TALES FROM THE SLUM 7 --by Slick

(Image Source: urbansustainabilityresilience.wordpress.com)

Hello guys, hope the New Year has been treating you well.  This episode is a sequel to the previous episodes and I hope you have enjoyed them so far. This is Episode 7.

Enjoy!!!

PHAMUS FOODS COMPANY

Dupe had just arrived at the gate of Mustapha’s business establishment, still deliberating on the best approach to take in confronting him about his giving her a sexually transmitted disease. All the while she sat in the taxi that brought her to Salaam Avenue, she thought of sending him abusive text messages but her heart could not bring her to do it as she kept deleting each word that she typed on her Blackberry Passport.  It was best for her to see him in person and bear out the venom that had continuously built up inside of her. She alighted and paid off the taxi driver and started making her way to Mustapha’s office. Inside the company’s complex, there were workers loading bags of rice into a 911 truck and no one seemed to have noticed her presence except for the gateman dressed in his official wear, who addressed her in an accent that easily told her that he was from the northern part of the country.

“Madam, who I dey find?” He inquired while staring lustfully at her full figure.

“Is Mustapha in the office?”

“Madam , na my oga I dey call like that?” He replied in displeasure at the fact that she had just called his boss by his first name.

“Look I do not have the time for this your drama, is he in or not?” She replied while sizing him up with eyes that looked like that she could see through him.

“Come sign visitors book hia, oga dey office,” he replied while motioning her to the small room that served as the reception.

But Dupe was not in the mood for any formal activities and as such she stormed past him and was heading for Mustapha’s office which she hoped to find easily since it was her first time here. The gateman chased after her, repeatedly pleading with her to at least sign the visitors book as the establishment’s customs demanded.

She found his office easily since every office in Phamus Foods Company had name tags on each of the door posts. Without asking, she barged into the office to find Mustapha seated with two men whom looked like his business partners. They were in the middle of something very important as they were exchanging and reading documents, but she was here on a mission and nothing was going to stop her.

“You Bastard, you wanted to kill me abi?” She screamed at him.

His business partners were taken aback and were throwing glances at Mustapha and the angry woman who had just joined them. Mustapha sat in silence and was unperturbed by this outrageous behaviour Dupe had just displayed.

“So you are going to sit there and stare at me like an idol without saying anything?”

There was still no response from Mustapha. Instead he picked up the receiver of the intercom on his table and called his aides to come to his office. In the twinkle of an eye, two men that looked like that they spent all their lives lifting heavy objects appeared and they were commanded by Mustapha to throw Dupe outside the gates of the company.

“Gentlemen, please throw this crazy lady and that crazy gateman out of my gates.”

Without further ado, Dupe’s legs were in the air as one of the aides had lifted her upon his shoulder and was heading for the gates. She managed to throw the result of the tests that she had conducted on the floor of the office and in the process bumped her head at the door post. Soon enough, she was outside the gates screaming on top of her voice; every abusive word that came to mind. She was also joined by the gate man, who consistently blamed her for his current predicament. The workers inside the company as well as passers-by had a field day staring and laughing at both of them.

The gateman went ahead to engage Dupe in a heated verbal war blaming her for making him lose his job at Phamus Foods.

“Madam, see wetin I don cause for me? You don make Oga sack me.”

“What is my business with this one my God?” She asked as she lifted her head to the skies with her hands on her waist.

“Madam, how my family go take survive? Work wey I never do reach 3 months.”

Dupe was not interested in what he had to say, instead she was throwing every object she could find on the ground over the fence into the company’s grounds while releasing abusive words from her arsenal to the invisible Mustapha

“Mustapha, my God will punish you.”

“You threw me out like refuse. A whole me!”

“It is not over o. I will disgrace you everywhere.”

After the show of shame was over, she tried to pacify the gateman by offering him some money while she flanked a taxi to take her back to the slum. She was exhausted and too embarrassed to be seen anywhere around Salaam Avenue any time soon. At the back seat of the taxi, she reminisced her recent ordeal in the hands of a man whom had claimed to love her. She muttered under her breath.

“Love is a bastard.”.

The taxi driver stared at her through the rear view and asked to find out if she was okay.

“Madam, hope say all is well?” He inquired

“Oga, just drive wetin you dey drive abeg. Nothing concerns you.”

He simply nodded in comprehension.

Back in Mustapha’s office, he apologized to his guests for Dupe’s unruly behaviour as he carefully snuck the piece of paper he had picked from the floor into his drawer.

“My people, I am sorry for that girl’s behaviour. You know how women can be.”

“It is alright man. Just keep her on a leash so that she does not ruin things for you.” One of the men dressed in Agbada and a traditional cap to match replied.

“Let us attend to important matters.” They all had a brief moment of laughter before settling on the transactions that they had to take care of.

****

CHANEL 5

It was 7:55pm and Chinedu was already standing outside the doors of Chanel 5. He had made sure that he had carried with him every item that the text message had contained. He was still marvelled at the modus operandi of the Chanel 5 management when it came to recruiting people. He had asked Tunde questions relating to this matter at hand, but Tunde had only advised him to go for the interview and that there was no harm in trying.

