IN THE HUSTLES OF ABUJA
The government had announced its plan to construct an over-head bridge and a round-about at the place. That, would change the physical appearance of the place and terminate illegal motor parks, business and occupations. Yet some moveable kiosk could be seen here and there. One could see buses picking and dropping passengers and heading for different parts of the city. The presence of the police does not stop that. When they are seen shouting or stopping a driver, it is only a matter of the driver being willing to give twenty or fifty naira. Ogwu crossed the busy road to the side of Utako district. He would take “Apian way” or a short cut through the back of golden Astora hotel, through the bush path, crossing a small stream that flows from a confluence of multiple drainages in the city, cross the Kado express way near VIO office and get home. This was a method he had been using to save some money.
“Hello!” A man greeted as he was about to make a bend.
“Good evening” he answered, not looking properly to know who is greeting. People mind their business in Abuja. They hardly have the time to greet. The few gentlemen of that caliber who greet were “cooperate beggars.” They dress as honorable as possible. Or if not that, they may be street evangelist.
With the gentle way the man greeted, Ogwu remembered an encounter with a man at Wuse Market. It was around seven o’clock, when he was coming from the shop. A gentle man, gorgeously dressed in suit approached him. His nerves contracted, for one cannot distinguish between rouges and a good man in Abuja. He also looked like a preacher
“Good evening bros.” He greeted.
“Well done.” Ogwu answered. The use of ‘bros’ had shown which class the man belong; a hustler
“Please bros, can you help me out with either fifty or hundred naira. I am going to Suleja and I am stranded here. I am looking for transport money to go home please, since morning I have not even taken water, bros please help me and God will help and bless you.”
“All these things rapped in a couple of seconds like a rapper” Ogwu thought.
“Look...”
“Bros, if you can’t afford fifty naira, you can give me just twenty naira to buy something and eat bros.”
He had not even allowed him to talk. He was still walking and the man was following him. He had not eaten for the whole day himself. He would like to buy fried yam from the joint and the man has already followed him there. He produced fifty naira from his breast pocket and bought thirty-naira worth of yam, asked the woman to give the rest to the man and left.
“Please, excuse me” the voice called again.
He turned. The man was a short fat man. He came close to him and asked
“Please! I am looking for Elizabeth Street.”
“I am also a new person here, I don’t know it.” He snapped and turned to go.
“Look, I am from Guinea, I supplied clothes to one Nigerian woman, who said she lives at Elizabeth Street and has asked me to come her place on Nigeria.” The man explained.
“Well, I am sorry I don’t know the place.”
The man turned and walked in front of him. He seemed to ask two other young men and asked them, and soon turned in despair and walked past Ogwu again. As Ogwu walked past the other boys the man had asked, the boys stopped him.
“Bros, do you know that man” Asked the one of the boys.
“No,” Ogwu answered, not willing to talk.
“They have duped him.”
He did not answer.
“Bros,” The boy said as if he has found a solution to the man’s problem.
“He said he came with films, handset and clothes. Maybe we can help him sell them and let him pay us…” The boy called the man and began to interview him.
The man revealed that he bought films, video machine, handset and other accessories. The other boy quickly announced that he sells motor parts for his elder brother. He asked Ogwu what he does and he disclosed that he operates a video club. It was clear that he was in a better position to help the man. The whole thing was becoming enthusiastic.
The man told them that his loads were at Jabi, behind Lento Aluminum. The next thing was how to get there. The motor parts-dealer said he did not have anything in his pocket and the Guinean only had ₦30 Nigerian currency, just enough for his transportation there. Ogwu volunteered to pay for the other boy and they boarded a bus.
The man took the lead from Lento while Ogwu followed closely to. It was a windy way through a slum. How could this alien get a place like this in all the city of Abuja to stay? There was no light there, no; maybe there was a power outage. The man explained that he was sent packing from a hotel where he was residing because the money with him was not in Nigerian currency.
At long last they were in the room; a newly built house. The walls were not painted, no pictures on the walls, there was a long cushion chair at one end of the room, two side tables; one on each side of the wooden center table. A white curtain separated the room from another room and a kerosene lamp illuminated the room.
Immediately they sat down, a young slender man came out of the inner room. He was quickly identified as Mike by the Guinean who spoke a kind of English language, constantly saying ‘wee-, wee’, a French word for ‘yes’ as his friend always helped him complete what he wants to say. He announced to the unknown Guinean that the custom officers who escorted him from Lagos had taken his goods back to Lagos leaving only the films. He was asked to come back to Lagos to clear them. That was a disappointment but that they could use the film was a consolation.
At the man’s instruction, Mike went in and brought out two thin papers and a bowl of water. The man asked them to come closer to see what he was going to do.
“Wee, this is the films, wee, this one, not film for video. Film for election only.”
