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Chuks didn’t bother looking at it even as she played it, “Forget it. It’s a plan. Trust me I know these people” he said with eyes deep into the air reflecting on an experience and the fact that Nickel already knew she was after such stories. He wanted telling her but had to back down. “So, what do you think of the Chappi guy?” Agnes decided to change the subject stopping the video that was playing on the laptop. “I don’t know…write minor articles on him to get the public aware? Keep with the investigation?” he suggested. Agnes looked at him with brimmed eyes then smiled. Chuks looked on wondering why she did. “And about the people with powers, that you said” he reintroduced the subject, “As a kind friend with a well-meaning advice, they don’t exist. Nothing is out there except what you see physically” he said.


Is it? Agnes thought to herself only to realize she had sounded like Lillian in her mind. But unlike Lillian who was of the superstitious belief, she felt there was rather some scientific or existential belief or explanation towards the meta of things.
“If anything happens to me or nothing is heard of me, I want you to call my assistant, Damilola and tell her what happened” Agnes ended up saying after minutes of thinking, planning and looking into the scope of things.
It was clear her mind was made up which Chuks found rather confusing.
“I don’t understand…” he muttered, “Why?”
“I don’t know. I am just having a strange feeling. An omen” she revealed.

Chuks could tell from both recordings that in one, it had to do with Agnes talking to a guy; based on the voice and in the other, it was her talking to a guy and a girl, and the girl had rage issues.
“Do you still not notice anything?” Agnes asked, irritated by the silence she got.
“The two recordings have your voice in them” Chuks answered with Agnes rolling her eyes. She wanted more. “Yes” she nodded, “Only that?”
“And in one, I could hear the buzz of the night” Chuks replied, squeaking in demonstration. He had to stop once he met Agnes’ eyes though, “Then in the other…I haven’t seen or heard women quarrelling at the night, so I think you were quarrelling with someone in the day time” he guessed.
“What about the male voice in them?” Agnes was rather less than impressed.
“The first one I guess is….Chappi” Chuks theorized, with Agnes somewhat becoming impressed though hiding it behind a façade. She had almost started talking before Chuks came through again, “Do you mind if I ask how you got the bastard to agreeing for an interview?” he asked, seeing it was his turn to, “…am guessing he killed someone from the tone of your voice in it” he added, stating his thought and his assessment of the recording.
“And the second?” Agnes rather ignored his question; more about that later, she thought. “I-I don’t want to jump to conclusions” Chuks babbled, “But the guy in the second recording shares same voice tone with the thug” he theorized.

That moment Agnes revealed how much she was amazed at his intelligence and deductive skills that she couldn’t hold off her excitement, “I thought I was the only one who recognized that. And…” she said.
“Not only that” Chuks interrupted, “Virtually what he said was at some point during your convo with Chappi were what Chappi himself said” he pointed, with eyes concentrating on Agnes. It only took few seconds to blink at the laptop before returning to Agnes. “How did you come across this guy? How did you find out?” he settled to ask.
“The girl…his girlfriend” Agnes began, “The girl in the recording set me up” she finalized. At first, she had thought of what to say or how to sugar coat it and not paint anyone black, but then second thoughts came to tell her to say it the way it was.
“What?”
“Forget it, you don’t want to know the rest” Agnes advised somewhat in annoyance with the question.

Bothering less with the full gist, Chuks rather continued with his findings, “Same speech tone. Same pitch” he said, “What are you going to do?” he decided on asking the better question, having come up with a plan himself.
He looked at Agnes to see if his’ could come into play.
“Look at these photos” Agnes immediately brought to view some photos from her phone again, this time, from a different folder, and with a different image rendition. The images left Chuks wondering why Agnes would have a boy’s picture in her phone.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Chuks thought to ask. But then, it was the worst question he could have ever thought of.

Agnes’ mad stare swung at him that moment that he was left with no choice but to apologize by taking his eyes off her. “Compare the physique with the one I took of Chappi” she said after accepting the awkward apology. Chuks turned his eyes to the laptop and Agnes’ phone again. It was then he noticed she took the photo from a Facebook profile; one he would testify wasn’t her’s. It had the username ‘Chymamanda Williams’ atop to indicate the owner of the profile. By the name one would assume it to be a girl, which implied the guy was either a boyfriend or relation.

Shaking his head, Chuks returned his eyes at Agnes. “I don’t want to jump into conclusions but, are you sure this isn’t who we’ve been looking for?” he theorized without a second thought.
He had read from a book in which the name of the author he had forgotten that said ‘there was nothing as such as coincidence’. Agnes too appeared to have read such book, “It explains why the girl would set me up and how Chappi guy found where I was or was going to be” she said, “You are right” she acknowledged, referencing their last conversation and Chuks’ theory of Chappi. “It was some gang fight” she added, “I was just the pawn” Agnes sighed as her eyes went sore at all they came in contact with. She was left with no other option but to sigh again.

“Maybe we shouldn’t just jump to conclusions just yet” Chuks advised, hoping to comfort Agnes before falling on his plan earlier, “So where does this guy live?”
“Some street called Ademola, off Ray Power road” Agnes replied, crossing her legs together as she stared at the laptop, then like a jolt of electricity, Nickel struck her mind, “The Ray Power at Alagbado” she added.

Glaring at the files, Chuks turned to the desktop then to the laptop before finally focusing his eyes on Agnes, “So what’s your plan now? Are you going to off him?”
“With what evidence?” Agnes reminded. Evidence we would have to find Of course, Chuks thought in response to the question. Surprisingly, Agnes appeared to have heard his thoughts, “But I suspect his girlfriend knows” she said.
Chuks’ eyes lit up on hearing that. A back up plan settled inside his thoughts immediately, in case of a last resort. Noticing Chuks’ awkward silence, Agnes got prompted to change the topic; the second reason she was there, “So about Alexander Nickel…how did he find out?”
“Find out what?” Chuks rephrased, only for his eyes to widen after 50 seconds upon the realization he had just heard her mention the name ‘Nickel’, “Christ! Did he discover my identity? Where I work? How…?” he jabbered scaring Agnes that moment. His expression wasn’t something to behold.
“He knew my name. What I do for a living and things I’ve done on the internet” she too came off, “How?” the question stood as she asked it. Calming, Chuks discovered where the fault came from. It wasn’t from him, and it not being from him meant he wasn’t going to be in any trouble. He knew well to cover his tracks.
“…you used your phone to email him right? Or your laptop or any device that belonged to you and you use when browsing?” he asked, “That’s how he found out” he revealed. What if she implicated him? “Jesus! I knew something like this would happen” he struck his desk hitting his annoyance at it.
“I don’t think he knows about you and I didn’t tell him” Agnes notified, calming his fears at the spot. “No. no not that…” he argued, faking modesty. Agnes saw through it though. “What did he say? Is he going to sue you? Is he threatening you?” he decided to ask to reduce the tension; his tension.

