WHAT HAPPENED AT PU25B: EP 2
Aziza sits ramrod straight in her chair, arms folded across her chest, and her light-complexioned face slightly flushed. JJ repositions the wooden barricade against the emergency entrance while Policarp stands aside, bemused.
‘I just knew we had this coming. You guys should’ve listened to me.’
‘Relax, Aziza. He’s gone now, isn’t he?’
‘Did you see the malevolent look on his face?’
Policarp pounds a fist into the wall. ‘Na God save am. Dey no born am well mek he follow me relate laidat. I for use blow scatta im papa face.’
JJ smiles. ‘Honestly, there’s no point in violence when you can defuse a bomb with a simple smile.’
Policarp scoffs. ‘Dey play. You wan dey follow street smile.’
‘So you guys really think that guy is gone?’ Aziza asks, incredulous.
Policarp reaches for the unused ballot booklet.
‘Okay. Mek we do am like this. I go hide this one, so dat if he or im boys come back, we go tell dem say the booklet don finish. We sha no fit finish the two booklet, abi?’
‘Better not to keep trouble lying around, eh?’ JJ purses her lips, then shrugs.
‘And you think that clears this up?’ Aziza asks.
‘Notin’ dey there na. I go just put am for inside the personnel bus. Nobody fit touch am for there.’ Policarp looks to JJ for consent.
JJ shrugs again. ‘At least, until we can figure out a more concrete solution.’
Policarp heads for the door. The furrows on Aziza’s brow deepen and her lips turns down in the shape of an inverted bowl.
‘Guys… wait. Lets’ take another look at this.’ She hesitates. ‘What if we just hand this guy the stuff, the booklet-whatever, I mean, he’ll just do whatever he wants, right? Give us some money perhaps—I mean—I’m not interested in the money, I just want us to go home in one piece. I’ve heard dangerous things about these guys.’
‘So mek I go find the guy, give am the booklet abi wetin you dey yarn? You sef reason am na.’
‘Why we con dey hide the booklet?’ Aziza retorts.
JJ dusts off her hands noisily and returns to her seat. She gets caught in a dizzying sneezing bout. Despite herself, Aziza hands JJ a hanky.
A moment later, calm and red-eyed, JJ says, ‘I can understand your anxiety, Aziza. I am worried too, but remember we talked about this. We’re not in this for the money. We are doing this, first, for our consciences, and then for the future of this country, yes? And no puny merchant will walk in here, hoping to change that.’
‘You don’t get… it’s not about the money for me too, but if, I mean... You guys know what is at stake here.’
Profanities sift into the room from outside. JJ shakes herself awake.
‘Let’s not drag this any further. Aziza, why don’t you secure the booklet? On your way back, inform the police about the situation. Perhaps they can come over and party with us until we’re done. Policarp will help with stamping.’
Aziza grimaces. Policarp cocks an eyebrow.
He says to JJ almost conspiratorially, ‘Sure say she go fit do am?’
Aziza shoots up like a rocket. She stops just short of Policarp’s face.
‘Wetin you mean? No, wetin you mean!’
‘Na play I dey.’
Aziza snatches the booklet from him and stumbles out of the classroom.
Policarp blows a quiet raspberry after her.
*
Minutes before the invasion, Viper is perched on the edge of his seat, attending a call, during which his jaws tighten and his eyes narrow into slits. When the call ends, he pushes away noisily from his table. He casts a stony gaze at one of the boys leaning lazily against the window frame softly playing music from his phone.
The goon is absented-minded until a member taps him awake. The room hushes into a quieter hush. Viper stands and approaches the member who tapped the goon awake.
‘Who ask you?’ Viper says. The boy’s eyes register shock just before a barrage of blows and kicks rain on him, knocking him over. Viper returns to his seat in calm fury and wipes his red knuckles with a handkerchief. He adjusts his oversized linen shirt over his pants before perching on the edge of a desk.
‘How many voters una don catch today?’
A flurry of conflicting answers emerges from the goons. Viper hushes them with a wave of the hand.
‘Na why Morris’ boys dey get more voters than us I wan understand.’
Another flurry of answers.
Viper flies to his feet, knocking the desk over. He reaches for his chair and swings it into the mass of flesh. Yelps erupt and half a dozen goons scamper from the room.
‘I pay una to sidan dey look? Una dey craze! Before I come back, anything wey mek me hear say YYY no dey front.’
Viper pats his pockets abruptly, muttering amid breathes. His face registers recollection. He calls back one of the goons.
‘You, where the thing wey I say mek you kip for me?’
The goon hands him a pouch, keeping a safe distance.
Viper pats his pockets some more, then stumbles out of the room.
To be continued on Friday... Don't forget to read, comment and share.
