Chapter Nine
1034 Words
The following morning, they drove as early as seven, through the streets and slums of Wuse. It was a long drive, taking them about two hours, which on a normal day without traffic, would take a maximum of thirty minutes. They parked their car at a T-junction leading to Shola's office. John lead them through the area. Beggars ogled at them as they went by, smokers and gamblers did not stop gawking. Children playing plastic bottles as football stopped to look at them. They were different; they were easily recognized, they looked civilized and classy.
They all(four of them) were dressed in blue suits and black trousers. An eagle was crested on the suit's left chest pocket, serving as the NBI's emblem. And the National coat of arms on the right. Their shoes black and shiny, made mud jealous. They tread the mud in unison. Gutter smell, pierced their intestines, but John seemed unaffected -- marching head straight without looking behind.
They crept and slid through every corners in the environment. After fifteen minutes of trekking, they got frustrated -- Mike, Jones and Susan.
"How long do we have to keep walking?" Susan asked.
John moved on pretending not to hear what she said.
Susan scurried to meet John, standing in his way she said "I am talking to you. How long do we have to walk?"
John shrugged indifferently, "I don't know," he said.
He tried to move forward, then Susan stopped him by pushing him back on the chest.
"What do you mean you don't know," she retorted, looking into his eyes above, "we have been walking more than we drove and you say 'you don't know,'" she said mimicking John's obnoxious shrug.
John exhaled sharply, "see, if you can't continue, you are more than welcome to go back to the car and drive down to the Bureau," he went on, "and of course, in two weeks time, the FBI takes over from us and you lose your job, make sure you say 'John didn't know where we were going to'". He c****d his head backward, meeting Jones and Mike's frozen look with a glare, "and that goes for you two as well," he said.
He passed across his message perfectly, and he continued the march.
"I'm confused if we are even on the right path," Jones mumbled, as they followed John.
"You can lead and I'll follow then," John hollered, marching forward.
They walked for another fifteen minutes, parading the area. John led them to a dilapidated building, with a detached roof.
"Here we are," he said, with a short lived smile and a sigh.
"You cannot be serious," Susan said with a shocked look on her face.
"Do I look unserious?" John plastered a firm grin on his face, leaving Susan dumbfounded.
"Oh crap!" Jones said with a heave.
They entered the compound, everyone doing their stuffs gawped at them. It was a face me I slap you apartment, where two houses oppose each other in the same compound. Each tenant with its own problem.
"How do we even know we are here in this cesspit to meet a detective," Jones said with a snort eyeing a man brushing his teeth by the fence. Both of them locked horns with their eyes, tugging back and forth, then Jones looked away.
"Wait for it," John said walking over to meet a woman bathing her child.
"We might as well wait for Nate," Jones mumbled silently, then repeated it again, this time louder and harsher to make John mad, but John ignored him.
Susan, Mike and Jones stood by scanning around the obscene environment observantly. Mike and Susan watched John talking with the woman, she pointed into the passage, describing Shola's room. While Jones eyes met with the man brushing earlier, this time a towel was around his waste and a bucket of water, with a sponge and a bar soap in the bowl. His chest muscles was quite intimidating, but Jones was not moved by it. After enough eye tugging, the man got frustrated.
"Mr man what are you looking at?" he asked in an infuriating tone.
Jones ignored him with a snicker and looked away.
The man got angry, then dropped his bucket, and stormed toward Jones. Little did John realized what was happening until he heard the man's yell at Jones.
"What are you looking for?" he hollered.
But John stood still, responding with a mocking smile. The man found it insulting.
"See dis one still dey laugh," he said in pidgin switching to his native northern accent. He pushed Jones at his chest, throwing him off balance to ground, "na me become Tom and Jerry u dey laugh at?" He had started drawing attention. Everyone started to gather round to watch the show.
Jones rose up with anger, about to throw a punch at the man, then John stepped in.
He held Jones tight restricting him from getting into a fight, then turned to the man.
"Bros, no vex Biko," John apologized in the native accent as well. While Mike and Susan held Jones as well.
The man ranted in his Hausa dialect, expressing his anger. John tried to calm him down, responding in the same dialect. Finally the man heeded and walked away, denying onlookers the pleasure of an early morning wrestling show.
John turned to Jones with a cold frown and said "we have only been here for less than ten minutes and you picked up a fight already!"
"It's okay," Susan said calming John's rising temper.
"It was not my fault," Jones said clenching his teeth.
John came closer standing taller than Jones, he looked into his eyeballs with rage.
"Not your fault uhn?"
"It was not my fault," Jones yelled at him, raising his eyes to John's.
John punched him in the face, shaking his stance.
"You dare raise your voice at me," John said angrily, while Susan and Mike restricted him, "you're right we might as well wait for Nate, he might be stupid and annoying but he is still a lot smarter than your fish brain."
Jones' eyes were filled with rage as he rubbed his chin and watch John charge away.
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