Chinedu Ogoke - Under Fire

Aham had finished doing the work now. “There’s no use regretting your action,” he said, to Imoni. “Just perch. You’ll see.” There was nothing to regret, Yunusa added. Imoni was anything but finished. With those business drills, he reasoned, Imoni had some experience to take with him. And age was on his side. “Very much on his side, in any case,” Aham said. “Just turned twenty three. But, can’t you try and connect a high-ranking army officer to intercede on your behalf?” He addressed Imoni specifically. “You could count on a better representation if you seek somebody in the town. Or even any big, waded guy.”

They all agreed he had to approach somebody in the town to make his case, to take his case up to the appropriate table. To get the goods out and turn it over to him. One had to ride on somebody’s influence to obtain one’s items. Anything could be reversed. A working man was entitled to his goods. Everybody knew how it was, being separated from such goods.

He knew one Idingi, Imoni said. But the man was a fly weight. To another question, he said he knew what was involved initially. Very important in the business was knowing how to get away with such things, even when apprehended. And that was the edge Austin, his friend, for instance, had. Austin was in the same trade. Austin already had five years experience behind him in it, and earned at least four thousand naira on each trip. He put in nine thousand naira, and another five hundred, on two occasions, and another five.

“Some pay,” the other two acknowledged.

He ought to have had some back up capital, he continued. The smuggling environment was an uncertain environment. He had tried as much as possible to cut down on his risks, and made enough financial sacrifices. He had, traditionally, notified a link man he was on his way, but that the fellow’s colleagues had to jump other smugglers to cease his goods was simply baffling. He was used to give others passage. Everything had been within a speaking radius. It was a stage-managed error. He had been locked into a situation whereby he couldn’t get rid of the thoughts troubling him. He did better hear the last of that episode, and have his peace. And, should the goods slip off him, such a crash it would be. Which meant, he would be left with about one thousand naira for the remainder three years in the university. How could he begin now to deal with this new reality?

The other two shook their heads in sympathy. His case wasn’t like one who stumbled foolishly, Aham said. Smuggling at that scale by a student could still be considered small time. So, if they should penalise him at all, it should be with restraint. He should be treated as a first time offender and because of his status.

“Okay, look at it,” Imoni continued, “I spent about three grand last session on the Waltz and others. Already I’ve blown about four hundred since resumption, just a few days.”

“Oh, no,” Aham redirected the discussion, “the Waltz was great. It just woke the school up from slumber. The show broke the ban on social and political activities in the school. And when one considers you brought the band single-handed.”

“For us, it was such an unforgettable moment,” Yunusa said. “Even up till now, one is enjoying the glory of that moment.”

“And how much profit did I make from the show? Just five hundred. Not your box office success.”

“Any way, the gate fee was moderate, and many students who couldn’t afford it were allowed in. One of those things. Men, guys are still clamouring for a repeat. They expect you to go ahead and do it again. Even yesterday, Yunusa and I overheard a boy and a girl telling some jambites you were keeping the date secret. They talked about you as if you were not the guy we know.”

“Really?”

“You can’t try.”

Imoni’s approach had really made the difference. It was unbelievable. After that face-off with the authorities, it was like everybody was sitting down together and talking again. The party industry was having a great season now. But everything went all the way back to that first step he took. It opened things up also for other activities. The lifting of the ban on parties on campus was tied to it, then followed the cultural activities. And newspapers followed and so on. It all came back to him, too. Like now he had that touch about him which he hardly admitted. That touch expressed a lot about him. By doing it, he hadn’t been chasing any applause. He had presented to the school, a well-executed entertainment, with his support staff of Aham, Yunusa and co, with a make-shift office. Everybody got his wage. He, too. He had his benefits, being now a legend. Like it was being handed over to people who never witnessed it. It had entered the story books. A deserved myth. The atmosphere then had created him. The school authorities suddenly realised they had to listen to the students’ silence. Enquiries Imoni had earlier received had been encouraging. Yea, he agreed with his friends, the school wanted the Waltz to come back. They hadn’t forgotten a good time. But it had almost put him in debt. “Maybe somebody else has to do it this time,” he said.

“How many students can risk that type of ticket?” Yunusa asked.

“Damn too many, I tell you. What it cost me is how much they squander at Lake Tchad.”

“Quite a lot of them. What I mean is, how many of them have the organisational skill, discipline and patience? Remember not a word was breathed out until everything was certain, then the publicity took the school by storm.

“I must have built a wrong image of myself, then. If I lose the goods, and no more coins, the realisation, my now-supposed true status would spread, and the mags are always there.”

“But you’re pessimistic about everything, Imoni,” Yunusa rebuked him. “You should be rather hopeful and not despair.”

He stood up, picking up a bucket filled with clothes. “Is it not strange that in this school, most of the guys who have never worked in their lives are those basking recklessly in luxury?”

“Recklessly, men,” Aham agreed.

“Consider my situation, for instance. No assistance of any sort. And I’m unfortunate not to have come from the educationally disadvantaged states enjoying the Federal Government’s sympathy. Apology to Yunusa.”

“You can say what you like.”

They eventually left the room at intervals, with Imoni a few minutes behind the others, and with clothes meant for laundery.

At the tap downstairs, he saw the pompous, young man previously identified as a prince, doing the impossible; washing his own clothes. He wondered why the fellow could not push them over to Modibo’s, nearby. The young man stirred as Imoni let his bucket drop beside the tap. “Good evening,” Imoni greeted.

“Evening. Welcome.”

He instantly won Imoni’s admiration. The young man had a yoghurt drink companion. Imoni freed his clothes from the bucket, and fetched some water. He pressed the seal of the detergent packet, and allowed some flakes into the bucket, then stirred the solution. With adequate result, he dipped in a white shirt, and started trashing at it. The other fellow discharged some healthy, bristling solution, got some fresh water, and recklessly sent some scandalous overdose of detergent into it. Imoni was startled.

The young man abandoned work. He dispatched down his throat some yoghurt, then went inside a room nearby. He soon appeared with a portable tape, as a reel of cable uncoiled after him. He punched a switch, and Prince started with a loud tone. He started singing and swinging to the music, his hands busy inside the soapy water. Imoni exchanged tired-out soap water with fresh water, and at the conclusion of his task, he got set to go.

“Excuse me, please.” It was the fellow. Imoni turned. He had an immensely handsome face. “You stay upstairs?” That was right, Imoni said. “Can I keep my portmanteau in your room? For just one night.”