Ride To Riches

CHAPTER TWO: The Invitation to Lagos

Tunde did not sleep much that night.

The black card was still on the table beside his bed.

Rainwater kept dripping from the roof above him.

Every minute thunder would roll through Abuja and shake the walls of the house.

The storm outside was not as bad as the one inside his head.

Fifty million naira.

That number kept repeating in his head.

Fifty million naira is a lot of money.

It is money to change everything.

It is money to move his family out of the slums forever.

It is money to forget the pain that they had been feeling since his father died.

Something about Victor Blanco made Tunde feel uneasy.

Powerful men do not give you things without wanting something

Tunde sat up in bed. I looked at the card again.

The words on it were simple:

BLACK CIRCUIT INVITATIONAL

LAGOS. ONE WEEK

INVITATION

There was an address at the bottom.

No phone number.

No company name.

Nothing else.

Savage woke up on the side of the room and groaned.

"You are still awake?" she asked.

Tunde did not say anything.

She opened one eye. Saw the card in his hand.

"That man who came tonight, " she said. "He looked dangerous."

"He is rich, " Tunde said.

"That is usually the thing, " Savage replied.

Tunde smiled a little.

Savage sat up slowly. I looked at him.

"You are thinking about going, " she said.

"I have to, " Tunde said.

"You do not even know those people, " Savage said.

"I know what it is like to be poor, " Tunde said quietly. "That is enough."

Savage looked down.

The room was silent again except for the sound of rain.

Then she spoke softly.

"If Father were alive..."

Tunde looked away immediately.

"Do not, " he said.

". " Savage started.

"I said do not, " Tunde said sharply.

Savage stopped talking.

Tunde got out of bed. I walked outside.

The air was cold. The sky was getting lighter.

The rain had. The streets were empty.

Abuja looked peaceful from a distance.

Tunde knew that was not true.

There was desperation behind every street.

There was hunger and violence and broken dreams.

Tunde walked to the roadside stand where his mother usually sold pap.

She was already there arranging containers under an umbrella.

She looked tired.

Tunde hated seeing her like that.

She had been fighting life for years and losing.

"You should be resting " Tunde said quietly.

His mother looked up at him.

"And who will feed this family if I rest?" she asked.

Tunde put the card on the table.

Her expression changed immediately.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It is a racing invitation, " Tunde said.

She looked at him carefully.

"More street racing?" she asked.

"No, " Tunde said. "It is bigger than that."

He told her about Victor Blanco and the tournament in Lagos.

The more he talked the more worried she became.

When he finished she shook her head.

"No, " she said.

Tunde frowned.

"No?" he asked.

"You are not going, " his mother said.

Tunde's jaw tightened.

"Mama—" he started.

"These people are dangerous, " his mother said.

"So I'm staying here, " Tunde said.

A few people nearby looked at them.

Tunde lowered his voice.

"We cannot keep living like this, " he said.

"We are surviving, " his mother said.

"No, " Tunde said bitterly. "We are drowning."

His mother looked at him sadly.

"You think money will solve everything, " she said.

"It will solve enough, " Tunde said.

She. I looked away.

"Every time you chase these races I feel like one day you will never come home, " she said.

Tunde felt guilty for a moment.

Then he looked around at the broken stalls and the tired faces.

The guilt went away.

"I am going to Lagos, " he said firmly.

His mother closed her eyes briefly.

"You sound like your father, " she said.

Those words hurt Tunde.

"I am nothing like him, " he said.

Then he. Walked away before he got angry.

Hours later the streets of Abuja were busy again.

Buses filled the roads and traders shouted from markets.

Heat rose from the asphalt as Tunde walked to a workshop.

Loud music was playing inside.

Engines were rattling everywhere.

The smell of petrol and smoke filled the air.

A young man with grease on his clothes looked up.

"Tunde!" he exclaimed.

Musa rushed toward him excitedly.

Musa wahas beenunde's friend since childhood.

He was calm and intelligent and loyal.

He was also one of the mechanics in Abuja.

"You disappeared after the race yesterday, " Musa said. "People are still talking about that drift."

Tunde handed him the card.

Musa studied it carefully.

His smile slowly disappeared.

"You are joking, " he said.

"I wishwere,was " Tunde said.

Musa looked up sharply.

"The Black Circuit Invitational?" he asked.

"You know it?" Tunde asked.

"Everybody in racing knows it, " Musa said.

Tunde folded his arms.

"Tell me, " he said.

Musa lowered his voice.

"That race is not normal, " he said.

"What does that mean?" Tunde asked.

"It means rich people use it to gamble millions " Musa said. "Dangerous drivers come from countries. Some racers disappear after competing."

Tunde remained calm.

". Some win " he said.

Musa stared at him in disbelief.

"You are actually thinking about this?" he asked.

" Fifty million naira, " Tunde said.

"That money is stained with blood, " Musa said.

Tunde stepped closer.

"Do you know what fifty million can do for my family?" he asked.

Musa hesitated.

Because he knew.

Everyone who grew up in the streets understood what that amount of money meant.

A way out.

A second chance.

Freedom.

Musa sighed deeply.

"If you go to Lagos things will change " he said.

"They already have " Tunde said.