Sighing, Agnes brushed the right angle of her hair, “Contrary to that” she said, “he asked me to meet him” A great deal of silence that instance found its pathway through Chuks leaving the midget a shade of his former self, “Wait…what? Why? When?!” he came off of his suspended animation to ask.
“We kept chatting and he disclosed a lot of things to me. Things the world isn’t aware of” “His conspiracy theories?” Chuks found the right time for sarcasm.
“No. The truth…that there could be super-humans living among us” she corrected.

Shaking his head, Chuks adjusted himself on his seat like one who felt threatened; focused only on his comfort to avoid people gauging his feelings from his expression, “You mean like Einstein, Michael Jackson, Usain Bolt?” he asked, glaring.
“No” Agnes restated, “People with actual powers not intellect or abilities” she clarified. “Intellect is also power,” Chuks insisted, much to Agnes’ irritation.
“I don’t know if it’s some kind of plan but what he revealed to me…” she explained pausing once she realized there wasn’t a perfect way to put it, “It was real” she ended, preferring to leave it at that.
“It’s a plan” Chuks mumbled as his eyes widened. Agnes looked at him to see her father’s strict gaze on them, “Trust me it’s a plan. If it isn’t, why the sudden interest in you?” he reduced the intensity of his gaze with the question. Agnes looked away realizing she couldn’t find an answer to it, “A real person discovering his account was hacked would have first thing sued you or asked for something to keep cool” Chuks went further, “This guy didn’t ask for any of that, so one thing for sure is, there’s something weird going on. A plan that he’s trying to lure you into” he said looking straight into Agnes’ eyes.

She had to back off on meeting his eyes though.
It was the first time he had ever looked at anyone like that and it was one of those moments he didn’t wish to. But he had to. “You shouldn’t even consider the idea of meeting him. You don’t know who he or she is. He could be a terrorist” he came up with another theory. A theory Agnes backed down.
“He doesn’t sound like a terrorist” she said.
“Who sounds like a terrorist?” the question threw itself up. And indeed, it was the question. “Shekau” Agnes replied, straight and blunt. Chuks felt he needed to rebuke though.
“That one is a tout” he chided, “You think he is a terrorist? The real terrorists are men in suit. With plans” he disclosed. Staring for seconds, Agnes opened her lips, “He gave me these videos” she revealed, connecting the U.S.B back to her phone and bringing out the videos from a folder hidden in her phone to the view of the laptop.

A LADY’S GOT TO MAKE HER MOVE
“…if it isn’t my favorite journalist” Chuks looked at the door to see a lady walk into his office. He smiled reciprocating the smirk she gave. “Chuks, just the man I want to see” Agnes returned, maintaining the jovial atmosphere. She stopped when she realized what she had said could be taken into other context. There was another literal meaning to her words.

Chuks figured it out though, mouthing an ‘Oh’ afterwards. Agnes heard it.
“Not in the sense you are thinking of” she corrected before smiling to the bewildered Chuks. Taking the joke for what it was, Chuks laid his back to his chair, “I wasn’t thinking anything” he said, with a tongue in cheek seriousness. “But I must admit I was looking forward to us meeting today” he added before pointing his pen at Agnes. He took it back to his mouth afterwards. “I need your help. Like seriously” Agnes said immediately, going straight to the point of her being there than pick on the flirt.

Chuks sat wondering afterwards if she was even ever there in the first place on any other basis. He looked at her to hear her reason this time. “How is work?” she instead asked, taking him off-guard.
“Ehm…” he stuttered, “Busy. Busy, they haven’t fired me yet” he answered. Chuks pointed to a seat next to him afterwards as Agnes came closer. He rolled his chair around to face Agnes while his heart raced with confidence.
“I noticed,” She said sitting on the chair, “The gateman outside was still the same man I met last week. I was expecting if they’d fire anyone it would be him” she joked, “So what’s up?”
“Cool. The sky?” Chuks looked at Agnes to see she was somehow resuming the flirt.
“Called you yesterday and I was hearing clinic attendees talking on the other end of your line. Did you go for a treatment?” she lowered her voice to ask.

Eyes beamed, Chuks looked up to answer but realized there were some things he couldn’t say, “Eh…! No. I took a cousin who was sick for a treatment,” he answered; truthfully but not in any way honest.
“Sorry about that” Agnes touched his lap, “How is he?”
“Fine…fine” he answered with shrills, “They said he’ll be fine,” he added, with a sigh. “How about the colleague they said the other day was dead but later turned up at the hospital?” Agnes looked into Chuks’ eyes recalling their last meeting.

Taken aback at how she could possibly know that, Chuks stared at her for moments only to realize she was there last week when it happened. “Dead” he muttered, “He later ended up dead in the hospital,” he disclosed, appreciating Agnes’ sense of concern.
He took few glances at her knowing he had to do something to avoid the conversation taking the form of an interview. He wasn’t sure if it came to an interview, he could hold his mouth, “…so, what do you want me to do for you?” he changed the subject.
“I found the Chappi guy. The lunatic” Agnes revealed, shocking Chuks. “You were right” she added, shocking Chuks more.

Wow, today seemed a good day at last; he thought as he found himself hearing all he ever wanted. “My God, what happened?” he turned to ask gracefully.
“I don’t want to go into much detail,” Agnes disclosed, cutting short Chuks’ excitement. Seeing his expression afterwards, she sighed giving in. “It happened like the last time. I was attacked; he showed up…” she paused, “But this time I got some photos and a recording. Some prove he exists”
“Wow” Chuks mouthed as his excitement returned and throat dried. He couldn’t hold himself from geeking out after the revelation “So does this mean you are writing the article?” he asked after swallowing his saliva.
“Yes” Agnes smiled, “No” she retreated, frowning once it occurred to her that no matter what she had, she couldn’t jump into conclusions and make false promises. “Not yet, but I want to see if you can help I. D him first” she disclosed.

Chuks had earlier frowned but on hearing her alternative, he felt there was still a cause for hope, and a better way to end his day. “Before you can expose him?” he asked. Agnes rather nodded in response than voice a reply. In another sense, it was neither an affirmation nor a denial. “…so how do I do that?” Chuks asked; the very question Agnes had hoped he would.
Bringing out her phone instantly, she dropped it on the desk in front of Chuks who sat startled. For one he wondered if she was about gifting it to him. “Here…” she said, “The photos are in the folder—the unknown” Agnes added as Chuks picked the phone.

Following her instructions, he tapped its screen to see Agnes’ picture embedded on it. He smiled before swiping the screen to locate the gallery. Chuks went straight afterwards to the folder he was asked to, before searching his drawer desk for a USB cord to transfer the files to his laptop. “I want to make the images bolder on a wider screen,” he disclosed clicking the folder titled ‘the Unknown’. “Okay” Agnes shrugged, “The recording is also in the folder. 2 audio recordings” she revealed, touching the laptop screen to point its locations. “What changed your view of this guy?” Chuks asked turning to steal a glance at Agnes before returning to the image that was in front of him. He paused instantly to stare at it.
It was an image of the masked guy; the guy referred to as Chappi.

Struck by curiousity, he zoomed in on the photograph with no halt for a second thought.
Though the image featured someone in a white smiley mask and dark long sleeves, Chuks felt there was more to be derived off the photo than what was on the surface level. He was so sure of it that he took the stress to zoom in on the eyes and the layout of the mask; something, which in the end amounted at nothing. He scrolled to the next picture, carrying out the same action over and over again.

