Chinedu Kizzito Uwalaka
A tree that was once struck by lightning is never
scared to see the sky darken with rain clouds.
An Infinity jeep with a personalised inscription on the number plate sliced through the suffusing air on the quiet street of a rescinding day. The tinted glasses conceal its occupants except with a careful study of the inscription on the number plate; NSG-C-Boss which meant ‘naira smells good with the Boss’.
Behind the Infinity Jeep, an escort Hilux car kept pace in the drove and together, they raced towards a building with a sky-high perimeter walls, weirdly barbed wires. The sensor active security gate opened to allow the vehicles drove in.
At the parking lot, the jeep pulled over and the escort car grinded to a halt. Two men jumped out with feet of alacrity, their hands firmly grasped AK 47 rifles and stood astride on the ground. Their eyes gleamed behind the dark glasses.
The boots on their feet clapped with sturdy weirdness. It meant no harm to the interlocking blocks that symmetrically filled the expanse of the compound’s floor. A crisscross of artistically patterned paints of red, yellow and green enchanted a unified fascination.
Clinically mowed grasses set the triangularly shaped lawns pheering at the flowers that stood above them. Flowers in the circular ring treasured the company of the fountains. At the fringes bordering the fence, the plants stood tall and flapped their comeliness gained from the grace of daily watering.
Continually, fragrance emitted from them to sweeten the senses of every guest. The white painted two-storey building had a central positioning as a damsel before the king for a final selection. A stain-free orange yellow colour gave a ribbon’s beauty at the baselines of the building.
Boss stepped out of the jeep dressed in a white toughly starched Italian silk. A stick of cigar stuck to his mouth and a gold walking stick supported his weight, stylishly. He really could walk without it. A macho looking man stepped out with him and walked into the building with Boss’ briefcase.
“Hello, come on,” said the Boss, bending to the door to signal the man seated on the front seat of the jeep.
“Okay sir,” said Tochi and stepped out with difficulty because of the bruises on his right hand. He could not hide his fascination of what he saw. It did not look like hospital to him but if it was then his life was set to change, he thought.
“Come with me, it’s my house…you’ll be okay,” said Boss, walking along into the building.
Tochi followed with deliberate strides, admiring the scenery that energized the zephyr. In the sitting room, the white leathered cushion chair complimented the classical layout design of the space. The chairs, arranged in a semi-circle stared at the resplendent centre table. Tochi felt rebuffed to sit on the chair.
“Don’t sit yet,” said Boss with a rustled voice. “Not in that condition,” he added.
“Yes sir,” said Tochi, looking at the stain of blood on him and confused that his thoughts revealed him.
Otti was one of Boss’ boys. He walked in at the whistle of Boss, dressed in black suit and stood metres away to get his orders.
“Take him to the guest room,” said Boss to Otti. “Let him bath, change into decent attire and bring him back,” said Boss.
“Yes sir,” said Otti, turning to the new guest of the house. He beckoned on him to follow and together, they walked out and crossed the stripe that divided the main building from another smaller structure with integrated apartments. Otti led Tochi into a suite, “the bathroom…there…be fast,” he said and withdrew.
The bath was warm and the wound thoroughly massaged. When Tochi stepped out of the bathroom, he saw neatly ironed safari shirt and trousers on the bed, and a pair of slippers was on the floor. He wore them and thanked his god who led him in the path of Boss.
Otti returned and led Tochi back to the sitting room. Boss was impressed with the new look of his guest.
“Sit down”, said Boss in a quiet tone. “The table will be set soon.” Boss got up from where he sat, walked through a door and disappeared.
Tochi moped at the giant size portrait of Boss placed near the self-supported TV set. He pulled his feet out of the slippers to have direct feeling of the enamelled ties succinctly laid. Tochi relished in his experience of a lifetime achievement. He considered Boss being barely two or three years older than he was with luck working for him.
