and walks towards Madam Curry.

‘Went well, eh?’ She asks.

Zannu shrugs. He turns and steals a glance at the voting room. Through the window, he can see JJ briefly pace the room.

‘Told you so... We’ve got to keep the faith somehow, you know. So you’re leaving…?’

‘...No, I can’t leave. Something is wrong.’ Zannu responds with a furrowed brow.

‘Wrong? Where?’

Madam Curry’s voice fades into nothingness in Zannu's mind. He takes a deep breath and heads back for the voting room.

*

A short while later, Zannu and two young men stand with placards at the school gate, urging voters to stay and protect their votes. They snicker at Zannu’s refined features and the whiff of oyinbo accent in his voice but ignore he and his cohorts nonetheless.

A middle-aged man with a half-closed eye approaches the gate and hears Zannu’s petition. He stops for a moment, brows furrowed. Then he walks briskly into the exiting crowd. A few moments later, he emerges, the crowd in his wake.

In the distance, Madam Curry’s smile widens.

*

‘That’s the last person.’ JJ sighs and the room goes silent as the voter walks out.

Aziza purses her lips. ‘So, what now?’

‘I dunno. I mean, we stood our ground—’

‘Wetin we kon gain now?’ Policarp asks.

‘Gain? We don’t have to gain nothing! Inside of me, I know I’ve done my best. So we just need to go out there—’

JJ scans outside through the window. She spots the large group of people returning to the voting point. Then she sights Zannu and his placard-bearing cohorts. It hit her in that moment.

‘Of course! Get the people to stay and protect the votes!’

‘Huh?’ Aziza asks in befuddlement.

‘Be right back.’

JJ picks up the megaphone and gestures to the voting items. Aziza nods and follows JJ to the door.

‘Wait, what’d you tell that Zannu guy when he came back?’

JJ smiles wryly. ‘Let’s just say it’s for good.’

As JJ exits, Policarp reaches uncertainly for his backpack.

*

JJ is seen standing on a tree trunk outside the classroom block, speaking passionately into the megaphone. Faces appraise her petite frame as though wondering how a frame so seemingly frail can produce that much passion.

On the far end of the field, Madam Curry has joined Zannu and his team in persuading voters from leaving.

*

‘Arm yourselves! Fight for your votes.’ Madam Curry’s pipe-thin voice rings out through the megaphone amid the mayhem of bodies scattering in all directions. ‘Bring out your phones. Show the world what’s happening!’

A moment before, Viper and one dozen red-eyed goons armed with machetes and broken bottles had charged in from behind the crowd. Viper’s sleeves are rolled up and his waistline reveals a pistol tucked behind his trouser.

With the crowd stampeding on sighting the armed goons, JJ scurries into the voting room, and Zannu and the half-eyed man step between the armed goons and the crowd. Viper produces his pistol as Madam Curry’s voice rings out a safe distance away.

‘Show the world what is happening. Yes! They can’t win.’

*

In another part of the compound, a young man swings his phone camera around and speaks sporadically into it.

‘The situation is getting tense, guys... These guys are clearly high and there’s no telling what they can do… That’s why we need to do this…, stand against them and vote them out… Yes. We have the right to cast and protect our votes…’

He swings his camera to the empty security outpost.

‘Meanwhile, where are the police? Aren’t they supposed to be here at this time?’

He sights a policeman peeing behind the brush in the distance and tails him to a hidden metal shed where he finds the others, sitting, arms down, chatting. He maintains a healthy distance and says into the camera.

‘Officers, what d’you have to say about the brewing crisis at the –’

The men quickly avert their faces. One reaches for his rifle.

‘Young man, turn that thing off right now or I shoot you.’

The young man ducks into the shadows and runs like a bat out of hell. He stops some distance off to catch his breath and realises no one is pursuing. He points his camera at the shed.

‘Guys! Can you believe this? Those guys must’ve been paid off!’

His feet pick up as he hears movement behind him. He realises that its Madam Curry and a few others dashing towards him. He turns his camera to them.

‘Have you seen the police?’ Madam Curry asks, anxious.

He points to the concealed metal shed and Madam Curry and the others dart in the direction of the shed. The young man ponders briefly if it is wise to return to the lion’s den. He resolves to follow at a safe distance. He speaks into the camera,

‘I wonder what will happen now…’

WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: FINAL EPISODE

‘Mr Viper, why don’t you stop your boys and let’s talk about this?’ Zannu says half-mindedly, backpedalling against the goons who are brandishing their weapons menacingly.

A piece of projectile narrowly misses Zannu’s head. He retreats faster.
An aged man steps forward from the cluster of party agents gathered to one side.

‘Nobody dey follow you drag am, Viper. No carry fight enter dis thing.’

‘No put mouth o, Mpolo! All of una dey there when that small girl dey tell me nonsense.’

The half-eyed man stops in his retreat. ‘Wait wait, Viper. Mek I tell you something. See ehn, I use twenty years fight for this country. After my family don suffer sotey, all my friends and brothers die for warfront, na im we discover say awa ogas dem just dey use us fight for their own gain. Today, dem still dey send awa young people go die for senseless war. You want mek your children dey part?’

‘Wetin concern me concern children? You sabi how much I don spend for here today?’