Chuks scrolled yet again to see another image but this time, instead of Chappi, it was dead bodies. He gulped at the sight before zooming in on the photo again.
“I realized later on he was just like every other thug,” Agnes said looking at Chuks and at the laptop. “Am glad you finally came through” Chuks muttered, “I hope he didn’t hurt you?” he turned to ask. Agnes rather than answer Chuks, stared on thinking of what to say and what not to say. Seeing no definite answer, she shook her head. “There’s nothing here to I. D…” Chuks went on, startling Agnes.
“What?”
“Nothing at all” he maintained meeting Agnes’ eyes in and out as she stared at him, the laptop screen, and him again, “So what do I do now?” “Play the recording,” she instructed. Complying, Chuks went on to the next files to click on the recording that came first. “No, play it at once. The two” Agnes interrupted, giving a new order.

Chuks played the file with one software application on the laptop then the second recording, with another application. He increased their volumes as he relaxed to listen to them.
“What do you notice?” Agnes asked after 3 minutes.
Was there something to notice? He thought. “Nothing” Chuks replied, confused as it was the first time he was listening to it. He knew in the 2 recordings that played, had Agnes’ voice in them, but wasn’t sure what she meant by noticing anything.
“Play them again” Agnes commanded again.

Chuks played the records once more as instructed but this time with uncanny ears. He was careful to be able to atleast pick 2 or 3 statements off the recordings to give as assessment.
He picked from the recordings the statements---‘Do you know how many lives you have risked by killing them?’ ‘In a jungle, jungle justice is necessary, if you can’t stay in the jungle leave’, ‘Call 9’ eleven’, ‘You said it yourself, he saved you, would you have preferred otherwise?’, ‘Sometimes in a jungle, jungle justice is required’, ‘would you excuse us?’, ‘How can you come to my home and accuse me of nonsense?’.

“No, he’s going nowhere” Chimamanda snapped in, “Whatever you want to say, say it” she demanded. Well, if she wasn’t ready to allow her save her face in front of her boyfriend, what other choice does she have? Agnes thought, “Okay” she affirmed twisting her neck gently, “I know you set me up, Chimamanda” Agnes came off, unhesitant and with clarity.
She knew Chimamanda would rather prove otherwise though, “Excuse me…is that supposed to be a joke or what? Set you up for what? Who are you?”
“You asked me to meet you, only for you to give me a wrong address; an address that sent me to Eulogy. You set me on a death journey, Chimamanda” Agnes explained, and was ready to all day if she was going to keep playing coy. “At first, I wondered who was capable of that, and then I thought maybe a lunatic. Who else would send a defenseless person on a road knowing the outcome?” she continued, with Timothy’s eyes lingering on. Chimamanda on the other hand was still vexed, “…but then, I had already called Chappi…this masked guy a lunatic, but he saved me. What would I call you who set me up for death then?”
“Amanda, what’s going on? What is she talking about?” Timothy busted into the fight, at the dine minute. Obviously he had asked himself those questions and was tired of having silence for the answer.
“How can you come to my home and accuse me of thrash? Who the Bleep are you?” Chimamanda sparked, ignoring Timothy discreetly. Frustrated with the foul play, Agnes pulled off the scarf on her head, “He did this to me” she barked back standing up, revealing the scar that was an inch from the centre of her head.

She turned back again facing Chimamanda upfront, then pulled her shirt up to the position of her tummy to reveal another wound. “Eulogy and his gangs did this to me” she said again, “…but what I ask is, was what you did worth it?” Agnes continued after pulling the shirt down. Chimamanda had opened her mouth to air something but when nothing came out, she closed them. Timothy stared at her. Is this a game? The guy found himself asking. “I guess you two lunatics are the same…” Agnes proclaimed once she found no answer or response. But just then, Chimamanda turned to Timothy; at long last “Would you please excuse us babe?” she muttered. Timothy rather found himself lingering on; was this the right time to tell him to leave? “…I would explain all. I promise” she said seeing the guy wasn’t ready to leave just like that.
Eyes willing but legs stiff, Timothy realized it was the time he had waited for earlier but now, he was rather unconcerned about it. Still, he found he had to comply, to obey.
“Lillian…I mean Agnes” Chimamanda turned to Agnes once Timothy had left, “Am sorry” she said. “For what?” Agnes asked, pretending not to comprehend. It was her time to play dumb, and seriously why was she now sorry? “I am just a stranger who busted into your home accusing you” Agnes said, turning to leave. Chimamanda stepped forward to stop her. “I had to do it” she confessed, “Like Lillian, he threatened me. I don’t know how he found out about me or you or where I lived but after the first time, then you, he knew somehow we were connected. He said he would kill me if I didn’t tell him where you lived. I told him I didn’t know and he did this to me” Chimamanda explained, before raising the hand of her long sleeved shirt. She revealed the wounds on her left wrist and two fingers. There were stories for each of them. “These were just the minor ones” she said, hinting there were others she was unwilling to reveal.
“Then how did he find out I was at or going to be at a fictional Olubade Crescent?” Agnes asked, unsympathetic to what the girl had showed her. How could 2 dead bodies feel pity for each other when in same condition?
“He asked me to get you there or he would kill me. I didn’t know the street didn’t exist” Chimamanda answered, “I wanted to save you but…” “…what?”
“I know you did this for a story” Chimamanda changed the subject knowing she’d rather be doing more harm to herself than good if she continued on the topic. She was trying to save her skin here and making her assailant mad, wouldn’t help that fact, “The masked vengeful guy or whatever they call him…you did this to know if he existed” she said much to Agnes’ awe. Agnes wanted to laugh but had to rain check on it, “Your assistant came by and I added two and two together. That guy would get you killed if you continue chasing after him for a story. Your life is worth more than a blog” Chimamanda continued, looking at Agnes once in a while to catch her expression but instead met her fiery gaze.

For one, Agnes had wondered how it was that Chimamanda or Eulogy got to know her but now with the mention of ‘assistant’, she knew Damilola had gotten her into more problems than she would have ever thought.
“You should forget about him. Forget he ever existed…believe you are sick” Chimamanda continued, holding Agnes by the shoulder, “…and you are sick” she advised.
Irritated, Agnes forced Chimamanda’s grip off her. She paused for some seconds to stare at her before shaking her head. This girl had succeeded in insulting her 2 times without her doing anything about it. What other worse insult was there for the girl to lay on her after labeling her insane? Agnes thought, admitting one way or the other she had finished her.
“You should be wary of your boyfriend” Agnes thought to say, with it being the only thing she could ever think of that wouldn’t leave a smile on the girl’s face once she had left. “…since he doesn’t wear mask, you may not know if he has some kind of spirit in him. Vengeful spirit” she continued before turning to leave.
Just as she had wanted, she got the expression she wanted from Chimamanda, “What do you mean?” “Am sick…” Agnes turned to answer pointing at her head; signifying insanity. Turning her eyes away, she halted to give Chimamanda one last look. “Goodbye” she said in a ditzy voice before leaving.