He allowed them to touch the paper and see what it was. Then, gently folding the sleeves of his shirt, he pulled himself to the front of his chair. He gently dropped the two papers in the bowl containing small water and asked Ogwu to look at his watch and tell him when it is three minutes. After the three minutes, he washed the papers gently, shaking his hand in the water which produced foam, then brought out the two papers.
It was then that Ogwu really understood the people amongst which he found himself. The two papers turned into brand new naira notes notes. Even in the village, he had heard stories of ‘419’ and money doublers but could not hide the surprise about the mysterious production of money.
The awe and exclamative remark made by the two other young men made the Guinean shiver.
“What is this?
“Just films, wee, films” He said.
“Make we pay this man” Suggested the other man who had come from Berger with them.
“We cannot wash it. He used chemical mixture” Mike argued.
At last they decided to tell him. Ogwu didn’t quite seem to blend with the other two and the man noticed that. He wasn’t really against any of their plans. He was only fashioning his way out of the people and the place.
“This is money, Nigerian money” Said Ogwu.
“Hai!” The man shouted. Then knelt down and started begging them not to kill him. He was assured by Mike that nothing would happen to him if only he would wash the films and they will all share it equally.
“The custom. Take it. My chemical back to Lagus.” The man said. He explained further that the chemical could be bought at Abuja. The small bottle that can only wash half of the film cost ₦50,000.00 while the big one cost ₦100,000.00. He knew where he could buy them.
‘How come?’, Ogwu thought in his mind. These people in all their wisdom could be so stupid and foolish. A stranded stranger knows where to buy chemical?
Mike volunteered to donate ₦18,000.00 The other man who had become known as Chuks while the man asking them to be sure of whom they were dealing with also said he would steal his brother’s money. He promised of buying ₦10,000.00
Over to Gideon, for he gave his English name when he was asked.
“How much can you bring?” Asked Mike.
“Well, I can’t promise but if should get home, I will bring nothing less than ten.”
It was agreed that everybody would be given his own contribution before the actual sharing begins. Mike had 18,000.00 on him, which he gave and Chuks would bring his own the following day.
6pm the next day was agreed upon for meeting. The man explained to Ogwu how he was forewarned by his father to be careful about Nigerians. He specially trusted Gideon because according to him. He was the only one among the three whose name was in the bible. He explained through a breath-taking description that he had two cartons of ₦200.00 note films, one of ₦500 note film and three of ₦100 note films. These films were sent to Governor Akume of Beune state who had supplied his father with two tankers of petrol. Hear talk.
“That is my Governor” Ogwu said, “We play at the golf course together, I can take you to his office directly.”
“Wee, I wash it because I have not Niderie money, they send me from Hotel, Wee. You is my best friend, I trust you so much, more than Mike. Wee...”
“And you left all those films and all of those luggages with him?” Ogwu thought.
The man assured him that if he failed to show up the following day, he would not do anything. Mike and Chuks seemed to become impatient.
When the man was assured that nobody was going to hurt him, he did not believe. He did not know what was going to be the penalty for an alien to produce a country’s money illegally. To be sure, he asked everybody to bring out his money. Chuks brought out ten naira which, he said, was the only money with him. Mike was not with money. Only Ogwu brought out ₦2,000.00 from his breast pocket and ₦3000 from the other. ‘What has bringing one’s money outside got to do with the truth in this case?’ Ogwu thought. But he complied.
He always had his money well arranged and kept. The money made from the day’s sale was neatly packed and slotted into the back left pocket of his jeans trouser. The right back pocket was empty and the ₦30.00 change he had collected at Berger was the one he had collected for Chuks. There was another ₦30.00 which he had in a pocket of his trouser. That would do the trick.
The man stepped out into the darkness. Ogwu was happy that there was no light in the place. While the man continued his endless narration and explanation, he quickly removed the ₦200 note in his breast pocket and replaced it with a ₦20 note.
What he expected happened. A few steps further, the man stopped and asked him to give him the two hundred naira, explaining that he had not eaten for a whole day because people would not collect his Guinean currency. Ogwu did not argue, he removed the twenty naira; happy that it was dark and handed it over to him.
A few meters away, Chuks was waiting. He begged Ogwu to give him twenty naira to complete his transport money to his place. Ogwu explained that he had just given all his money except his transport fare to the Guinean. Almost immediately, Ogwu entered a bus which had just dropped some passengers.
That is the game in Abuja. ‘Shine your eye.’ All your senses have to be at work. Chuks and the man were all one but he would have caused a quarrel between them. He had told Chuks that he gave the man the whole money he had shown them and Chuks would definitely demand his cut. He would not believe Ogwu gave him only ₦20 and that would trigger a fight.
The way Joe talked about it was even more terrifying than the real experience. He explained that Ogwu had gone to the pit of hell and come back and that it called for testimony. Those men had taken him to a safe place for their action and would have killed him quickly, if they had discovered more money on him or if he had attempted to prove stubborn. The waiting family was surprised to see him come back home at 9pm after he had been asked that morning to return home as early as possible.
... IN THE HUSTLES OF ABUJA...
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