One Chance I
FICTION
Mayowa Ojo
6/10/20263 min read
Banjo shifted the automatic gear of his SUV into park and got down to unbuckle the seatbelt for his younger daughter in the back; the older one helped herself. He cherished moments like this when he could spend time with them particularly because his schedule was changing faster than he could control. He was being groomed to be governor of the state.
The fact that he was still driving himself to work without any security detail was something he fought hard to keep until the primaries were over and he was declared the candidate for the party. Already he was somewhat of a public figure and his name was fast becoming a household word but he still maintained and cherished what was left of his anonymity.
He hugged his daughters goodbye and together they did their ‘coded’ handshake which cracked them all up as usual. He sighed, content. Life was good. A beautiful and highly accomplished wife, adorable girls, wealth, power and a few extra perks. He jumped into his new SUV and inhaled the leather – he smiled.
‘On the international scene, there’s been quite the verbal spat between US President Donald Trump and North Korean President Kim Jong-un over the latter’s missile tests and threats…’
Banjo changed the radio dial on the car stereo. He already listened to the news at 5 am when he woke up. As far as he could tell, nothing else was new since then. When he got tired of snooping around dials, he switched to CD option and let the soft classical music wash over him.
The one bit about his morning routine that he hated was the traffic. Same spot every day. He allowed himself to day dream about himself in the State House as Governor and how easy it would be for him to commute between the house and office with security details clearing whatever traffic might be in his way. He caught himself quickly and suddenly understood how people in power forget easily the sufferings of the masses. In the time he spent day dreaming, he didn’t once think about fixing the bad spot along his current route.
The traffic was finally moving as he approached the bad spot and began to manoeuvre it. He picked up his phone to call his wife, Jummy, hit the dial button and waited for the call to connect. In those split seconds, the car exploded in his ears and face.
Banjo finally snapped out of the temporary shock his body slipped into and looked around. There was glass all over. He sighted the two bikes as they sped off but he could not be too sure what he was seeing. The humid air that rushed into the cabin left his spectacles misty.
The damage was obvious immediately. Both front windows were smashed to tiny pieces that fell into the car. He looked at other cars and saw that he was the only one attacked. In no time people gathered around him trying to both inform him of and enquire what happened. His head was spinning but he knew he could not stay. He took off his glasses and drove off.
Banjo arrived at the office visibly shaken. Shards of glass from the smashed windows lay on his laps and the passenger seat. The security detail attached to him at the office rushed toward him and in seconds whisked him into the office while his team surrounded the car trying to decipher what went wrong.
After several hours of debate and phone calls, they knew who the enemy was – his running mate for the primaries who had sufficient wealth to run him down but insufficient class to lead a troop let alone a state. A couple hours passed and he felt calmer. He had no choice. He needed to be strong for Jummy who rushed down as soon as she heard.
"Please be careful," she said. She turned to face his personal assistant and threatened him with her stare. He got the message that he was, under no circumstances, supposed to allow Banjo ride home alone.
No sooner was Jummy gone than Banjo’s phone ring. He looked at the ID but it was private. He made a face because not many people had this new number. He consoled himself with the fact that it had to be someone close enough to have it.
"Hello?"
"Hello BJ…"
Banjo froze. It had been at least twelve years since he last heard her voice but it was unmistakable. Many questions ran through his mind and numbed his thought process.
She allowed the gravity of her call sink in for a few seconds longer.
Finally, he found his voice. "NK?"
"About this morning’s message, consider it a re-introduction of myself."
"What do you want?"
"Wrong question Boo. It’s what do you deserve?"
"And what is that?"
"Everything coming your way."
She ended the call and Banjo knew his entire universe had just tilted in the worst way ever.