Chinedu Ogoke - Under Fire

“We used tickets to blindfold them,” the fellow still continued.

After putting away the second moi moi, Imoni didn’t stay on a minute, but not before a closer look at the fellow. Singing in the room, announced the return of Yunusa’s musical set. Mickey’s voice mingled with the music when he tapped on the door. All three were in the smoke-filled room, and all but Aham contributed to the smoking affair. The discussion on hand must have been enthralling to deny Imoni his usual reception. “Why? It’s like you’re not looking very cheerful,” Mickey remarked, shaking hands. “Anything the problem?”

“Nothing.” Imoni shook hands with the others.

Mickey was gay as usual, with a new bend to his voice. He toyed convincingly with a Don Cornelius baritone. “It’s like one got no reason in life not to be happy meen,” he said. “Never and never gonno be sad in my life. “Aha, Like I was telling you guys,” he continued. “I got this babe. But, it’s like she proved a little difficult. My God! I didn’t know it was the shirt!”

Aham and Yunusa laughed. Imoni joined them ignorantly. “My God!” Mickey continued. “You did this thing to me, Imoni.”

So, Imoni found himself facing a charge. What was his offence? he queried, amused. He hadn’t even familiarised himself with the discussion on hand. He knew it would turn out trivial, but it bothered him. Mickey was delaying pronouncing it. He heard it instead from Yunusa. He had failed to restrain Mickey from leaving earlier in the day with the wrong clothes. Imoni took it with amusement in his eyes. How could he have interfered with Mickey’s chosen taste? he wondered. And, didn’t they try to talk him out of it?

He did, agreed, Mickey said. But he hadn’t insisted. “In fact, people were turning and looking at me. It’s like, I thought I was giving it to them. I thought I was oppressing. How could I have known they disapproved? That I was a fuck.” Then, where was the shirt now? “It’s like I had to tear it to shreds in a friend’s room, and throw it away. The friend lent me his shirt. This shirt I’m wearing now. It was even him whom the girl told about the shirt, and then he told me. The girl happens to be this friend’s girlfriend’s friend.” Mickey stuck out a leg. “I’ve fallen in love, meen. It’s like the girl’s pa is swell, a millionaire. We threw some pay around today, men. We just took off. We were wild. Blowy. People’s mouths were agape. Just like we’ve been doing at Sinai. What we did there is still reverberating in school. It’s like every chic wants to get pally with us. Already I have two after me. I haven’t seen them, any way. And, it’s like, they, each, told some of my guys.”

Yunusa rightly chose a good incident to keep the excitement going. He saw him at the suya spot two days before, he said. “Right! You did?” Mickey got up excitedly. “You did? You go there, too? You’re big, now?” He put out a hand. They shook.

Imoni added his own suya spot experience. “That was a day after. I had already bought suya, but some other guys couldn’t buy any. They wanted to tear, searching for somebody’s face to paste. Guys were going to catch fire.”

Things were shaping up for Mickey, the way he never expected. “Ha, ha, ha,” he laughed.

Yunusa livened a diminishing cigarette with another. Same thing he observed too, he said. Mickey was smiling gleefully. That was another front. Yunusa and Imoni had been spectators too, and were saying it. It was coming from left and right. “It’s like we had no choice but to give it to them.... And, all over the school now, everybody is talking and pointing. Girls are screaming, falling over one another.” He demonstrated with his hands. “We’ve been declared wanted dead or alive.”

Aham was trying to put things together and weigh the psychological impact on other students. “Silly,” Mickey helped him. “It was, total, itinerant oppression.”

Mickey’s absolute religious devotion to his recent adventure showed in his eyes. He poured his emotion and his entire soul into all he related.

Both Imoni and Aham’s eyes shared something, by intuition.

“Like what happened at Lake Tchad the day before yesterday,” Mickey continued, seeking Imoni’s approval. “It’s like, we had a swell time there. Every dud in attendance was just an on-guy. No sme sme guy. It’s like all the older folk who must have felt the place was exclusively theirs, just felt threatened. They were turning every now and then to look at us bubbly young folk, with their eyes bulging from their sockets.” He demonstrated this. He made an indication with his thumb. “Salaudeen was there too.”

“He asked of you. I told you,” Imoni complemented that. “That you both were at Tchad.”

“Yes,” Mickey said. “Just sorry I ignored him and entered the hall.... Well, at Lake Tchad, he just came in with his Medinatu, and Major General Dauda’s son. You know these guys.... gave me a smile, after shaking my hand warmly.... I was with a babe, and so was Ed, and these other guys.

“Waoh, it’s like that Medinatu is a dame! Kept looking at me, like...”

His looks, obviously would hold any girl’s attention, Aham told him. “It’s like,” Mickey interrupted him, “she would be saying, ‘What a guy!’ I tell you, if her boy hadn’t been a big fella like Salaudeen, I would have screeched off with her.”

“Really.” Yunusa nodded.

“You know,” Mickey referred to Imoni, “like I was telling these guys, that Dr. Maxwell is a circus clown. Guys are even saying his unconventional teaching method is a concern to the school. It’s like he just disgraced himself today.”

Aham defended the man’s teaching style. The man did right, and Salaudeen deserved it, he maintained. Imoni was saying the same thing. Dr. Maxwell had to contain the excesses of some of those students. In his class, one must never do as one pleased. A lecturer had to have the proceedings in his class under control. If Salaudeen so fancied his shoes, he should have stayed away or displayed them in a show room. Mickey was offended, but he played it down. “That thing was naked envy. These are people who shouldn’t be in this school. Between him and Salaudeen, who is a minus to the school? Who would students prefer to dispose with? I’m surprised big guys like you are saying this. Guys were saying it was envy. It’s like that boy is great, Imoni. Didn’t you see how he honourably left the hall? Had he refused to leave, nothing would have happened.”

To tell him, Aham said, the Dr. Maxwell had a different world view from those people. Until now, Mickey had been winning all verbal contests. Finding his voice was becoming now difficult. “You’re talking of people who own this country,” he found his voice finally. “Somebody who can buy him. Dr. Maxwell? That frustrated Marxist with that civil war relic,” he shouted. “He’ll die yet. He’s not a lecturer. He’s a stage clown.”

The accumulated tension now wore out with some silence. “It’s like a big party is slated for tonight,” Mickey said authoritatively. “One Lara is flinging tomorrow’s.”

“The one that uses a BM.?” Yunusa asked.

He acquired a new cigarette. “Yes, a black BM. It’s like every big guy is attending.” He had a finger list. “Salaudeen, Saminu, Audu, Lara, Cynthia, Bath, Ijeoma, Azu, Ruf. Lotta guys.” Rufus? Aham asked, with mouth agape, looking at Imoni, that the name made the list.

“Yes. All of them.” Mickey even slightly enlarged the list, and retained Rufus’ name. Imoni was himself surprised to find Rufus’ name in almost every such list. “It’s like Lara’s new boyfriend is throwing,” Mickey continued saying. “But Olivia is doing hers all herself.”

He was barely in school, Imoni said, and he had such a frighteningly wide list, and up-dated roster. He laughed. “Any fella who calls himself a happener should. Especially have a physical contact with them, and fix names to the faces, and vice versa. I almost forgot. You’re some dud. I heard your name mentioned somewhere. But a guy says you’re kinda withdrawn.”