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Adventure Black Crime

The park is a plot of land shared into two. Two rooms was erected on half which serve as a ticketing office and the other as a packing store. Long desks were placed infront of the ticket office and it acts as waiting area for the passenagers. The other half of the plot was acting as loading and packing places for the wagons mainly sienna products. Due to lack of space, the saloons load in turns. I am not all that sure that there is toilet facility there as I sat there waiting for our bus that will take us to Onitsha after Covid-19 lockdown was called off. 

It wasn’t long before our driver called for us to board for the park was swarming with passenger that very first day of July. Driver was actually the one positioning passengers for their tickets were not numbered. The man put infront seat refused to sit there claiming careless driving as excuse. He preferred middle seat,he believed that death always comes from the front at times, from the back. So, in his calculation, middle seats are the most secure of all the positions. I was put at the back seat probably because of my stature.

It will be nice for me to introduce myself at this stage of the story. My name is Mr. Jadel Okoro Esq. I am 180cm in height, slim, I weigh about 70kg when I am healthy which is often less most of the time. My beads and hairs are full of white that are battling to out numbers the blacks probably due to old age or lack of diet. I am 48. Saggitarius and public adminstrator. Apart from my nysc year, I have not worked in any organised setting, so I have never administered anything acutally whether in private or public, by nature, I am esquire. I like that title, no one will ask envious questions without appearing stupid. I am an importer and an introvert too.

I recently returned from abroad where I spent years buying and exporting things back to Nigeria. I found out that while abroad, my host country don’t feel comfortable with me around, they were wondering what kind of creature I am. I myself was wondering what is wrong with them. They were wondering why I am not a type, my going and coming don’t confirmed to their knowledge of black race, therefore, I was used as a researchable object for a decade. 

Enough of myself, our driver seem to be careful type, so, there was no need for middle position passengers to worry about. After two hours, we stopped at a filling station in Benin City and every passenger used the opportunity to ease ourselves and refreshed up. Our middle seat guy seems to be having internal problem. He was the only one that asked the driver to stop for him to ease himself on two different occasions before we got to benin. over there in Benin, he was the one that delayed our journey longer than necessary buying medicine for stomach problem.

Our journey continued smoothly till we entered delta state. The officers there seems to be wishing that the lockdown was never lifted. They were everywhere on the road, one asked our driver to park well, meaning that he should pack by the side of the road.

“Why are you not stopping when I asked you to?”

“I was stopping”

"Stopping", why do you people think we are here for?"

" Why?, For us sir," 

“For you?, where is your ticket?”

Driver handed him hundred naira

“You slow down on roadblocks, do you hear me?”

“Yes , sir?

“Go go, go”

We got to Onitsha around 5:20p.m and I must confess that I am impressed with the changes 0n the ground. Decade ago, this bridgehead was nothing to write home about. Now, it looked as if the road had been widened, tarred afresh, the drainages looked bigger and deeper, New Parks created and the the environ looked neater too. Houses at both side of the road wore fresh paints. Multitude going up and down and looked neater incomparison with the previous creatures I see around there. The street light has solar system panels on them.

Our middle friend I overheard asking driver if that park is his final stop.

“Yes" he answered

“I paid for journey to owerre not Onitsha, take a look at my ticket” he said.

“I know, I will put you in a bus going to Owerre, I can’t take only you to Owerre”

I left them and found a bus heading to my place from the bridgehead to my palce was about twenty minute drive, and the changes on the structures continued to surprise me. I spent thirty-Something years of my life here and was only absence for a decade, yet I still have little trouble finding my way.

Two weeks later, I first noticed unusual attention being directed at me. As who I am by nature, I don’t like attentions being directed towards me for it means only one thing: “Indicators",

I don’t like indicators too for they means only one thing too, ‘Vilgilance’.

It requires mind game, few days later, I figured out that the couple that lives below me and another couple that live next to my building always bang the door at odd hours of the night and that the gate of the building next to mine always open at the odd hours of the night. I investigated further and found out that officers change duties there that the couple below me and the one next were informants. Informing what?. It happened that my host when I was abroad were still following me like Eyptians followed Israelites during their exodus, what I actually don’t know is if the following was initated through the Interpol or by direct line to Abuja. I suspected the later. They were not trying to figure out if the stealing incident they were investigating and blackmagic was really committed by me for the participants has proven that one beyond reasonable doubt. They ended up stealing two items from me: shopping things and Mp3. Those crayfish were trying to exchange my destiny with theirs. I suspected seriously that it was their modus operandi inside there. They donated more than one million dollars to Nigeria Police to follow me bumper to bumper. The officers inturn made their own promises and the result is every tom anmd harry becoming informant.

Armed robbery from what I heard have reduce to the bearest minimum, but it gained momentum when I came back. how else will someone prove that I am a thief after following me around for months without success, is it not to stage robbery incidents to tell their boss that they are working?. How much budget the department allocated for their filed work, I don’t know. from look of things, the allocaters don’t care too. Result is needed, one million dollars is not one million naria.

Two months ago, I was in my room peacefully, minding my own business, suddenly, I began to hear noises down stairs. Later, I heard that some people passing as thieves raided the stores down stairs and carted away valuable items. I heard that they came with two tricycle popularly known as “Keke”. The insinuations were many and the officers were still changing duties and following me around, investigating physical theft spiritually. Never for a minute tried to found the culprits for they knew that what happened was arranged and that was the second time arranged incident like that took place there. No one have ever accused me of anything. I was forced to enquire if officers have been able to traced those thieves or their tricycle. What effort were they expending towards that direction?.

The officers were busy praying that their effort to frustrate or run me out of existence weren’t yielding result. The informant living below me seems to be trying to extricate himself from the quagmire they are in. The door banging signs seems to have reduced to almost zero, and the one next building has turned to a preacher. The madman will get up by six and start making noise in the street going up and down for ten minutes, preaching Jesus and good manners and get little confused when he has announced that his meassge has come to an end, then something else will enter his mouth and he will preach again for two minute and went inside.

I was wondering who was investigating the people that sent Nigeria Police to investigate me, and why monetary reward was involved in the investigation?. I smelled sars, ridicule, racism, condescending and mockery of this entity call Nigeria and her police. THE MOTTO OF NIGERIAN POLICE IS: “POLICE is your friend”. I was wondering the type of friend they were to the millions of youths that were rampaging not long ago. Sunday, November 29, I came to conclusion that a man that can kill for naira, will not hesitate to massacre for dollar. The weather is not friendly this time of the year, add cheap cigarette and cheap gin to it, the result is always youth protest. 

November 30, 2020 17:27

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1 comment

Laurentz Baker
09:04 Dec 07, 2020

You have a good foundation for four or five different stories. Keep up the good work and continue to develop them.

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