Tochi did not know when he sat down in the chair overwhelmed by the feeling of been in heaven. In his trance, he rode in opulence and was already a lord over many attendants.
“Tochi, can you hear me, I’m asking you…where do you live?” said Boss, sitting in the opposite direction with a cigar in his hand.
“Yes,” Tochi awaken from his trance. “Sorry, I live everywhere that the day meets me and the night leaves me,” said Tochi smiling.
“I mean your house?”
“I have no house, sir.”
“Your relations?” said Boss, puffing smoke out of his mouth. The smell mixed with the air fresher dispelled by the steaming air conditional.
“None, sir”, Tochi said.
“Where did you grow up then, who brought you up…your parents, I mean?” said Boss, breaking the ash of the cigar into the ashtray that sat on the glass stool beside the chair.
“I grew up as a mate in the abandoned baby’s home,” said Tochi.
“Oh, I see,” Boss dropped off some ashes on the tray and continued smoking.
“Yes,” said Tochi with excitement. He wanted ask Boss a question about the meal he promised. But he felt restrained.
“What do you do for a living?” said Boss.
“I’m a labourer and wonderer,” said Tochi.
“Labouring…for what and how long?”
“I labour for everything…eighteen years now…on the street.”
“Eighteen years, wow!” said Boss looking at him closely. “Does the experience bring hell closer?”
“Yes sir, I live in it everyday but today, I’m in the best part of heaven here,” said Tochi, thinking that the answer suited the looks he saw in Boss’ eyes.
Boss stood up slowly from his seat and walked across the floor. He dragged from the cigar and swallowed so that the smoke emitted through the month, nose and ears.
“Well, Tochi,” said Boss, halting. “You’ll join me in my business…no hard works but you’ll work smart.”
“Yes sir,” said Tochi, thinking that any business that provided Boss so much comfort would be a good one.
“You will?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s okay…” said Boss, turning his back on Tochi. He measured five feet and two inches in height and had chubby cheeks. “Come to table then, table is set.” He walked to the dinning table and sat at the head of it. “We’d have killed you when you ran into my car. The doctor will be by the time you finished eating.”
“What I do on the road is not strange, that’s what I see in this country. Everybody is a beggar and the wicked beggars are thieves either with the lips, pen or the gun. You see, I grew up on the street and will die there,” said Tochi, putting a spoonful of rice into his month. “Your car is the fifth that has hit me.”
“You must be very strong then but that’s a bad way of dying,” said Boss calmly.
“Somebody needs to kill me…it’s the only gift I have to offer. The police shot twice, leaving scars here,” said Tochi, standing up to pull up his clothes to reveal them.
“Not now, just eat, okay, life is a risk but not the way you’re taking it,” said Boss.
“Sometimes, I pray for pardon, but what is my crime. Only my mother knows why she wrapped me in the Indomie carton two days after I was born and dumped on the refuse heap near Ikanete junction. My prison life started then.”
“You’ve live a free man…free,” said Boss.
“Not in my mother eyes, I’m so guilty to be deprived her love. So early, she sentenced me.”
“Eat some more,” said Boss, pouring some Camus wine into the cup. He sipped to soothe his feeling. He studied Tochi to know what class he fitted in the category of his workers. “It’s ok,” he added.
“Sir…can I join you right away?” said Tochi, with stuck of chicken meat in his month.
“Drugs, hard drugs,” said Boss, dissecting the lump of meat with the cutleries. “That’s what we do and you’d stop hanging on the streets to ask for arms. If you work for me, you’ll travel abroad often.”
“I like it, you’re kind. Of all those who had hit me on the road, you’re the only one so kind and generous,” said Tochi, scratching his bony cheek.
Tochi had heard of hard drugs and smoked some hemp. Now, he was going to work with a baron. He poured some wine into the cup and sipped. Enthralled by the feeling, he filled his and emptied it. He conjectured that soon, he would live in such opulence like Boss.