Chimamanda stood still watching Agnes walk out through the door as she found the act strange. Was she right all along? The cryptic statement Agnes said juggled within her but she knew she couldn’t chase her to find the meaning; if there was a sense in it in the first place. Once outside, Agnes stopped the application on her phone that had ‘Audio recorder’ on its screen. She went straight to her contacts clicking on the name ‘Chuks’.
“Hello…! Chuks are you in the office?” she said after placing the phone closer to her ear. From the speaker, the receiver’s voice echoed, “Ehm, no”
“Okay. Can I meet you tomorrow?” Agnes asked.

In a wild moment, Chuks thought of the answer as he looked at the nurses, the patients and doctors walking about in the hospital building, “Maybe at the office?” Agnes instead suggested his response for him as he listened to her voice from the call line.
“Maybe…okay, okay let’s meet tomorrow” he answered before cutting the line.
In that moment, he felt like Saint Christopher who felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, and everything going through his mind including the noise. He sighed.
“Is the girl alright?” he stood up immediately to ask on spotting a familiar nurse. The lady didn’t answer him though. “Mr. Felix…” a voice came that instance from behind that wasn’t his. He turned back to see it was in his direction, and to his shock, was the doctor in front of him. “You should go home. We would call you if there is any improvement. Your daughter is in safe hands” the woman said. Sighing, he looked at the woman then the door she came out of to smile to the humor of the girl he brought being thought as his daughter. He found he couldn’t quite smile though seeing as there was a lot on his plate. He had to raise a nod to humor the woman. Blinking, he moved closer to the doctor before turning to the opposite direction she stood to look at the window in front of him. “Thank you…” he greeted while facing the view of a helpless child patient sleeping so peacefully on a sick bed despite her condition. He sighed again before turning to leave.

From a hidden axis of the hospital, Yusuf stood watching Chuks take his exit, unable to take eyes off him till he was gone. Even at that, his gaze was still on the direction he took.
Inhaling the cool air ushered in by the air conditioner, Yusuf let out a deep breath to usher in the wind while posing to make a run. With few steps with his feet while in a running stride, Yusuf found himself standing by the door Chuks was earlier in front of. It was a room that had been distances from him but only took 2 steps of his feet to get there.
Exhaling out after seeing what he wanted—which was the girl, he made his way out immediately without a second thought; the same way he had ran to the door. A nurse came right out that minute through the door opposite to see the winds buzz and a blur run off. The night was here, she thought; and it was playing tricks on her eyes, she yawned.

“Everyone has. But no one believes, most especially the tales surrounding him and those who tell them” Timothy said. By then he realized he hadn’t grant his guest the courtesy of sitting down. A great deal of shame besieged him, “But I believe them though” he whispered before gesturing to Agnes to take a seat. It wasn’t after he had taken a seat himself though. Bastard—Agnes thought “So what happened?” “He killed those guys” Agnes answered, before going on to explain “…like they were nothing. As if they were not even human beings at all. He did it without pity, without mercy”
“Would you have preferred if he did it with mercy?” Timothy asked. Agnes struggled for a response only to figure out in time it was rather a rhetorical question. Killing them with or without mercy meant nothing if they ended up dead, “As much as am not trying to defend him, I think he did the right thing. Sparing the community one dangerous thug” he said, cementing the fact and the idea he supported whoever was the said lunatic under the mask.

Shocked, Agnes looked on. “You need to see what he did, right in my eyes. It was heartless” she stated. “You said it yourself, he saved you. Would you have preferred otherwise? Or him letting them kill you?” the question struck. Agnes found that hard to answer but then, she wasn’t going to ignore it.“Am not saying that” she quipped “But why not just leave them for the police?” she asked, “Call the police or just leave it at that? Why go to the extent of doing what he did if he also wasn’t a cultist?” Agnes continued before stating the hard fact. A fact to which the guy looked down at the tiles then at Agnes to be sure was correct. “I don’t believe this guy is doing any good, I think it’s part of some cult vendetta; him, Eulogy and some other guys. It’s evident” she explained. By now, Agnes started taking note of Timothy’s expressions and reactions. There was something all too familiar about him. “I don’t think so” he replied, “I support him killing that Eulogy guy. Am happy he did” Timothy revealed. The voice! Agnes suddenly realized. It was his voice she had found all too familiar; but from where? That instance she brought out her phone. She tapped it thrice and started an application, “If he had left them for the police, believe me those guys would have been back. And they would have returned for you, again. Who knows, we may not be having this conversation now” he shrugged.

That was another clue, Agnes noticed. “You think what he did would solve that problem?” she asked. “If what he did can’t solve that problem, then what makes you think the police could?” he rephrased, taking Agnes off balance. He lowered his eyebrows gesturing the ‘I told you so’ line.
Regaining balance, Agnes went on, “They are legalized. They account for what they do. This guy, no one knows him or anything about him” she notified, revealing she wasn’t going to be taken off her stance. Not again.
Sighing, the guy looked on with a firm but calm stare. He allowed minutes pass by before opening his mouth, “Sometimes, in a jungle, jungle justice is required” he ended up saying.
Surprised, Agnes realized she had heard that exact saying before if not in verbatim. She opened her lips, hoping to ask where he had heard the saying or seen the quote but found her eyes all too wide to enable her lips move beyond that.

“Timothy who are you talking to?” the question came in that minute from some disembodied voice. Agnes found herself rather too concentrated on finding its owner than in replying.
The guy instead opted to answer for Agnes, “No one” he said, much to Agnes’ shock and annoyance; no one? The Timothy turned in time to catch her face, “It’s…” he corrected with an apologetic stare.
“Agnes” Agnes finished for him. That moment the owner of the voice stepped out.
It was the very person Agnes was there for and the girl Timothy was having a scuffle with on the couch before Agnes had turned up. It was the Chimamanda.
“…the lady rumors said was killed by Eulogy” Timothy clarified turning his attention immediately to the Pretty, now standing in front of him. It was like Agnes hadn’t even existed in those moments as he sat staring at the pretty. The yellow gel of jealousy lubricated Agnes’ heart. “Oh!” Chimamanda mouthed taking a seat beside Timothy. Agnes forced herself to smile. “She said the masked vengeful spirit saved her and we were just talking about him” the guy recapped. Vengeful spirit…? Agnes found herself rather too shell shocked than concerned with the conversation as she heard him say the word. “You believe in him too?” Chimamanda asked.
“Masked vengeful spirit?” Agnes voiced out, ignoring the girl’s question.
“That’s what we call him” Timothy explained.
“Well, I call him Chappi” Agnes revealed, much to the humor of the two.
“Don’t tell me you believe in those crazy tales?” Chimamanda quipped much to Agnes’ humor. She wanted not replying but had to due to the ‘crazy tale’ she used in defining Chappi. Was the guy now a crazy tale to Chimamanda? She wondered, remembering why she was there and what brought her.
“Would you like to excuse us please?” Agnes broke her silence to Timothy. She did that much to the annoyance of Chimamanda. “Excuse me?” she rose up to bark, commanding Timothy with her pitch to rather do the otherwise than comply. Confused, the Timothy found himself asking the most predictable question, “What?” like one whose fate depended on 2 girls. “Hope there’s nothing wrong going on between the two of you?”
“No” Chimamanda answered; “You tell me…” she turned to Timothy who found himself rather taken aback. How is this now about him? She knew why she was there, Agnes thought as released a smile on her face. Chimamanda would do everything in her power to defend herself from anything including fear.
“Would you excuse the two of us please?” Agnes said again but this time, in a polite gesture to Timothy contrary to how Chimamanda did. He was seemingly too pleased to be far off from the 2 girls that minute.