Another man speaks up. ‘Guyman, forget that levels! I do dis your work sotey, dem promise me better slot for guvment. Slot I no see, shishi I no see…’

Viper tuts in irritation. ‘Una dey waste my time.’

He waves his hand. His boys charge.

*

Aziza thanks the two young men who helped her barricade the entrances with desks and chairs. Policarp sits in a corner, chewing on his lower lip.

‘See,’ He says, ‘I tell my cousin say mek he ep us escape. Im don dey wait for outside.’

JJ looks up from stacking a sheave of papers in a box. ‘The results nko?’

‘You still dey look result. E be like you nor know wetin dey happen for outside.’

JJ glares at him. ‘So everything we worked for… down the drain, just like that? Those who voted in good conscience, who are now fighting for their votes?’ She sighs. ‘I just pray it doesn’t get any messier than this.’

Policarp tuts and turns to Aziza. ‘You go follow me?’

Aziza scoffs.

‘You put us in this spot in the first place. You should be working hard to get us out of it instead of blabbing about some cousin.’

She points to a sturdy bench. Policarp eyes the bench resignedly, then takes it over to barricade the main door. In the distance under the almond tree, the Mercedes bus arrives.

*

At about the same time, four policemen emerge from behind the metal shed, followed by Madam Curry. The chief surreptitiously pockets a wad of notes as he and his men march towards the surging conflict.

The young man pockets his camera on sighting the officers. Madam Curry beckons to him but he hesitates as one of the officers cast him a menacing glance.

When Madam Curry reaches his side, she asks, ‘Did you video them live?’

He shakes his head. ‘Didn’t upload yet. Poor network.’

‘Good. I managed to convince them. Now, they want you to broadcast them live in action. Can you do that?’

The young man begins to protest.

Madam Curry smiles. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll deal with them later.’

The young man nods. He whips out his phone and begins to film.

*

As Madam Curry’s entourage approaches, Viper’s boys charge in, and an uproar ensues. Fists are exchanged and weapons slash. In a moment, a half dozen persons lay wounded.

Zannu puts his judo skills to good use but is overwhelmed momentarily and knocked unconscious. It is at this point that the police fires warning shots into the air. The clash quells momentarily as the young man with the camera films shakily from a safe distance.

From the Toyota Highlander in the distance, the elder statesman looks on grimly. He gestures to his chauffeur. The car starts and zooms off in a cloud of dust.

*

The police manage to bring the clash under control, and the wounded are tended to by Madam Curry and her team. The security personnel insist that the votes be counted in the presence of everyone. So, with bated breath, the parties watch as the votes are counted. Viper fumes in the background as his party vote is counted.

‘993, 994, 995 … Party YYY has nine hundred and ninety-five votes…’ JJ announces.
A few minutes later. ‘473, 474, 475… party BCN has a total of four hundred and seventy-five votes…’
‘994, 995, 996… party TUV has a total of nine hundred and ninety six votes.’ JJ declares and a roar of triumph goes up.

Viper bites his lips and looks around for the highlander. When he can’t find it, he stamps off the clearing in exasperation, his boys at his tail.

*

Amidst the celebrations, Zannu surges through the jubilant crowd to the voting room, a wet hanky to his jaw. Two policemen wave him to a stop at the door. JJ waves okay to them, and Zannu approaches.

‘My god! Are you okay? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!’

Zannu smirks. ‘Says she who put her life on the line.’

JJ shrugs.

‘I don’t think Viper took the loss well.’ Zannu says after a moment of silence.

JJ shrugs again. ‘I don’t know too. His party fought but the people won. That’s the ideal. TUV—’

‘Yeah. TUV is the people’s choice, they won by one vote… blah blah blah. Gosh! I’m talking about your safety here!’

‘Well, the police promised to escort us safely. So…’ She wrings her hands.

Zannu sighs. ‘Well, I’ll talk to Madam Curry. Perhaps she can arrange some extra escort for you.’

‘That’d be great.’ Pause ‘We owe you, Mr Zannu. This country owes you. Thank you very much.’

‘Owe me? Nah. Like I said earlier, I could die for what I consider precious. And besides, if you hadn’t started it—’

Aziza clears her throat noisily. JJ looks at her and nods.

‘Gotta go, yes?’ Zannu asks. JJ nods.

‘Yeah. But tell me this last thing though.’ She asks. ‘Who’d you vote for?’

Zannu smirks. ‘TUV. Curious eh?’

*

The skyline is a deep red as Aziza and JJ pack the election materials into boxes.
‘Where’s Policarp and why isn’t he helping?’ Aziza whines. ‘God knows I’m fagged out.’

JJ stifles a laughter. ‘You didn’t hear? Viper wasn’t the only one he double-crossed?’

Aziza stops short, mouth agape.

*

At the far edge of the compound, Policarp casts furtive glances over his shoulders before slinging his bag over the fence and scaling it. As he lands on the other side, four goons materialise from the brush and close in on him.
He yelps and flees, leaving his bag behind.

*

JJ sets her bag on the sleeping mat. She dials a number on her phone, a hand absently clutching the inhaler. The line connects and the babble of a toddler is heard.

JJ says softly to herself, ‘We did it darling.’

THE END.