Chapter 2: the current

The streets of Ikeja, Lagos were always bustling with crowds and activities but the traffic was a bit attenuated today which was unusual. Not complaining though, I took it as the heavens giving me a chance not to get on Commander Young's bad side this early.

As I drove through the Express, my eyes never failed to wander and the memories never far behind. Almost at every point and part, there was a history and story to be told. I was a typical Lagosian boy, aware of the dreadful hustle and bustle way of life. I had passed through all those phases and now as I looked, my vision was through a broad spec defined by its all round experience.

Was it the sight of the bus conductors, trying to fight for each pedestrian they see or was it the hawkers selling different products on the streets? I didn't know which one of them felt a little close to home, maybe it was both or none at all. 

I had stopped at a traffic light when a certain mendicant knocked on my window screen. The tapping sound caught my attention and as I turned, I was greeted with the sight of a miniaturized boy. He looked swollen by the belly with thin ribs and it was as if, life was sucked out with each breath he took in. The little boy wasn't wearing any clothes and the morning weather was chiller than usual. I felt for the kid and I may have stared into his eyes for a short while, revisiting the pain and finding his story.

If you're familiar with the book "Faceless" by Amma Darko, the Ghanaian writer would tell you through her words that children like this seeked a roof over their heads more than a meal any day. Don't get me wrong, they were starving but the need and longing for comfort always prevailed foremost.

I snapped from my thoughts when I heard the light tapping on the window again and I decided to be a bit more generous today, besides I had enough of the money now unlike when I was almost a mirror of the person I was now staring straight at.

Five Thousand Naira and the little child looked as though I had changed his life that morning. It was worth it, seeing the spark of joy in his features as he clutched the money securely in his hands whilst a content smile remained on my face as I covered the remaining distance to the barracks.

It was situated at an openly reserved area, filled with large acres of land, some used while a small portion left untouched. From the outside it looked relatively big but once I crossed the numerous security checkpoints and got a better view of the inside, it was massive.

As I approached the entrance, men in green khakis, boots and army hats stopped everyone entering the building for a final check. I had expected the present intensity of security consciousness I was seeing play out. The armed forces were the highest military operators in the country, they were no jokes but so were we.

I was at the back of the line—impatience pricking my insides at every second—when a startling commotion ensued at the front line. It made all our heads turn to get a better view, some craned to the right while others the left.

I noticed the black cloth first and my eyes squinted in suspicion as I disentangled myself from the queue. 

Going forth a little, I noticed the side features of the man who was involved in the battle of words with the army man. 

That familiar side line and the impressive height of the man made me almost conclude that I knew who it was. 

Now, the argument had become full blown and none of the two looked as though they were backing out.

"You have the nerve to talk back at me," the soldier said, grabbing the man by his collar.

"Get your hands off of me!" The man in black shouted, his voice detecting evident anger.

"I would make sure you're dealt with," the soldier spat, looking confident. 

This was exactly why I got pissed at the indifferent and careless attitudes of some Nigerian soldiers. It was a checkpoint and the most inauspicious place to cause a scene, as while almost half of us were nationals waiting in line, a few were foreigners also.

What would they think of such despicable behaviours!? And I was completely certain that this argument had ensued because of something so insignificant, not in any way worth the execrable views and weird looks we would receive.

As Soldierly men, our actions, loyalty and interests were to this country but no, there were still thick heads that always thought otherwise. Countless times, there had been about twenty to fifty reports of manslaughter amounting in each year that went by and it was all as a result of soldiers like this.

Their egos mattered more to them than maintaining peace and defense. I would not forget the words of Achebe– 'there is a moral obligation, I think, not to ally oneself with power against the powerless'. This was exactly what this soldier was displaying, siding with power and allowing it to intoxicate him like whiskey to a pathetic drunk! A mere door guard for that matter, what rank was he at, that he would make such a fuss about something so simple.

I edged forward slowly but then I became on high alert when I noticed the coming intent of the man's actions. His hands kept withdrawing halfway to his back. He had done that three times in a row now and as I presumed, the thought of using his gun was consistent.

I trudged forward carefully but with a mission on my plate as a more horrendous scene was about to unfold, since I had come to notice the remaining five guards clutching their weapons with extra force. They too must have percepted their colleagues intentions but I didn't know if they were in favour or against.

Now, I had reached the front and a clearer view was granted to my pleasure. The man in question was still backing me but I noticed the guns packed on the table beside him. I studied them, the shiny surface of the silver Smith and Wesson, the Sig Sauer P238 and then, I realized in that moment, that I knew who the man was.

There was only one person in this world that carried as many weapons like this and still always managed to forget his ID and license. This time around I was sure he would say he had dropped it mistakenly on the cabinet or would it be the kitchen counter, I thought.

I almost let a laugh escape my lips, had it not been for the seriousness of things and instantly with more conviction in my strides, I approached the middle of the scene. I was in time though because I guess the army man had finally decided to act on his thoughts despite the consequences. 

It all played out in swift motions of me deflecting the hand that he had brought forward holding an Ak-47. My actions were probably unnoticed by the crowd, as I think it had taken them a few minutes before some started catching on

"Can't you mind your business." The man who had now turned fully to me, rebuked immediately, just as I captured the hands of the soldier at his back, making his weapon fall to the floor.

"A thank you for saving my life would be much more appreciated for this uh situation," I replied with a smirk, referring to the soldier, who had now looked less tough as he squirmed in my firm hold.

It took some seconds for me to realise that all eyes were on us and so also, the open ends of guns, pointed directly at our faces. I wasn't fazed though. Smartly, I brought out my licence, easing a hand out from its hold on the man, raising it up and declaring an unspoken statement.

When they looked at the card in my hand, instantly, they brought down their weapons and retreated. We weren't higher than the armed forces but we had our own fair share of respect—accorded to us as a result of the versatility of our work.

"Who's your captain?" I asked in an authoritative tone, as these were guards at the bottom of the hierarchy, so I needed to be respected. I didn't stress it much as always, the way I kept my expressions seemed to do the work most times.

A more timid guard spoke up, gesturing to a large building around the corner. I didn't wait a second before throwing the piece in my hands directly on the other guards with extra force and a hint of roughness, not intending to be gentle at all.

"Be sure to give an extensive detail of the boorish behaviour displayed by him towards an ICS agent and I would definitely confirm later, if you did so," I said again in command as they stood still, listening to my words attentively.

The two guards that were to carry him out, saluted in respect at the both of us before leaving and only then did I turn back to face him.

"Really!" I enounced with a raised eyebrow as well as welding a knowing look directed straight at him. He seemed to have understood perfectly, seeing as he had chuckled in reply.

"It should be somewhere on my dining table, I think?" He said, looking awfully in thought while biting his lip to halt an incoming laugh. I could only just manage an amused shake of my head and a sigh in disbelief.

"Mhmm," I murmured drily, folding my hands afterwards. He didn't even try to hold back the laugh anymore but then, that had been right before my mind had registered with the crowd around us, looking shocked, startled, sickened and surprised all at once.

I wouldn't blame them, they had almost been victims of a fight between an arrogant soldier and a clumsy agent. It would have turned out messy, thank goodness I was here to save Emeka's ass.

We both apologised to the crowd swiftly, managing to calm them down right before departing from the scene and entering the building. Though, it was all fruitless, the time had read 10:45 am, and I was screwed eventually.