Timothy found something strange going on with her eyes as he stared at them longingly. Even the sun no doubt thought the same from up high as it peered on them.
The girl returning Timothy’s stare, wondered if he was scared or was hesitant. She blinked again before nodding to give him the green go a second time hoping he would see it and take it.
Pulling her head in his hands immediately, Timothy smiled after seeing the sign. He caressed her lips gently before bringing his mouth forward to it. Within a second, he had managed to rub off the lip stick painting her lips with a brush of his tongue. He raised his head to see if she would get mad for that but she didn’t. Instead, she pulled her legs in a cross section against his back hinting at another signal. Seeing the cue, Timothy went further, removing his grip off her face then gently swiped his hands to her back in a similar fashion, though in reversal of the girl’s action. He caressed her back softly, raising it up and down while enjoying the sensation till he felt the tight fabric covering her buttocks. Without a second thought, he pulled it off then compensated the act with a kiss on her lips like he did the first time. Still, she picked no offence. Instead, she nodded again.

Taking the go ahead to launch phase 3, Timothy pulled his hands from the girl’s ass after a gentle massage. He transferred them to her breasts that were lacking a bra, doing the same thing as he watched the girl smile.
When it was obvious she couldn’t take it anymore, she yelped pulling at the guy. Phase 3 was moving according to plan, he acknowledged. He felt its intensity from the girl’s heartbeat as he saw her breasts rise in his palms. He smooched and smacked at them time and time and again to be sure the heart rate was in order. From the couch they laid on, Timothy was like a doctor administering a patient, and in a case like this, he went through any surgical means necessary.
Even if that meant squeezing the life out of her breasts or pulling her neck over to the couch’s handle. When phase 3 was done, which by then the girl was admittedly tired of, Timothy moved to caress her neck before lubricating it with his tongue. The girl’s nipples struck him hard on his chest the very moment he did that, sending him into shock. They struck in a way they had never done before. It went to great lengths raising the last inch of his manhood; the very essence of his existence. It was time for phase 5, the girl informed as she nodded. Timothy found it the right moment to pull down his boxer. Now, they were equals; so much for the gender equality they went through great lengths achieving.

The girl looked at Timothy’s essence of existence to be shocked wondering if it was the right decision. It stared back at her to tell her it was but she shouldn’t hope for equity as there wasn’t going to be fairness. The girl nodded. Bleep fairness; no one likes fairness, the world is cruel, she thought.
Smiling to that, Timothy knew the time was right to penetrate into phase 5. But then, the girl raised her hand to stop him. “What?” Timothy frowned seeing his years of service were amounting to nothing.
“Hard…” the girl whispered before releasing her grip, “Hard” she said again as Timothy smiled. With the herculean strength left in him, he thrust ‘hard’ the essence of his existence into her hole of reality with hopes of fixing history. Like any job, it felt hard at first but in the course of it, dedication made it easy.
Slow and steady, they said. Slow and steady they went and they moaned in every moment to the ecstasy of things. Timothy kept his gaze on, pushing, smooching and manipulating his way through hoping to reach the high ends. Then, Time came into the matter like it always did. The pinnacle ruined everything.
Out through the door came the sound and the hand that had knocked on it. The hand was smooth, fair with the owner being Agnes. She stood at the centre of it, hoping to make meaning from the silence that was the entire house despite the gate being flat out open and television sounding loud inside.
She had been there for five minutes, knocking and listening to the music that was beating inside yet with no answer from whomever or an effort towards checking out who it was at the door.
“Hello…!” she yelled, “Is anybody in?” she asked for the fourth time.

Then it struck her to ask herself what she was doing there. It was the first time she ever asked herself the question. Every of her visits to any one had a purpose but this, why?
“Mother Mary!” Timothy opened the door immediately just to chant the religious phrase on sighting Agnes who raised her eyes to look at him. It was providence that held him from shutting the door back, and it was same providence that forced him to yell again, “Oliver Christ!” like one who had seen a ghost and was recounting a worst experience.
Agnes also sensing same shock in her stuttered, wondering if in some way she had snuck into the wrong house or had somehow died along the way. The man’s shirtless-ness gave her a clue as she continued staring.
“Am sorry” he apologized, “Am sorry for that” he continued, seeing he had one way or the other offended his visitor, “Am sorry but are you not the lady rumors were circulating Eulogy killed people in Mushin to find?” he asked, revealing he had the right reason to exclaim and even fret. “Excuse me…?” Agnes feigned confusion. It was too early to reveal her reasons for being there and feigning confusion was the right way in fooling the guy off. He wasn’t the one she was after by the way.
“They said you were dead. The rumors even went saying they succeeded in killing you after some guys saw you get caught by the cultist Eulogy at Iyana Ipaja” the guy stated.

Still, Timothy was persistent. He did that for a reason though and as he did, Agnes first wondered who he was, how he knew her and why he was so much vested in the stories.
“It’s a lie” Agnes lied, halfway “Is Chimamanda in?” she added, changing the subject, “Is this where she lives?” “Yeah” Timothy nodded, seeing the picture written over Agnes to back off, “Yeah, what happened?” he nodded again. “I need to talk to her” Agnes answered looking at him.
For one, there was something familiar about him and for another she couldn’t tell what it was. His physique, his… “You can come in” he invited, leaving the space open for entrance. It was the only the courtesy he knew. Hesitant, Agnes looked at him to be sure and to think things through. She turned around to know if she knew her way out before thinking of accepting the offer. She did.

Stepping into the house, came another sensation for her. The first thing she noticed were things being uncharacteristically in order not, and not because order was wanted but because someone was expected. As if they knew she was coming. The living room smelt nice and Agnes had to wonder if actually she was safe.
There were a few differences though, like the couch out of other things, being in disarray and the guy just picking up his shirt off the floor and putting it on. Something went on, she concluded. “Where is Chimamanda?” she asked.
“So what happened? They said the cultist killed you. Those within the vicinity said they took pictures of what happened and it was dead bodies lying around, Eulogy included except you” Timothy went back saying, ignoring the back off glare Agnes had earlier given, “Some came up with theories that it was a rivalry among cult gangs and that you, were a member of one. And your group came in to take your body for burial leaving the thug and his boys bodies as warning” he continued, with Agnes seeing bits of what he said being funny and same time, serious. She thought to break her silence but found herself falling back to it. Agnes instead decided it best to give the guy a long stare; “The police are on the case but…” Timothy added only to pause after his revelation. It was then Agnes saw the warning that said speak now or forever remain silent.
“But what?” she asked, only to cut him short before he could respond, “Wait…I need to end these rumors once and for all” she notified raising her index finger. “Am not in any cult group or secret society or anything like that. I am too big for that. Eulogy came to attack me and some lunatic showed up. I had nothing to do with their deaths” she pointed out, nodding along the way to ensure the guy understood what she said.

