One Chance II
FICTION
Mayowa Ojo
6/10/20264 min read
"Hey babe," Banjo said. "Are you sitting down?"
Jummy chuckled. "Of course I’m sitting down. Just got in actually. You sound like you…"
"There’s something I need to tell…"
"Sure. What’s…"
"You’re going to get an anonymous call. She’s going to…"
"She? Who is…"
"STOP INTERRUPTING ME DAMN IT!"
Jummy peeled the cell phone away from her face in abject disbelief.
Banjo put his face in one hand with the cell phone still pinned to his ear with the other hand. He sighed heavily and almost began to shake.
"I’m listening," Jummy said.
"I’m sorry I yelled but she will most likely call you and tell you things, most of which are not true. I need you to be strong for me and call her bluff. I need you to have my back. Can you do that?"
"Done."
"Thanks. I’ll see you when I get home," Banjo hung up.
He put his head in his hands and wondered where all of this could be going and then he waited. After a few hours, it was clear that NK was either not going to call Jummy or she was just testing his patience before she did.
He pushed the intercom button on his desk and summoned Liz, his PR manager, who came highly recommended by his godfathers. She came in at once.
"Someone called me a few hours ago with a private number. I know who it was but I need to know the number she used and where she called from."
"I’m on it."
"But you will need police report for that kind of information sir," Toun, a junior assistant who walked in with Liz said.
Liz laughed. "Watch and learn little one. Watch and learn." Both ladies disappeared in a heartbeat, leaving Banjo to wallow in his misery.
In less than an hour, Liz walked in with a look of concern on her face.
"Well? Please don’t tell me you do need that police report cos I don’t have time for…"
"I got the number sir. It’s registered to a Shehu Musa."
"That can’t be."
"I called the number just in case and I did speak to a Shehu Musa. He only speaks Hausa. He said a woman walked up to him earlier today and promised to buy his ram from him if he allowed her use his phone. He had not sold anything all week so..."
"I get the picture. My issue is, how can we trust this guy is for real and not a cover up?"
"I checked him out sir. He’s in Jigawa state and is registered as a trader in cattle."
*****************
Combing the internet but finding nothing helpful about NK frustrated Banjo even more. The only thing about her was a facebook page and the last time she posted anything was over ten years ago. There were a few pictures from university days and one that featured him ever so slightly with his boyish smile which the ladies fell for until it was much too late. He wanted to smile and reminisce but much more was at stake than mere memories from a lifetime ago.
Nothing made much sense to him in the middle of this turn of events. It drove him up a wall. Of all the usual why, where and how questions, only the what made sense – NK was out to draw his blood.
Banjo got out of the back seat of his car once he arrived at the press briefing for a campaign that was to kick off in a week. The campaign was tagged The Nigerian Dream, organized by a religious group run by women who called themselves Mothers of Society. Their support was important to his votes and so he accepted the invitation without thinking about it.
For days he rehearsed his speech. He believed his angle was perfect. He would address the level of joblessness in the society. He would tackle the subject from the angle of men taking up responsibilities in their homes and not leaving everything to the women who already had to deal with a lot. He would shine the light on how that will in turn positively affect their children who will grow up to become responsible citizens. He would narrate his ordeal from almost two weeks ago when his car windows were smashed by street urchins; street urchins who would know better if their fathers had been there for them.
Being the orator that he was, he would deftly segue into the inability of the present administration to keep the citizens safe and, by extension, tarnishing the image of the ruling party. Summarily, he would urge men, women, leaders and all affected parties to act responsibly and do their part to make the state, and by extension, the country great.
Banjo adjusted his blazer, looking like a million bucks as he stepped into the private access area of the building. Up ahead he saw Liz, his PR manager, storm toward him. He wondered why she was often this serious at events but did not dwell much on it.
"Sir, you have to leave now."
"What? I just got here."
Liz’s eyes darted around the hallway as though she were afraid the walls would close in on them.
"Two minutes ago, word leaked about an affair you’ve been having and about a secret family you’ve been keeping. The women in there are livid. You’re not safe."
"but it’s not true."
"I’m sure it’s not but this is not the place to prove it."
"Shoot me already!" he said to no one exactly.
"Promise, get him out of here NOW," Liz barked to his Chief of Security as she ran back to the hall to contain the tension in the hall.
In a matter of seconds that felt like a drug induced dream, Banjo watched in third person as he was ferried back to his car and away from the venue.
He had not heard from NK in two weeks. He had forgotten her threat. He had returned to life as usual. He wept silently in the back of the SUV as he started to realize that the nightmare was only just starting and he had no idea how to wake up.