Chinedu was dressed in a white shirt, a black trouser, and a tie to match holding an envelope which contained the items he was asked to bring along; eight passports and two new SIM cards. There was minor activity going on outside the club in addition to a drunken man that had just been thrown out by the bouncers. He hit the floor like a pack of cards and was vomiting every liquid in his system. The bouncers seemed to be very angry with him.

“Baba Hafusa, I don tell you make you no dey drink wetin pass you.” One of the bouncers said to the drunk man who was lying in a pool of his vomit.

“No dey tell me that thing for your life again.” Baba Hafusa replied in a slurry tone which showed that he had drank more than his body system could contain.

The bouncer said nothing in return, instead shook his head in pity at the nuisance this old drunk had just made of himself.

Chinedu was just trying to take in the picture of the little drama that had just played before his eyes, when a black Mercedes Kompressor pulled up behind him. He turned around to see who had lost his driving skills when the driver engaged him in a conversation.

“Are you Chinedu?” He asked in a croaky voice.

“Yes. And is that the reason why you want to hit me with your car?” Chinedu replied him in an angry tone. He obviously was not happy with the way the driver had pulled up his car behind him. He now noticed that the driver was dressed in a black sweat shirt and wore dark shades which concealed some part of his identity.

“Come with me.” The driver replied him choosing to ignore the rude manner in which he had just been spoken to. He pressed a button the steering wheel of the car which granted Chinedu access through the passenger’s door.

Chinedu stepped into the car whose air-conditioning was at work; and was about strapping on his seat belt, when a hand came from behind his seat to cover his nose with a handkerchief. He struggled to get free of his hostage situation but in few seconds, he was dizzy and passed out unconscious. The last words he heard were

“You too dey talk. You be woman?”

Chinedu had just been taken hostage by two armed men who had no intention of harming him. Instead, he was supposed to be presented to his interviewers without him remembering the route to the venue of the interview.

Soon they were on the ground floor of a building which appeared to have been abandoned by the owner to natural circumstances. Chinedu had been blind-folded all the way there with his hands tied behind his back. He soon regained consciousness after being unconscious for over an hour. His belongings had been confiscated. He was seated on the dusty floor and could hear distant voices that seemed to be talking about him. The smell of burning cigarettes had filled the atmosphere around him, therefore he was certain that he was not alone and probably had eyes staring at him.

“Mrs Ayobami, are you sure about this boy? I cannot take chances o.” A man said

“Leader, just relax and let all this drama play out. It is too late to turn back now o.” She replied

Chinedu could not believe his ears. That was his Landlady’s voice. What was she doing here with kidnappers? How did he offend her for her to have had him kidnapped? Sudden sweat had begun form under his armpits and urine gathering in his bowels.

“Look Iya Oloja, if he misbehaves I have no choice than to end his miserable life.” The male voice spoke again.

“It won’t come to that I promise you.” Mrs Ayobami replied.

On hearing that he was going to be killed, Chinedu began to scream and begged for his life to be spared. He still had his blind-fold on, and could barely tell where he was. All that mattered to him was staying alive at any cost.

“Please o, don’t kill me o. I only came for a job interview o.” Chinedu was in tears that had been soaking the black cloth that was used to cover his eye from the rays of sunlight. He struggled with the rope that restrained his hands but could not break free instead his wrists had begun to bleed.

“Iya Oloja, look at the coward you brought me. I need a strong man, not a school boy.” The male voice said again.

“Leader, please relax while we await the arrival of the others. We have a long night ahead of us.” Mrs Ayobami said while trying to reach the remaining members of The Stakeholders over the phone.

“I just hope you are right.” The leader replied.

****

ANITA’S RESIDENCE

After a shower that seemed to take forever, Dupe put on her blue gown that revealed some part of her thighs and her slender legs, some light make up and silver ear-rings that complemented the necklace that she had on. She had called Anita over the phone on her way back from Mustapha’s office to tell her that she was going to spend the night at her place. Anita had initially frowned at the idea, but could tell that something was off from the way Dupe sounded over the phone. Thus she had no choice but to grant Dupe’s request. After all, they were friends and were currently having emotional issues.

Dupe stepped out of her gate wearing slip-ons, as she looked at both ends of her street in search of a motorcycle that would convey her to her friend’s place. Soon an Okada rider approached her position and she gave him details about her destination but first she had to stop at a wine shop to buy some alcohol. This was what she needed at this sad moment in her life. She needed something to help her cool off and at the same time forget Mustapha.

On the motorcycle, she pulled out her Blackberry and sent Anita a message through BBM.

“Babe, I don dey come. I go bring shayo and suya.” She texted

“Dupe, you wan kill me? You know say my mama dey house.” Anita replied.

“That one concern you. She fit follow us shayo na.”

“You don dey mad. I dey house sha. Just turn up.”

Dupe smiled to herself as the wind played with her hair while the motorcycle sped off to her destination.