Instead, he stood eye blank waiting for more. No one could comprehend all that especially the lunatic part. Acknowledging the fact, Agnes went on, “As funny as it sounds, a lunatic saved me by killing those guys”
“A lunatic?” Timothy rephrased, with a question. He pulled up a newspaper from a stool next to him before turning to Agnes. “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me” Agnes admitted, “Is Chimamanda in?” she decided to change the topic. But the guy was rather insistent they maintained the topic, “Do you mean the guy in a mask that has been masquerading at night?” he asked, “It’s ridiculous” he admitted.
“You’ve heard of him?” Agnes somewhat felt embarrassed but thought it best not to shy from the fact.

“Because it’s their job and they deserved to be paid. That’s why they were employed” Funke vehemently answered, “I wouldn’t expect a friend to pay me for saving him from a snake because he is a friend and it’s not a job and it’s less dangerous” she added in parable form. “But aren’t the police referred to as public servants and a citizen’s friend? So what then are the benefits of friends?” the figure said realizing the page the lady had opened and was on. He thought it best to follow suit and read along.
Confused, Funke theorized within her mind then saw the need to change the topic but not the subject. “So you are a vigilante?” she asked though still keeping tabs on her other theories.
The figure looked at Funke, the candles then the entire room. He asked himself the same question but he found no answer to it. “A public servant” he muttered.

The room was widely lit of candles but then Funke couldn’t help being drawn to the darker side of the room; the side which the reading desk and books were shelved and a strange shadowy figure that wasn’t her’s stood.
She wasn’t a bookworm but then again she couldn’t stop the urge of staring at the books on the desk as they kept moving time and time again from where they were placed. Although it was dark, Funke found comfort staring at it as she tried to decode the mystery surrounding it. “Did he send you…?” she began, albeit slowly to the shadowy figure. Her voice though being mild, was enough to be heard at night but then the figure rather proved it to be the opposite with his refusal to answer.

The figure shifted from the position he stood to a far darker corner. Funke didn’t stop her eyes from following him though. “I don’t have it” she said again but this time in a different phrase, “…the files. They took it. The robbers, they shot me before I could do anything” she swallowed her saliva picking her words as she lay on the mattress.
The figure picking offence with the fact the girl couldn’t shut up, turned to give Funke a glare before turning to another position while still mute. “I swear I wasn’t trying to run” Funke chimed in again; this time much to the figure’s annoyance.
Can’t she shut up for once? It turned to ask only to end up glaring at Funke for the third time. He instead slammed his hand on a surface to send the message of his annoyance though careful to not let his anger get the better off him.

Funke on the other hand felt she had every justification to question him seeing as he was the one who brought her there and without any word to indicate her fate. Who does he think he is? “Jesus…you can atleast tell me why am here” she sparked out airing her frustration and annoyance.
One thing, she was quick to let her feelings out than in controlling them, another, she was quick to calming and apologizing. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked, setting her voice for a benevolent tone. It was her apology.
The figure caring less and more vested in his own peace of mind, turned to Funke point blank for the first time since she had woken, “You are here because you were shot and believe me once you are recovered, you will be out of here” he said; his voice taking over the entirety of the room and Funke herself.
“So he sent you?” she maintained her benevolent tone seeing as it was what the figure replied to; her question though was triggered by her fears of the unknown and what lies ahead.

Irritated but rather puzzled, the figure halted his mind to for once understand the girl and to know if she just acted like that based on some psychosis or hidden fear. “Who sent me?” he returned the question though directing it back at her.
“Your master on the wheelchair” she responded. Unlike he was, she was quick in answering a question directed at her, “He knew what the risk was yet he asked me to do the mission…” she continued but this time increasing her voice pitch to pour out her thoughts.
“What mission?” the figure in the dark interrupted, stepping out of the dark halfway. It was now he was picking interest in her gibbers. But Funke somewhat sensing foul somewhere, knew when to pause, “Are you not one of Patrick’s boys?” she fired. Forced to step back into the dark, the figure knew he had to be more tactical, “Yes…” he said, stepping back into the gloomy light, “What happened?” he questioned, with Funke staring at him; his mask on and eyes howling.

Funke couldn’t see it though, but she could see something he couldn’t. “You are lying” she pointed out, “Who are you?” “Who is Patrick?” the masked figure rephrased.
Funke knew then she had to up her game if she wasn’t ready to be at war on two fronts. This guy was already imposing as he was. “Nobody” she muttered returning her eyes to the shelved books to avoid the figure somehow figuring out if she was being honest.
“Nobody?” the figure asked, turning her response to a question. He sighed looking at Funke. “Am sure if he was nobody you wouldn’t have been scared ever since I got you out of Silverbird” he revealed, folding his arms, “Look if you are in any trouble, danger, it’s best you let the police or anybody know” he lowered his pitch and tone to advise. “I can’t keep you here once you are recovered” he added before turning his back literally on Funke.
Funke felt her chest bump, “No one or the police can help me…” she notified, feeling the urge to open up. “The man is beyond police or law” “A politician?”
“I wish he was just that” Funke said with a sigh.

That moment the masked figure turned his back away from Funke to directly face her upfront. He has had his own fair run in with people like that.
“Why is he after you?” he asked, eyes clearly pointed at the girl. It was later on he realized in his lust for what lurked within the girl’s eyes, he had shifted from his position and was now standing by the open window.
Just then, Funke realized no matter how much she wanted to pour out her feelings, she just couldn’t, yet. She wasn’t sure of this guy yet. He could be who or he could be not.
“I…” she scuffled within her for what to say; Maybe the half-truth? “There is…” she began only to stop. The masked figure folded his arms as his concentrations were on her. He even went to the extent of testifying to the fact as he leaned against the wall by the window. “Hmm” he sighed as he realized his attention was only met with disappointment, “I there is?” he mocked, “So this Thomas…”
“Patrick” Funke corrected; hinting to the masked figure she wasn’t over his jibe but was only waiting for whatever he had to say. “So this Patrick is after you because you are the only one he sees. Is he asking for your hand in marriage and now after you because you said ‘No’?” he continued; showing subtly through his mockery he cared less over how she felt, “Is he a Hausa Alhaji?”
“He is an evil man who wants me to do bad things for him” Funke rebuked,
“Like what…?” the figure folded his arms again, crossing his legs this time. He had hopefully found his interests. Funke on the other hand felt the need to be extra careful on how she responded, considering she knew nothing about the masked man except that he was a Dick. “Kill people, blackmail people. Steal something from Silverbird. Now that I failed he has sent his men to find me and lock me up or kill me if possible” she said.