Suddenly loud shouting erupted outside the workshop.

Both men turned immediately.

Three black SUVs stopped aggressively near the road.

Men with guns got oTundes'undes expression darkened.

Big Joe got out of one of the vehicles with bandages on his arm.

His eyes were burning with hatred.

"You should have killed me yesterday, " Big Joe said coldly.

The mechanics inside the workshop backed away nervously.

Tunde remained still.

"You came all the way here for revenge?" he asked.

Big Joe smiled.

"No, " he said. "I came for payment."

One of the men smashed a bottle agMusa's Musas car.

CRASH!

Another kicked over a toolbox.

Chaos erupted.

"What are you doing?!" Musa shouted.

Big Joe stepped closer to Tunde.

"You embarrassed me in front of the city, " he said.

"You lost the race, " Tunde said.

"You made me look weak, " Big Joe said.

His voice became colder.

". Weak men die quickly in my business."

One of the gang members grabbed Musa violently.

Tunde moved immediately.

"Let him go " he said.

Big Joe smirked.

"Or what?" he asked.

The armed men surrounded Tunde.

The mechanic rushed away in panic.

Musa struggled against the grip holding him.

"Tunde does not do anything, " he said.

Tunde's eyes had changed.

Cold.

Focused.

Dangerous.

Big Joe noticed it.

Then he laughed softly.

"There he is " he said.

"What do you want?" Tunde asked.

Big Joe pointed to the Honda outside.

"That car, " he said.

Tunde's expression hardened.

"No, " he said.

Big Joe shrugged.

"Then your friend dies, " he said.

One of the gang members pressed a knife to Musa's throat.

The workshop was silent.

Tunde clenched his fists.

The Honda was everything.

His weapon.

His escape.

His identity.

Musa was his brother.

Big Joe smiled cruelly.

"Choose, " he said.

Several painful seconds passed.

Then Tunde slowly reached into his pocket. Tossed the car keys on the ground.

Big Joe picked them up.

"Wise decision, " he said.

The gang released Musa. Got back, into the SUVs.

Big Joe paused before getting i,n.

"Oh and Tunde..." he said.

Tunde stared at him.

"If you ever race against me again..." Big Joe said.

His smile disappeared.

"...I will bury your family, " he said.

The SUVs drove away.

Leaving silence behind.

Musa looked furious.

"You should not have given him the car " he said.

Tunde stared at the road.

I had no choice, I thought to myself.

Yes you did, someone said to me.

Tunde looked at him sharply.

What would you have wanted me to do? I asked him. Would you have wanted me to just give up and have a funeral? I mean what is the point of that?

Musa just fell silent.

The room we were in suddenly felt really small.

It felt hotter too.

For a l,ong time I felt like I had no power, like I was not in control.

Everything I had worked for could just be taken away from me overnight. That thought really scared me.

Musa stepped beside me quietly.

What are you going to do he asked me.

I looked down at the invitation card that was still in my hand.

Then something changed in my eyes.

I felt determined like I was ready to do something. It was not going to be easy.

I am going to Lagos, I said.

That evening the city of Abuja was really beautiful. The sun was. The sky was orange.

I walked through the streetsthe towards Amaras neighborhood.

There were kids playing football on the side of the road and vendors shouting out prices and motorcycles driving by fast.

But I did not really notice any of that.

I was thinking about what was going to happen. I was scared but I was also really ambitious.

When I fiAmara'sgot to Amaras house she was sitting outside reading a book under a mango tree.

She smiled when she saw me. Then she saw the look on my face and her smile went away.

She asked me.

I sat down beside her and for a while I did not say anything.

Then I told her I am leaving for Lagos.

Amara looked at me really surprised.

You are going to Lagos for racing she ,asked me.

Yes, I said.

She closed her book slowly.

Tunde, she. Her voice was really soft.

There is a lot of money to be won, I told her.

But that is not what I am worried about, she said.

I looked away because I did not know what to say.

I just know that I cannot keep living like I said.

Amara looked at me carefully.

You are changing, she said.

Everybody keeps saying that I thought to myself.

My mother says it Savage says it and now Amara is saying it.

Maybe they are right maybe the streets are changing me maybe I am becoming someone

Amara touched my hand gently.

I am afraid of losing you she said.

I looked at her f" Youa time.

Then I whispered, you already are.

She looked really hurt. I felt bad but before she could say anything my phone started ringing.

It was a number but I answered it anyway.

Hello, I said.

It was Victor Blanco and his voice was really calm.

Prepare yourself Tunde he said.

I stood up slowly.

I asked him.

There has been a change, he said.

TLagos tournament is not what we thought he said.

The prize is not fifty million naira anymore.

I felt reaby lly surprised that I asked him.

The price has increased, he said.

Then there was silence. I did not know what to say.

One hundred million naira, he. His voice was really quiet.

I could not breathe I was so surprised.

Amara was looking Victor'servously.

Victors voice was really cold when he spoke again.

But you have to understand, he said, this is not going to be easy.

Three raers died this year , he said.

And this year it is going to be more dangerous, he said.

The call. I lowered my phone really slowly.

The wind was blowing gently through the trees.

I could hear sirens, far away but I did not really hear them.

,Because, inside me something had already made a decision.