At first she picked her words but later on, she thought it best to emphasize the fact that she didn’t know whom he was or was she going to trust him.
Sighing upon realizing that fact, the figure turned to the most obvious question for answer, “Why?” he said. “I don’t know”
“What did he ask you to steal? A DVD cassette…?” the figure scoffed.
“I don’t know”
Confused and somewhat annoyed with the ‘I don’t know’ responses, the figure found himself hanging on the next most important though predictable question, “How did you come by this man again?” he dropped, puzzling Funke who rose halfway from the bed in awe at the questions, “How did he find you?” the figure asked again.
“Why are you asking? Will you protect me from him?” provoked, Funke laid her questions forcing the figure to step back again, “No one can” Funke assured.

Taking a step further backwards on hearing what Funke had said, the figure stopped for a second, “Am just asking. Maybe we can report to the police” he theorized.
“You don’t know what you are saying”
“Enlighten me please” the masked man said, taking what Funke had said to be a jibe. To the girl on the other hand, it was the plain truth. “This man has connections with the government. You think the police can catch him if they wanted to? He killed Senator Daniel West and nobody has done anything about it” Funke explained only to end up wondering if she believed what she said to be true, why then had she called the police at Silverbird.
“Who is Daniel West?” the question phased as the figure folded his arms awaiting its answer. “The man to have been President Come May, had he not died” Funke answered, bringing another thought to the figure. He shifted from his position only to return back again. The elections were coming and so were the massive fest of innocent blood to be spilled. “I was a circus performer in Paris” Funke started, readjusting herself on the mattress after thinking things through. How worse could it be? She asked, “…and into drugs. Then I got caught by law enforcement agents in Paris. Patrick came promising to get me out and help me if I agreed to do few things for him” she looked at the figure before turning to the candles, reminiscing how bright they burnt like the bulbs in her prison cell or those at the theatre stage in Paris. “I was in a point and place I couldn’t reject the offer. I accepted without knowing what the few things were. And when I did, I had no choice but to do them. But each time I did them, each time his wish list increased” she revealed.

By then the figure realized there were more problems in the world than his, “So this Patrick was blackmailing you?” he theorized. Instead of Funke giving a straight response, she decided to twist it “If you are not working for Patrick why are you wearing a mask?” she dropped.
It was then the figure realized he was wearing a mask. He touched it to feel its texture. It had been long he had put the mask on his face, now it felt more like his real face than anything. The happy grin there, clouding his real face. He thought to remove it but decided against it. “How did you know the galleria was under attack? Why were you even there?” he came around to knowing Funke was still watching early enough before being shocked at her questions. He turned away from where he stood immediately, to the dark. “Am sorry if am bothering you but with what I have been through, it’s hard for me to trust anyone” Funke apologized. She had seemed to master when he got angry and how best to comfort him.
“I knew of the attack because it was a famous plaza and it belonged to a friend. I couldn’t just let it be ransacked by hoodlums” he answered from the dark only to turn to see Funke expecting more, “…and I went to save someone”

Funke immediately felt flattered, “Who?” she asked.
“It turned out she wasn’t in the building”
“Are you in the police or something?” Funke changed the subject and topic surprising the figure. “Why?”
“You saying you went to safe someone” she reintroduced the subject once more taking the figure unawares. “Saving someone doesn’t have to be just the work of the police” the figure was careful with his response, “And it doesn’t just suit the Nigerian police if we were to put it that way” he added to convince the lady.
Funke on the other hand found another topic to debate on, “Maybe because they aren’t being paid enough” she said. “Would you expect to be paid after saving a friend from being bitten by a snake?” the figure dropped, startling Funke who stared eyes wide wondering how to answer it.
“Yes” she said flatly. The figure was shocked into coming to the light due to her response. “No! No, no” she rephrased. “What’s your name?” the figure asked point blank. Funke found herself startled that she rested her back on something. “Eh…” she thought, “Rose Mary” she answered, with the word being the first thing she came up with. Was there any doubt? The figure thought, knowing that minute where the mentality and notion of the lady came from. “Then why would you expect the police to be paid more for preventing people from falling victim to a homicide?” he asked.

“How did you know where to find me?” Leader asked behind the door referring to Agnes who was still outside. “You are a drug smuggler. It’s where you would be” she replied at the top pitch of her voice ensuring the metallic door recoiled it should he not hear what she said at first.
Amused but same time in fear, Leader felt it best to open the door; first to not be tagged a coward later on by his friends and second, to give them ample time to do what they wanted to do.
“It’s where you hide out…” Agnes said as Leader opened the door on her, “What? Busy counting the money you duped people out of…?” she asked staring at him. It was the kind of stare that said ‘give me an explanation or settle for the worst’
“Look, am sorry. I heard the stories okay. I couldn’t risk being killed for fifty thousand naira by something that’s not human” Leader apologized with a hint of sarcasm.

Agnes saw the sarcasm, and thus dropped any intent of asking if he finally believed the stories, “But you could risk letting someone die for fifty thousand naira” she retorted rather than accept the mock apology at face value. Leader glanced at the floor for a minute before returning his gaze, “My God, it was just an act. You could have told me if you weren’t going to be up to it” “By then I didn’t know you were going after the guy!” Leader sparked, “…the guy has wounded a lot of people, left them to a condition worse than death. Going out there to play an act would make less of a difference to him. He would have killed us and of what use would the fifty grand be then? You would have lived just like you are now” Leader rather went on, maintaining his plea for innocence. But then that wasn’t enough reason to have Agnes convinced, “This guy killed Eulogy for Christ sake. The most feared guy in Mushin” he continued. “And the second time…?” Agnes asked forcing the guy into silence. He looked down wondering what second time she was talking about or if there was even a second time. “That wasn’t my fault” he proclaimed. Which one was his fault then? Agnes thought, “You didn’t say we should protect you from Eulogy, whose trouble you looked for” Leader defended before going to clarify his statement, “…and by no means were we going to interfere in a cult related fight or quarrel” he said.
“I didn’t look for Eulogy’s trouble” Agnes felt the need to correct.
“That was what we heard he told the rival gang before he killed them” Leader rather insisted. “And yet you failed to let me know in time…do you see this?” Agnes pulled up her sweater to reveal the left side of her belly; the position she was stabbed that was now developing into a flesh wound, “That was how close I was to being killed” she disclosed.

Leader looked at it just to feel his blood cells dry up and his tongue yawn for water, “Am sorry” he forced out, “Eulogy…he has connections with politicians. No matter how rough he looked. We didn’t want any trouble with the law enforcement or new enemies” Leader said looking at Agnes again, “We didn’t…know you’d go on with the plan. We thought after some digging on your own you would be the first to give it up” he continued then stopped. He turned to look at the door to be sure he had at first closed it and Agnes hadn’t somehow peeked inside. “Someone set you up” he whispered.
At first Agnes had debated on what to do to Tompolo if she hadn’t done what she did but then, found he was more useful than he had led her to believe, “Who…?” she asked head straight.
“A girl…her name is Chimamanda. Have you heard the name before?” he said before posing the question. Of course, “She lives at…am coming” Leader had continued only to end up pausing as he glared around before going back inside through the door.

It only took one thing to get Agnes interested, and this, was essentially it. She waited, knowing full well Leader would return. He did, and with a piece of paper in hand and a pen. He handed the paper to Agnes.
“How do I know am not being set up this time?” she asked after taking a peek at the paper. “On my father’s grave” Leader replied. That was gross; Agnes stared awestruck seeing how grave that comment was. “You deserve justice” he explained; “I want you to get justice” he ended, leaving Agnes to nod at the thought.

There was honor in this guy, Agnes admitted as she released a fake smirk on her face to Tompolo. “You should run. I called the police and they are coming” she notified before turning to leave.
Leader had at first thought of going back inside once he was done with the conversation to go arrange the crates and cash but on hearing what the lady had laid on him, knew he had to reschedule.
He looked at the leaving Agnes to hear the sounds of sirens. And instead of standing to listen to its noise or contemplate on his bulging thoughts, he went with his first wave of instinct; which was to run. He took the last chance he had to look at Agnes; a wasted opportunity to take a hostage should things go south, he thought.

CAN’T TRUST ANYONE THESE DAYS, CAN YOU?
Some say slums are dirty places; others say they are where poor people stay.
Well for the sake of getting facts straight, one wouldn’t purport to call those statements true or false. By saying they were true, prevents Mile 2 from being called a slum; because in this neighbourhood, the term ‘poverty’ was just a cover up. No one was poor here; everyone counted money even more than those staying at VI, but the thing was no one showed the evidence of it. They all preferred walking about nodding in signature codes while pocketing their hands and avoiding glamorous questions.

That was a dividing factor, as asking questions led to the why, the how and the what-ifs, and that alone proved one didn’t belong. And by belonging didn’t necessarily mean being a part of the neighborhood or not being a part of it, but not belonging to a life of crime. Everyone here was a criminal. And because of this, everyone had each other’s back.
Agnes knew this. And as she walked across that neighborhood, she avoided looking anyone in the eye to ensure the consciousness of not being spotted as an outsider. But that didn’t stop on lookers from looking. The guys puffed their cigarettes and stared, awed by their imaginations while their girls cursed with their foul mouths. It was morning, so it was safe to say they hadn’t brushed their teeth yet. Agnes paid no attention to them though; she was rather keen on getting to her destination. Something, which was a little rather difficult as everything and everywhere, appeared the same.

There was no space to determine or point out any difference between each building. All buildings were hinged and muddled like a gin joint. The only spaces there were the pathways through which everyone passed.
Agnes wasn’t going to let that deceive her though. She took a narrow junction that was hidden, walking by it and coming across face me-face you homes. She didn’t fail to scan each house with uncanny eyes though.
Though the structures were old, they were far from being considered archaic; they were modern and sophisticated in their own way as it didn’t ridicule the fact that everyone had class.
Agnes immediately stopped by a 5 flat story-building with spiral staircase; to be sure it was the real deal. She shook her head after minutes of debating before climbing the stairs. It took her some time but she finally got to the 3rd floor. But by then a robust guy had come down to block her way. The door was only 3 paces in front of her.

This was where their business was taking place, Agnes thought looking at the yellow guy whose chin resembled those who lived in the South-eastern part of Nigeria.
“Tell Tompolo sai person dey here dey find am” she said with an Igbo accent.
Confused and amazed by this stranger’s sass, the robust guy thought to give the lady standing in front of him a second look to know where the sass came from. What he saw, he couldn’t tell, reason being the lady was wearing a sweater and a head warmer. But he liked what he saw though.
“Who be you?” the guy replied in a perfected Onitsha accent that Agnes had to take a step back. “Someone” she answered, “Tell Tompolo sai I want see am, and make him dey fast” Agnes restated, improvising a serious face. Like the Igbo girl she was, she made sure the muscles on her face were strong.
The robust guy struck by the look, turned back to the door then back at Agnes. He resolved to go inside through the door when he found he had nothing to say.

Agnes stepped up to cover the space left between her and the door once the guy had jammed it. She sighed. For one the robust guy had many thoughts running through him concerning Agnes’ identity but instead, he felt it was best keeping it to himself.
Inside; which was behind the door facing Agnes, was another world on its own. A world independent to be self-governing, and indeed it showed such evidence, as it clearly practiced ‘democracy’. There was federalism and same time decentralization and checks and balances. This came from the atmosphere of there being large crowds of people who took orders from the centre. The centre which was represented by a tall guy seated with 3 guys counting raw cash. And from the orders they took, disseminated it to the others.
The only difference between the order and normal government laws was that this order was money; the raw cash which they counted. And by ‘they’ one meant the ‘Federal Government’.
“One…two…three…four, five…” the tall guy at the centre counted, “Na fifty grand be this” he said handing bundles of naira notes to a short guy.
“Hold this one” the short guy in turn replied, giving his own bundle to the tall guy. The guy looked at it then at the short guy, expectant of something which seemed to fall short.
“How much be this?” he asked,
“Na 200 k”

The tall guy wanted collecting the money but paused, “You sure? I no want any mix up oh. Arrange the money as you count am, make we give chief him thing oh. I no want any wahala. Na government man him be, anything happen, na jail straight and nothing go do am upon say na him get the job” he warned, making clear his opinion before collecting the cash. He dropped it. “The money complete” the short guy said frowning, his frown being a remark on the leader’s suspicion. He didn’t fail to look at the cash before leaving. He imagined all he would do with all that money were it to be in his possession. The short guy had a massive wish list that he wasn’t sure if the money would be enough.
“Guy leader…” the robust yellow guy who had attended to Agnes came calling, “Them dey find you” he dropped the message upon coming closer to the tall guy; the one he referred to as Leader.
The other guy seated close to leader gave him a stare; signaling nothing good ever came with such statement. Leader returned the stare, admitting the fact.
“Yhellow…who…?”Leader asked, with his lips parting to form an O.
“I no know” Yhellow replied. Fear somehow had inadvertently caught up with him and he was only calming himself from showing it, “Na one chick like that” he said, calming himself with the statement.

He acknowledged to himself the fact that whatever it was wasn’t going to be a girl that will bring him down or make him scared. Leader didn’t reason it that way though, one way or the other, fear had already taken him over, “Chick?” he shook his head. It took some time to master the courage to stand and even at then, it took him another to move. When he did, he hastened his steps behind Yhellow. Yhellow sensing his plan, halted halfway to the door. He instead pointed the way not ready to be the collateral damage if anything went south. Leader looked up at Yhellow realizing his plan wasn’t going to work.
Forced to man up, Leader pulled open the metal door. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a second to calm his mind and let everything settle before letting new things in. With a second sigh, he opened his eyes. The first thing he met was Agnes’ devilish stare swinging right at him before he could twitch.
“Jesus!” was all he could say. With a spontaneous effort to understand what was happening, he banged the door in front of him, locking Agnes out.

If it wasn’t for the Harmattan, Leader would have found himself perspiring that instance. That didn’t stop him from breathing out heavily and excessively though, “The crates. Make una pack am. Pack the crates” he commanded, discovering strength within his fears to point and shout at the scattered crates across the room and his guys.
The command sending all up and running, acknowledged the fact that fear ruled everyone instead of Leader. Leader was just the grand puppet.

So sorry keeping you all waiting...
Let's ride